Song of Heroes IC

[Union Princes]

Inquisitor Strauch

After finding the sharpening wheel in the blacksmiths workshop, Strauch got permission from the blacksmith to use the wheel to sharpen his blades. Falchion went first. Short and wide with a curved tip, the WItch Hunter got to work smoothing out the edges of his blade. While the rapier is for the thrusting and piercing with a bit of slicing, the Falchion was picked for its cutting power against bones and flesh.

After making his secondary weapon as sharp as possible, Strauch then pulled out his battleaxe. While the axe may be less graceful than his rapier, Wilhard finds satisfaction of cleaving into one heretic after another, as he watches their armor bend and their limbs flying about. It was a one-handed weapon with a balanced axe head to keep up with the duel-wielding.

Finally, Strauch moved on to his signature weapon: the rapier. His skillset combined with this long bladed weapon made him a deadly force of agile defense and deadly offense. The long reach of the weapon greatly helps to engage the enemy at the distance when Strauch relies on his speed rather than the armor that he wears.

After paying the blacksmith a few coins in thanks, Wilhard moved on from the smithy to purchase a stamina and healing potion from the nearby merchant stand. He may not need these for this quest but it's better to purchase these now instead of later now that time is lax for him.

[Toaslandia]

"Hadrian, take the left! I'll go for Tritonia myself!" No, don't. She'll kill you. "Hadrian help!" I can't.
Hadrian woke with a start. "Just a nightmare Hadrian, just a nightmare." He shook off the unease he felt and put on his armor. He went down to the Legion mess hall to get a meal and was surprised to still see Arden there, sipping his ale. He sat down next to Arden, who didn't seem to notice him, and began to eat his food. He didn't talk to Arden, as he didn't want to have him choke again, so he sat there, wondering why that horrible memory resurfaced.

[Nuridia]

Telsor’s ear pricked up upon hearing the dark skinned woman who had just entered, mention the Goblin mission.

Based on her robes and equipment, he assumed she had to be some type of magic user. Moving easily through the crowd toward her he smiled at the deduction - no shit Sherlock.

In front of her now Telsor saw that she was blind. Despite this he smiled, ‘Telsor Codan, I’m interested in the Goblin job too. I’m going to get myself another coffee. Fancy anything while I’m at the bar?’ Glancing down he extended his hand for the hound that accompanied the woman to sniff.

Pan clasped the newcomer’s hand and shook it with a firmness belting her build, and smiled in his direction. “Pandia Arjumi, but most of my friends call me Pan. Or Didi, but it’s usually Pan...nice to meet you, Telsor.” Cerberus sniffed at Telsor’s hand and let out a bark, but it wasn’t an aggressive one. “That’s Cerberus, he’s my eyes as it were...too bad he can’t tell me what you look like, though.” she quipped, petting his shaggy neck. “He’s not one of those dogs who jumps on strangers and starts licking them, he usually does his own thing most of the time as it were. Then she remembered that he said that he was going to the bar. “Oh, awesome! You’re such a gentleman, I’d appreciate it if you could bring me a coffee while you were over there as well. Normally I’d get brandy but I don’t drink before missions, thanks so much! It’ll be a pleasure to work with you.

[Verwood Island Archipelago]

“A pleasure to meet you Pan.” Telsor crouched down so that he was face to face with the hound. “You too Cerberus.” He scratched the animal’s ears before once more standing tall. “We should chat about tactics. My strong suit on this job is likely to be scouting and reconnaissance although I can handle myself if things get interesting. The bulletin says that there’s a chance a Shaman might be present in the camp. Personally I know very little about Goblin magic so it would be good to hear any ideas that you might have about countering whatever they might have in their bag of tricks. I’ll be back with the coffees.”

Heading to the bar Telsor made a mental note of where Pan was so that he wasn’t standing around like a numpty looking for their table. Seeing the young woman confident and at ease he felt the same surge of admiration as he did for anyone who had lost their sight. Navigating every day life must be hard enough but to voluntarily undertake jobs for the Legion - well that took guts on a whole different level.

To the barmaid, “two coffees please.” Like Pan, Telsor would usually be more than happy to indulge in a beer or two but as she’d said, this was pre-mission, and going out on adventure tipsy wasn’t his idea of fun. As the two tin mugs were put on the bar he glanced up and flashed a smile of thanks whilst handing over a coin. “Keep the change.”

Returning to the table Telsor put the two mugs down. “Coffee as requested.” Taking his seat he added, “About these Goblins...”

[Nuridia]

"Thanks!" Pan took the coffee from Telsor when he came back to their table, adding cream and sugar to her cup. "Goblins...yeah. Annoying little buggers, I used to read about them all the time! Well, while I was still able to see words, anyway." she quipped, winking at him. It had been very difficult to adjust to her loss of sight, and she had been angry, as any person would be. But, she still had to live life and there was no use in letting this bring her down. What was the point in being depressed and going into an effective living death for the rest of her life, great wizards and people have persisted in the face of far worse. "Here's my trick, they can't stand the cold, goblins can't. Bein' cold blooded and all, they're like reptiles and they loathe the winter. Being ranged is easier if you're trying to take out a horde of them, but melee fighters have the edge when fighting a few at a time. Really depends on the size and strength of said goblin."

[Verwood Island Archipelago]

Telsor sipped his coffee and listened with respect as Pan elaborated her thoughts.

Goblins - cold blooded. Telsor had been around a bit but that was something he hadn’t known. Everyday’s a school day.

“Okay - it sounds like we’ve got the outline of something that might have a chance of working. Like all these things well have to cross bridges as we come to them but when we get there I’ll have a scout around to get an idea of their size and strength and indeed if their really is a shaman down there. With that information we can decide on how best to get the job done.”

Glancing over at the front desk he said, “if you like I’ll go and register our interest but then maybe we hang around for a bit just in case anyone else wants to join us.”

[New Finnish Republic]

Edward Brunwulf
The Paean Legion Headquarters

---

The morning's sparring with Luca was, as it often was, more of a battle of words rather than blades. Edward did not mind that much, given that it provided a break in the monotonous training he went through practically every spare hour he had while stationed at Headquarters, but he couldn't help but wish at times the Lycan would focus on sharpening his blades rather than his tongue. Still, he felt no ill for him, and rather would respond with the verbal jabs with strikes of his sword.

The commotion around the Headquarters made it clear that something was up, as Luca pointed out. It soon became clear what all the ruckus was about, as Roxana began to explain the list, albeit a brief one, of quests made available to the guild. Edward let out an audible sigh as the crowd of Redcloaks began to eagerly call out what quests they wanted to go on, as if them being the first to answer the call would earn them any favors with Roxana. Edward looked over to meet the high elf's eyes, rolling them before shaking his head slightly.

Roxana had been with the guild for some time longer than Edward, yet through various quests and interactions at the Headquarters, he had gained at least a mutual level of respect with her. To some extent, he almost felt bad for her since her daily tasks oftened boiled down to dealing with boneheaded Redcloaks who's heads were larger than their shields. While he eventually wanted to advance within the ranks of the guild as she had, Edward was in no rush to have to bear the same burdens as her.

It wasn't long until the conversation among a few Redcloaks caught Edward's ear. The old bastard, Strauch, was blabbering away to another recruit, Rooke, trying to claim that he demanded a sense of respect. The sight caused Edward to frown slightly. If there was one thing to learn with being in the Legion, it was that regardless of who you were before joining, respect was only shown by the rank you held within the guild. For all intents and purposes, the man had no right with demanding anything more from those who were no lower than he was. Letting out a small sigh, he gave Luca a small pat on his shoulder.

"Do me a favor and keep your fellow Redcloaks in line for me, will you?"

Walking over the the front desk, Edward caught the attention of one of the girls he had become familiar with over his time within the guild. She was an older woman, but nonetheless always seemed to be able to put a smile on his face, even when Edward was less than pleased with what she had to offer. As he stopped in front of her, she gave the large adventuer a ornery smile.

"Why Edward, you smell dreadful! How about I escort you over to the bathing house? One can never be too careful in these dangerous times. "

Edward waved his hands in front of him, shaking his head with a small smile on his face.

"I appreciate the offer, Miss Gwydlyn, but I trust that I can make it there by myself." Leaning in close, he gave the woman a small wink which caused her smirk to widen. "Besides, what would the other fine ladies besides you think if you shirked your duties?" The woman answered with a crackling chuckle before settling finally settling down into a more serious expression.

"So what shall it be today?"

Edward rubbed at his chin for a few moments, contemplating on what he wanted to do. The search for the heirloom garnered no attention to him, and he would rather not have to deal with the headaches the party going on the escort quest would deliver him. With no other options, he made up his mind.

"I'll take the goblin extermination quest."

"One more added to the extermination quest it is, " Miss Gwydlyn said while writing his name down on the list of those going on the quest. Edward gave her a small thank you before returning back to the bar.

From what he had gathered, their party was to be filled with recruits, him being the highest ranking of the bunch. While in the technical sense this meant he would be tasked with leading the party, he felt no desire to press the issue as long as the others could handle themselves. Considering what he knew of the other members of the party, he felt confident that they would be fine but reminded himself to ensure that nothing foolish occured under his watch.

[The Republic of Atria]

Valan was actually surprised at how quiet Aayla managed to stay for a whole two minutes as several people opted in for the Goblin Extermination. What appeared to be a blind wizard woman. Someone who hopefully shared his love and affinity for the mystic arts, even if his were a bit more... Aggressive. A large man with a blue cloak and even larger sword. It seemed he would be leading the extermination. And a rather ordinary looking man by the name of Telsor. Plus him and Aayla. It seemed fairly well rounded. He approached the group. "Greetings. I'm Valan and this is my friend Aayla. I'm a pyromancer." He explained. "That should be self explanatory, I'm also decent with my sword if needed." Better to get introductions out of the way now.

"Aayla." She introduced herself far more brashly than her friend. "Alright, we got 1-2-3-4-5... 5 of us so far. Hopefully we don't get too many more, I only had enough stuff to make that many potions last night. I'm good, very good, with knives. Goblins are fun target practice." She started, opening her green cloak revealing no armor, only glowing green vials and knives. "Also I can do potions. Said that first. Speaking of which." She pulled out the vials, offer them to everyone who would take one. "Drink up if you get smacked, stabbed, or otherwise bludgeoned. Won't taste good but it's the bad taste of a potion or the taste of dying. I'm not the kind of person who tells people how they should live, but I've got my preferences." she explained. She wasn't sure how the blind wizard girl was going to be of use, but she was clearly magic. That was Valan's thing. She preferred sneaking around and stabbing throats or throwing knives at throats. Eyes too, but they were a little harder to hit and were less guaranteed to kill quickly.

Valan sized up the group a bit more. The blue cloaked man would be fine. He'd clearly been doing this longer than either of them. The blind wizard would likely be the one he'd be paired up with while Aayla would likely accompany the man who looked like a hunter. "I apologize, I didn't catch your name." He spoke to her. "I suppose we'll be supporting our allies from afar."

"So how're we doing this? We goin' in all quiet and stabbing them all to death before they realize that their entire camp is dead? Or are we going to have the wizards and big guy with the sword kick in up front while me and this guy-" She motion to Telsor, sneak in the back and take out as many as we can before they realize that they're being attacked on two fronts? Or something else, don't care. Goblins gotta go."

[Absolon-7]

Simion Valerin, the marksman from Nur!

Oberon Klask

Harald of Stoutshield

Luca Greyfoot

Hadrian

Roxana Ma'gonid

---

Roxana was waiting in anticipation for any of the Legionnaires to take her offer as she stood in front of the bulletin board holding up the Heirloom contract. It seemed like hours passed while she waited for anyone to speak out and her elongated ears occasionally twitched in bouts of nervousness. Luckily she got a good selection of teammates offering their service. First was Simion Valerin, who she remembered mostly for his soft shiny white hair and the use of some contraption called a "handcannon". She didn't really know what those were but they apparently were pretty loud. She remembered that the Thapsian military had something similar in fireships and firethrowers but this was something quite odd but nevertheless he'd be valuable. Next was some bald dude that could have been a monk or something and he looked capable enough. Next came a dwarf that seemed to come up quite hesitantly but the warhammer he had looked fearsome enough.

"Well good to have you three. And well a party is mandatory for these contracts so we have to make one," said Roxana to the two humans before turning to the dwarf, "Well of course I'd be willing to have you. So long as you know how to bash heads with that hammer" She said playfully chuckling.

Then came a Lycan she recognized, a chap by the name of Luca, who she had heard was quite a formidable fighter and another front-liner would be invaluable if her suspicions rang true. "Sure thing," she responded, "We'll be going underground I believe so not sure if that counts for you."

Next came a man-at-arms fellow who was especially eager in joining who walked over to where everyone was gathering before pulling out and polishing his sword, "I'd be careful randomly bringing unsheathing weapon if I were you. Multiple districts in the city have ordinances against public displays of weapons."

A small smile crept on Roxana's face at the format of this upcoming party as it looked to be quite formidable. It pretty much had all niches filled one could need in small group combat situations and at this prospect her ears straightened up almost fluttering. She was incredibly relieved all she had to do was speak out and let folk come to her. It would have been so embarrassing to talk to people individually. Like what would she have said to each of these people? Her mood took a downturn once the man-at-arms ditched them and went with the party forming for the caravan. She noticed there was a inquisitor with them and it felt like she had taken a sip of pure lemon juice. What was the Legion thinking of letting one of those high horses in. Luckily the Republic didn't recognize their authority and he would be appropriately dealt with if he stood out of line.

Luckily, she caught the eyes of Edward and she returned her acquaintance's eye rolling. Helping Redcloaks was something she wasn't really fond of but knowing a friend knew the burden of it as well helped her feel a tiny bit relived as she wasn't alone in this. Giving a tired sigh she put put her arm up in a gesture to lead the Heirloom team to the front desk. "Well I think we've got a decent assemble so far. Let's get registered for the contract at the front desk."

Leading the small team to the front desk she got everyone's name down to be applied to the contract and with a few signatures the money was as good as theirs. well once they got back that is. Standing in front of the handgunner, monk dude, dwarf, and Lycan, she cleared her throat before speaking out. "Okay, get ready and bring whatever supplies you think we'll need," taking a glance at the grandfather clock in the area around the reception desks she quickly decided on a time, "Let's meet in half an hour at the west gate. The one where the aqueduct connects with the city. We can make a game plan there right in front of the bakery bordering the small plaza there."

---

Roxana stood near the West Gate leading her donkey, Methuselah, by rope and she leaned back against the bakery's outside wall thankful for the shade the balconies up above provided. She leaned her head against the cool brick surface and closed her eyes. Slowly she began to inhale and exhale methodically and took her surroundings into a minor meditation session. The idle chatter of groups of friends shopping and stall workers yelling to sell their goods. The steamy smell of a nearby sausage vendor filled her nose and made her somewhat wanting to buy some but she had to wait for everyone else. Would be quite unprofessional to not be here once everyone else arrived. Okay, now what should she say? She doubt they'll want to talk about the contract 24/7 so she would have to socialize dammit! Now what did that book she bought, 101 Ways to Make Small Talk say? She quickly remembered a few of her favorites before letting out a deep sigh and waited for everyone else to arrive.

[Nuridia]

Pan heard two newcomers approach their table, and by the color of their aura they were both humans. Confident girl, isn't she? Pan admired that, she admired confidence and tenacity in people and by the looks of things, Telsor and this new girl were dripping with it. She introduced herself as Aayla and apparently was coming with them on the goblin mission. Her friend Valan was a more mild disposition, which would be good. They needed a calm presence to balance out all the boisterous hotheads.
"Pandia Arjumi, but everybody calls me Pan, nice to meet you, Aayla. And you too, Mister Valan." She smiled when Aayla started talking about potions. "Another potion brewer, and you came prepared! I brewed a couple myself, but spellwork is more my thing, y'know? Good to have you on the mission." She shook Valan and Aayla's hands firmly and then listened to Aayla's questions about their attack plan. "To be honest, none of us have a coordinated plan yet and we were waiting for everybody to show up. I was planning on using mostly ice-based spells honestly, as goblins are very sensitive to the cold and a well-placed wide range attack could help clear the field."

Alcide and Asra Baragnac
"Well, seems like we missed all the fanfare and the mission discussions." Al drew his fur cloak a bit tighter around himself against the chill, a black curl falling from its ponytail to dangle in front of his eyes. A shorter figure beside him in a fur-trimmed cloak, gold glinting in her ears was studying what seemed to be the only papers on the bulletin board for that day. "Wow, okay. Either we missed all the good jobs or these are the only ones that were ever there." Asra was reading what they had on offer, and honestly she was far from impressed. "Goblins, heirloom, caravan guarding? Man, I don't want to do any of these."
"Well you better pick one, or else we're the only ones not getting paid today." Alcide went to the board, reading the jobs and settling on the third paper. "Come on, guarding a caravan would be a nice change of pace for us. Nothing too strenuous or dangerous, something easy sounds like it could be nice."
"Yeah Al, whatever you say dude...hey, is it going to be a full moon tonight?" He dug into one of his vest pockets and pulled out a slip of paper, studying it briefly before tucking it back in. "Nope, doesn't look like it. Now about a job, Asra..."
"I'm just curious how ALL the guards "mysteriously" fell ill with diarrhea at the exact same time. Don't that seem a little suspicious to you?! Just a teensy bit? What if this lord is a serial killer or something?!" Alcide laughed, ruffling his sister's carefully done braids.
"You see danger around every corner, sis." She growled lowly at him, and let a sound out that was reminiscent of a bark. "I'm not a little kid! I'm vicious, fear me!"
"Sure, Jan. Hey, shouldn't you head to the blacksmith to make sure your daggers are in tiptop shape?"
"Oh! Right, I'll go do that." Asra headed toward the blacksmith's shop, but then stopped midway and looked over her shoulder. "Wait a minute, what about you and your knives?"
"I'll catch up with you later, right now I'm gonna go grab some breakfast." And headed toward the direction of the bar.
"Save me some food!" she called after him.
"Okay!" he shouted back, and Asra continued until she was at the resident blacksmith. She spent a lot of her time here, daggers, swords and the like needed to be repaired quite a bit more often than other weapons...plus it was warm and the blacksmith was friendly. As she walked in, she saw an old man walk out with a plethora of sharpened weapons. Upon closer inspection she recognized him from the Legion. The Witch Hunter...thank fuck I'm not part of any organized religion. Religion makes people nuts, man. Y'all can keep that bull, I don't want it. Occultism deals with religion...maybe that's why Al acts kinda off sometimes. Or is it just an annoying brother thing, I dunno.

[Finland SSR]

Simion Valerin, the marksman from Nur!

---

Simion's initial fears of this being a frail party were soon calmed down when almost half a dozen warriors signed up for the heirloom quest, most of them clearly more competent in close quarters combat than him or Roxana. The first was Oberon, a man who... honestly, just looked like a beggar someone picked up off the street and recruited into the Legion. The man was shirless, barefoot and wearing nothing but rags and sheets over his waist and legs - however, his muscular stature and markings across the whole body betrayed that Oberon was more than meets the eye.

Simion winced a little upon the sight of the monk joining the party - he was no noble or similarly wealthy Nur trade magnate, but he saw himself as civilized enough to consider good clothes a necessity - though that's where his reaction stopped and the marksman moved on.

The next recruit was Harald, a hammer wielding dwarf volunteering for the job and offering his skills as a heavy hitter and damage sponge at once. Now this is something Simion could understand more easily. The Dwarves of the Northern Reaches had a reputation as capable warriors and miners, Nur's relationship with them was pretty solid and boiled down both to trading with them for rare minerals and employing Dwarven mercenaries in their military or the in the occasional war. Seeing one of them as a part of the team was quite a relief - Dwarven warriors may be predictable sometimes, but that also makes them reliable.

The last Legionnaire to join the heirloom quest and not drop out almost instantly was Luca, a Lycan warrior. Right, one of those Northern freaks. Not only did Luca, much like the rest of his species, look like a bipedal wolf which looked juust human enough to be uncomfortable, but they also had a horrifying form when exposed to the moon, which the warrior was quick to mention upon registering. Even he knew that it was a bad idea. Teaming up with a Lycan? That's going to be a little difficult, but Simion opted to not protest, only shooting a somewhat suspicious expression towards the newcomer. This isn't really the situation where the marksman had much to choose from, anyway, you've got to take what you get.

With the party gathered, and her mood somewhat soured by one of the potential recruits suddenly dropping out to mingle with an Inquisitor, Roxana led the remaining team to the registration desk, going through the procedure in a manner of minutes, and then explaining the plan of action - more specifically, taking a short break to get ready and stock up on any supplies they might need, then meet up at the west gate of the town.

"Right, that sounds like a plan." the marksman spoke in response, turning to the rest of the team. "If any of you are unfamiliar with me, by the way, the name's Simion. I'm a travelling artisan and self taught marksman."

---

Simion wasn't really lacking on food or other basic supplies, so he spent his half-hour of preparation blowing much of his remaining wealth on gunpowder and bullets downtown. Despite their apparent superiority complex, the Republic only had one reliable supplier of these things - a choleric, scream-prone merchant going by the name of Salazar, who was lucky to have several important contacts in the Great Cities and used them to the fullest to establish an exotic goods shop, whose stalls also included cartridges of gunpowder.

Of course, not called 'gunpowder'. It was some local unpronounceable term instead and it wasn't even marketed for military usage. Salazar would always look at Simion weirdly each time the marksman came up to the shop owner with over a dozen cartridges and packs of bullets, as if he never expected a man to be interested in those goods, but it would be stupid for a merchant to discriminate a willing buyer just because of their weird choices, so he would leave it at that. Shopping at Salazar's was never comfortable, but it was the best Simion had available.

Either way, now that he was stocked with everything he needed for this mission, Simion made his way through the city towards the west gate, dressed in his usual dark uniform, reminiscent of the Nur military standard, with his hand cannon hanging on his back and held up by a belt over his shoulder. The crowds, were, as always, hard to bear, but not unbeatable - and soon enough, Simion saw the pointy elven eyes and bright hair characteristic of Roxana in the distance. The other members of the party were nowhere to be seen, though. Were they late or what?

"You look like you're searching for an excuse to dive right into that bakery," Simion opened up, stopping in front of the elven archer and snickering. "What, are you regretting only giving yourself half an hour already?"

[Union Princes]

Witch Hunter Wilhard

Strauch was in the process was leaving the blacksmith to his own devices when he bump into Asra, another fellow redcloak, upon exiting. She regarded him with slight scorn as far as WIlhard could tell with his one eye. Keeping up with his stern expression on his face, the Witch Hunter brushed past the dark-skinned adventurer after giving her a few stares.

"Unless your skin is impervious to blades, I recommend getting a weapon that has some reach to use." Strauch advise to Asra as he continued to walk past her. "A spear would do you just fine at keeping the distance between you and your enemy."

With that addressed, Wilhard went to the nearby merchant to purchase a stamina and healing potion for the quest. Luckily enough, the merchant also had a spyglass to sell. Strauch spent extra ducats for that scouting device. May prove to be useful later on when scanning the horizon. The spyglass was a smaller version of the larger two-handed version as it fit snugly in Wilhard's hand.

Figuring that he got what he needed, Strauch made his way back to his party where they were waiting inside the main building of the Legion.

[Verwood Island Archipelago]

Surprised at how quickly their number had increased Telsor introduced himself to the newer team team members. “I’m looking forward to working with you guys.” Toward the blue cloak, “it looks like you might have done this once or twice before so that can’t be a bad thing.”

He took the the potion handed to him by Aayla. “Thank you. I owe you one.” Stowing the bottle in a secure pocket of his pack Telsor sipped at his coffee before speaking again,

“I’m pretty new to this type of mission but it strikes me that some intel might be useful so I’m happy to try and get close to the camp and do some scouting around. Strengths, weaknesses - that sort of thing and whether or not we’re dealing with a shaman.” He sipped again at his coffee. “Once we know we can decide whether it’s best to either hit the shaman, if there’s is one, or perhaps try to take out as many as we can from afar with ranged attacks. Either way I’d suggest it wasn’t a good idea to to rush the camp like a bunch of berserkers just for the sake of it. Fight smart I say. Once we’ve softened them up we can move in fast and finish the job.” He smiled, “as I say I’m pretty new at this so that’s all really just theory. If anyone has actual practical experience they might be better placed to formulate a strategy.” Finishing the last of his coffee he pursed his lips, “also night time or day time raid?” He looked at Pan. “You seem to know about Goblins Pan, any ideas as to when they might be more vulnerable?”

[Union Princes]

Surprised at how quickly their number had increased Telsor introduced himself to the newer team team members. “I’m looking forward to working with you guys.” Toward the blue cloak, “it looks like you might have done this once or twice before so that can’t be a bad thing.”

He took the the potion handed to him by Aayla. “Thank you. I owe you one.” Stowing the bottle in a secure pocket of his pack Telsor sipped at his coffee before speaking again,

“I’m pretty new to this type of mission but it strikes me that some intel might be useful so I’m happy to try and get close to the camp and do some scouting around. Strengths, weaknesses - that sort of thing and whether or not we’re dealing with a shaman.” He sipped again at his coffee. “Once we know we can decide whether it’s best to either hit the shaman, if there’s is one, or perhaps try to take out as many as we can from afar with ranged attacks. Either way I’d suggest it wasn’t a good idea to to rush the camp like a bunch of berserkers just for the sake of it. Fight smart I say. Once we’ve softened them up we can move in fast and finish the job.” He smiled, “as I say I’m pretty new at this so that’s all really just theory. If anyone has actual practical experience they might be better placed to formulate a strategy.” Finishing the last of his coffee he pursed his lips, “also night time or day time raid?” He looked at Pan. “You seem to know about Goblins Pan, any ideas as to when they might be more vulnerable?”

Inquisitor Strauch

Overhearing a nearby party discussing strategy, Strauch wandered to their side to offer some of his advice.

"Forgive my intrusion," Strauch announced, speaking to Teslor and Pan, "But if you want to know some strategies on fighting goblins, I highly recommend the usage of terrain to your advantage. The quest says the camp is in a gorge next to a cliff, if you don't know what a "bluff" is, and what I'm thinking you adventurers ought to do is to cause a rock avalanche or flood the valley with a river to destroy the camp."

Clearing his throat, Strauch continued: "Also be very careful when engaging goblins; do not let them group up and attack at once. Keep them scattered and take them out one by one. And most importantly, Fire is your greatest weapon and ambushes is an ideal tactic; got to stop the spores from creating more goblins. These bugs may not be geniuses but they aren't fools either. Search the cliffs for any holes and crevices for goblin guards and scouts. Expect traps from them but at the same time, set up traps for goblins. They never think that someone would ambush them night or day."

[Absolon-7]

Simion Valerin, the marksman from Nur!

Roxana Ma'gonid

---

As her lightweight session of meditation continued, Roxana could begin to smell the nearby aromas of the bakery leaking out of the store and it was almost mouthwatering. The soft and rich smells engulfed her the various grains filled the air with their stark smell. The wind chimes at the store front created delicate sharp sounds contrasted by the nearby chirping of sparrows. Going inside and buying some treats for herself real quick couldn't be that bad could it? She could just buy a croissant or two plus a cookie even. It wouldn't take that long after all so it's not like there was a chance of some of her party members arriving her before her. What could be the chances of a Redcloak arriving early?

"You look like you're searching for an excuse to dive right into that bakery. What, are you regretting only giving yourself half an hour already?"

The sudden question startled Roxana making her almost jump in place. She swiftly turned her head to the voice's origin which turned out to be Simion. How dare he imply that she was a glutton! Such indignation could not be idly suffered. Besides it was well within her rights to eat whenever she pleased. Roxana assertively stated looking the human in the eyes, "As if need an excuse to buy anything! I'm just choosing not to. If I chose to I could walk inside and buy whatever I pleased. I'm staying out here because the Redcloaks need to see their superior acting appropriately and not wander off," she then began tugging at her own purple cloak, "Besides I already ate before I came here. I'd rather not gain some pounds from eating consonantly."

[Finland SSR]

Simion Valerin, the marksman from Nur!

---

Upon being greeted by the candid question, Roxana immediately went into verbal defense. The elven archer stared directly into Simion's eyes with a far from pleased expression and began to complain that she can go out and eat as she pleases, she just chooses not to to show a good example to the redcloaks under her wing, and that it would hurt her figure as well. She might have thought that she looked intimidating and assertive towards the Legionnaire recruit - or at least Simion presumed so, he couldn't really burrow in her mind and find out the answer - but the height difference between the human and the elf, as well as the outright ridiculousness of the situation, meant that Simion snickered, holding away a laugh.

Roxana was still technically his commanding officer, so even if her act was so amusing, he knew he couldn't go overboard.

"So what you're telling me is that you actually don't have the freedom of choice and can't go into that bakery, because you have to maintain discipline and look good to us Redcloaks. So you're hoping for the excuse of us being late." the marksman replied. Truth be told, that second sentence was just conjecture, but one Simion decided to go with regardless. His eyes diverted towards the bakery itself - indeed, the aroma of the freshly baked goods inside was mesmerizing and hard to resist - the was one of the more popular places in this part of the town for a reason. Much like the elf, Simion had already eaten earlier today, but who could say no to a quick snack before a long trip?

"You know, on the topic of that bakery, I wouldn't say no to a croissant, either. If you're going to chain yourself here, then I can pick something up for you on the way as well. Not with my money, of course."

[Verwood Island Archipelago]

Fire, ice - it wouldn’t be long before someone suggested throwing a bucket of water over the little buggers. That said the Inquisitor’s of terrain and ambushes were right up Telsor’s street.

“Thanks for the advice - we’ll bear it all in mind. I think that we’ll going to have to make our choices when we’ve got more intel from the target location. One thing that I have learned is that’s job descriptions are more of a guide than an accurate representation of what we can expect.”

The smell from that bakery was making his mouth water plus there were one or two things that he needed to purchase before they left. To the others in his team he said, “I need some supplies but i won’t be long and I’m grabbing some cakes from the bakery whilst I’m out if anyone fancies one.” Rising from the table he nodded to the others, including Pan before heading for the door.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

The Bane of the Undead, Sylanna Sundancer

---

It's a good day to come back to the Legion.

Those were the thoughts of the tall elven woman as she gracefully weaved her way through the crowds of the city of Velathri, making her way towards the massive gated complex in the distance. Her long blonde hair flowed freely behind her, adorned by a small winged headband, and she wore a rather simple, long white dress with golden embroidery. Were it not for the ornate Snow Elf longsword lightly hanging from her hip while in its scabbard, it would've been difficult for anyone to guess she was a member of the Paean Legion. Her looks gave a closer impression to a simple Thapsian tourist, or perhaps some sort of High Elf noble--to anyone ignorant enough to be unable to tell the differences, at least.

Not that it mattered. When she reached the large steel gates that separated the headquarters of the Paean Legion from the rest of the city, a simple smile and a nod at the guards was enough for them to allow her inside. Not because of the sword she carried, naturally, but because of the cloak that sat on her shoulders, a rich shade of purple covering her back and establishing her as a high ranking member of the Legion.

"It's good to see you again, miss Sundancer!" One of the guards spoke cheerfully, prompting the woman to turn in his direction.

"It's a pleasure to be back, Gregor. I'll see you around. Don't slack off, now!" She replied with the same cheerful attitude, far less hesitant to mingle with humans than your average High Elf. Up in the frozen North, where only the hardiest of crops grew and every hunt was a struggle, one tended to learn that being picky with who you associated with wasn't an option. Incidentally, this generally made the Snow Elves to be seen as generally more likable than their Thapsian counterparts.

Soon leaving the gates behind, Sylanna made a beeline towards the front desk, waving at a few of the acquaintances she had made during her time in the Legion on the way there. Strangely, while there were several people gathered around the place, the number was nowhere near what it would be during the Legion's busier hours. Even before reaching the bulletin board, Sylanna had a good idea of the reason for this, and her suspicions were confirmed when she saw that only three contracts had been posted on the board so far. Goblin extermination, escort duty and relic hunting, huh... She mused as she carefully looked over the details of each quest and the rewards offered.

Without yet making up her mind, the Snow Elf moved from the bulletin board to the front desk, addressing one of the ladies there. "Excuse me, could you tell me who has signed up for each of the contracts so far?" She asked politely, to which the woman quickly dug up a small list. Dutifully she listed off the names and ranks of everyone involved in each of the three contracts so far, along with some general details about them that she could remember. All the while, Sylanna nodded along.

A witch hunter, a knight and a fighter, huh... All of them Red Cloaks, too. She mused. While she wasn't one to underestimate other Legionnaires based on their ranks, it was still concerning that the Red Hill escort group had no one of experience within the Paean Legion to lead the party, while the other two groups did. Perhaps, she considered, it was due to the lower pay compared to the other two groups, but money had never been the elf knight's primary concern, and so, she made a decision.

Thanking the lady, Sylanna walked a few steps away from the front desk, looking at the tavern portion of the Legion's hall and clearing her throat. "To any fellow Legionnaires who have signed up for the Red Hill contract, would you mind coming here for a second?"

[Union Princes]

Witch Hunter Wilhard

Hearing an announcement from a new female voice, Strauch turned his head and saw a Snow Elf standing at attention with a purple cloak. A veteran elf....the old man thought as he stared at her longsword and cloak. Young, brave, and commanding respect, this was someone that would've have been an excellent student in the School of the Defense against the Dark Arts and no doubt an excellent agent of the Inquisition.

Stomping his way to meet her, Strauch left the party to their own affairs and approached her. Given that his hat made himself look taller than he already is, it would've been funny if it weren't for the fact that he wasn't smiling. Instead it was a professionally neutral expression that he showed.

"I am Willaim Strauch, at your service." the Witch Hunter greeted as he bend his back forward with his left arm behind it while his right hand was extended into an open palm for an handshake. His head faced the floor with his one eye looking down at the Snow Elf's shoes. This entire gesture and the words used was the official etiquette of the Guild of the Twin-Tailed Comet. This was one of the courtesy moves that was done between two duelist before a match.

[Toaslandia]

Hadrian looked up, and saw a purple-cloak Snow Elf addressing the group. He got up, walked over to her, and bowed. "Sword-Singer Hadrian, at your service, ma'am. I hope we will get along nicely. In my Clan, our Grand Sword-Singer is a Snow Elf, and is quick to remind lowly squires when they say 'Why do we have a High Elf leading us?'. I have personally seen Snow Elf warriors in battle and I am extremely honored to be in your presence."

[Nuridia]

Asra merely listened to the Witch Hunter when he gave her advice on weapons, and she looked directly at them. "Thanks for the advice, but I'm more of a hit and run kind of girl...rogue things and all that." She then headed to the blacksmith, who sharpened her knives and suggested to her some alternative weapons in case the dagger thing didn't work. She did think about Wilhard's idea of a spear, but how would she be able to carry it without such a long weapon getting in the way? It wasn't impossible...but maybe a short-sword would be a bit of a better change of pace. So she bought one, pressed some coins into the blacksmith's palm and went to go meet up with her brother. She hoped he'd gotten ready, he's the one who wanted to try out this caravan mission in the first place. Well, the pay was decent so maybe it wasn't so bad.

Alcide meanwhile was walking out of the bakery with half of his pack stuffed full of cakes, breads, pies and other such things, that Asra eyed exasperatedly when she rounded the corner to see him. "See, THIS is why you don't go into bakeries by yourself! I hope you didn't blow all our coin on snacks and shit! You just can't resist!" Al looked at her defensively. "Most of this was from the reject rack, thank you. I mean it doesn't make sense to just let them throw it away, it's perfectly good! It may just be a little ugly looking or squashed. Besides, we have to consume a lot of calories!"
"To ease our transformations during the full moon, which is weeks away!"
"Shut up, I wanted cake. And I know you do too...there's strawberry in here, so don't say I'm not a good brother." Asra's ears perked up at the mention of strawberry cake but schooled her features back into place at Al's amused smirk. "Come on, we're going to be late for this mission. That purple-cloak Sylanna will apparently be our leader on this so we have to meet with her. Got your shit?"
"Of course. You got yours?"
"Naturally."

Pan listened to Wilhard's advice, he may have been a bit strange but the man did know his stuff and nobody could take that away from him. That was something she could admire, she nodded in his direction as he left the table and did the same to Telsor when he left. "Bring me back one of those little iced berry cakes, those are my favorite. With the pink frosting?" She gave him a few ducats after counting them out, pressing them into Telsor's hand. "Keep the change, for the coffee. I'll be meeting up with whoever's our superior on this mission." She got up, took Cerberus' leash and walked out of the bar, hoisting her knapsack on her shoulders.

[Pasong Tirad]

Harald of Stoutshield
Getting Ready

---

Harald received his orders, and got to work. He went back to his barracks to put on his armor and pick up his weapons, and packed everything he needed - a fresh new set of clothes and his bedroll. Everything else, he had to get from the Legion General Store. His load, for now, was pretty normal. He was used to carrying his humongous shield and snowhammer. He can walk for miles with this load, but now he had to stock up. Enough food for the journey, a waterskin, and torches. A proper Dwarven mining hat would have been great to have, especially if they had one of those crystals that they used to use for light, but the general store wasn't that well stocked, it seemed. And so, he kept his pack light enough. Just his bedroll, some clothes, his waterskin, and enough food for a few days. Keeping light was good.

He had forgotten when he was last underground. It must have been years, and it was definitely before he chose to further his education in warfare and fighting. He was both very nervous and pretty excited at the prospect of spending much of his time underground again. He was particularly nervous about possible cave-ins due to whatever machinations were down there - more frightened of that than any living (or unliving) creature that may be lurking underground - and he was excited at the prospect of taking his hammer and bashing or picking away at rocks. Maybe he could even find a few nuggets of precious metals during their time down there.

He found his boss, the Purplecloak elf, meditating under a tree, right next to the man with the firearm. She seemed annoyed so, not wanting to antagonize her further, merely went close and acknowledged her presence. "Ma'am," he said, nodding, and then he put down his pack and his shield. He sat down on a shaded patch of grass near the two of them, took out a piece of cloth and began polishing his shield. It has gone through a lot. Plenty of bumps and scratches here and there from his past experiences in battle, nothing major that would compromise the integrity of his main weapon, though. He decided to sit here quietly for now, waiting for the monk and the wolf to arrive.

[Absolon-7]

Simion Valerin, the marksman from Nur!

Harald of Stoutshield

Roxana Ma'gonid

---

He was right. The jerk was completely right! How the bloody Mot did he see right through her! If she was to be honest with herself, she was hoping on the rest of the party being somewhat late and that could open a window for her to buy something real quick. This was yet one more part of being higher rank she wasn't that fond of was the made up pressure to keep up appearances and discipline but lately she was growing frustrated with it. Maybe just acting like how she wanted once in a while couldn't hurt when dealing with Red Cloaks. Would help them see her as just another person and not some faceless superior that should be held in awe. Although she kept her mouth shut at the accurate observation but she spoke up once Simion said something about buying croissants for the both of them.

"Well I'd have to be pretty spiteful to say no to someone getting food for me," said Roxana pleased with the situation's outcome and taking out her money purse giving Simion some funds, "Here, this should be enough for a croissant for each of us."

It then when the party's dwarf member arrived and quietly took to himself to a nearby patch of grass and began polishing his shield after giving a respectful greeting. Roxana returned the polite greeting, "Hello Harald," and then turning to face Simion again, "Uhm thanks for this."

[Finland SSR]

Simion Valerin, the marksman from Nur!

---

Roxana's expression was clearly still sour, but the elven archer conceded regardless, and when Simion offered to buy pastry for them both, she agreed and gave her some money to bring one back to her - though when the marksman observed the coins she placed in his hand, it was pretty clear that no croissant would cost this much. Right, Roxana soon explained it - it was for them both.

Simion didn't consider himself so poor that he'd consider eating off the goodwill of others, and especially not a fellow Legionnaire, but it was for a snack and she was probably a lot wealthier than him anyway, so he just ignored that for now.

"It's nothing, just helping out a fellow." Simion muttered in response to Roxana's thanks, then turned around, only to meet face to face with Harald, the dwarf who had signed up for the heirloom party alongside the marksman and the others. He had just arrived, apparently, and immediately sat down to start polishing his shield. A man of few words, just as expected of Dwarven warriors. "Welcome. I'll be back in a minute."

Which might be an unrealistic goal, because the bakery was busy as always and the line was extending out the door. Maybe this was a mistake after all... Thankfully, however, the line moved forward exceptionally fast, thanks to a total of five shop clerks working to process each order and the rest of the bakery working their asses off to make as many pastries as they humanly could. Is that an adaptation of mass production from the Great Cities I see? There wasn't really much Simion could make out from over here, but there was a clear division of labor, just like in, say, Nurian manufacturies. Which explains why the line moved so fast. And also perhaps why this place was so popular all the time.

A few minutes later, the marksman walked out, a triumphant smirk on his face, carrying the two croissants for him and Roxana and a third for Harald, which he bought with his own change. The dwarf didn't openly request anything to be brought for him, but Simion figured that it'd be a good deed to get something for him as well. After all, they're all in this together, at least for now, so it's a good idea to get some friendships and contacts going.

"Nur's pastries are better, but this is nothing to scoff at either," the marksman spoke, tossing a pastry Harald's way, handing the other to Roxana and then taking a bite of his own. "Those were a lot sweeter and had a more refined taste."

[Zarkenis Ultima]

The Renegade Pirate Heir, Frey Farwind

---

Dressed in a rather unassuming, old linen cloak, a young man with blond hair walked through the unfamiliar streets of Velathri, a sense of wonder in him as he looked at every fountain and monument in the city with childlike curiosity. Even though he had been all over the Eastern Archipelagos, even though it had seen many of its wonders and horrors, the streams of golden sand, the lavish port cities and the sun setting over the high seas, even with all of that, the wider world certainly had a way of reminding him that there was much yet to be explored. This only served to inflame the man's adventurous spirit, and though he decided to continue sightseeing for a bit before moving to face his destiny, there was no denying the fact that he felt more than ready to commence his days as a Legionnaire.

What a wonderful city to begin a new life in.

Still, regardless of how fascinating a metropolis of the Western Heartlands might've seemed to an Easterner such as him, the one thing he did not entirely appreciate were the crowds and masses that slowly moved through the streets of the city like blood in the veins of a very fat man. It was just plain uncomfortable. In the East, he would either be on the Maelstrom, able to wander as he pleased when not tending to his duties, or in some small town or village, spending some coin to treat himself to a good meal after a job well done; even when he traversed the larger cities of the Eastern kingdoms, he usually stuck to the shadows or roamed the heights. But here, in an attempt to blend in, he had to put up with tons of people bumping into him, pushing against him, forcing him to maneuver around them.

Not that this didn't offer some interesting opportunities.

"Ah!" A man cried out as he walked right into Frey, stumbling a couple of steps back in the process. "Watch where you're going, whelp!" He said angrily, jabbing an accusatory finger at the younger man, who simply raised his hands in an attempt to calm the man down.

"My bad, sir. Won't happen again, I promise." He said meekly, as if he wished to avoid confrontation. The man simply huffed and continued on his way. After several moments, however, he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"What is it?" He growled as he whirled around, coming to face Frey once more.

"Here, you dropped this." The blond man replied as he handed over a small leather pouch, quite heavy despite its size. It was obvious what the pouch contained, and after staring in surprise for a few moments, the other man grabbed it.

"Oh... thank you! You know, maybe you're not so bad after all. See you around, kid." He stated, before continuing on his way. With a kind smile on his face, Frey waved the man off and then did the same, heading away from the scene. Soon enough, a grin appeared on his face, and he looked down at his hand, which contained several gold coins taken straight from the old man's purse.

Oldest trick in the book, and yet it never fails to earn me some rapport and some coin on the side. The man thought with a snicker, tossing up a coin with his thumb. I bet he didn't even notice he never dropped the purse.

Looking up, Frey noticed one of his hawks, Gale, circling overhead. Without a second thought, he ducked into a side alley, and the hawk soon descended, perching on his arm while holding an apple's stalk on its beak. "Nice catch. I'll get you some food in return later, buddy." The blond stated. The bird flew off, and Frey looked at it for a few moments before continuing on his way.

Well, it's about time I headed down to the bulletin board to pick my first contract. He thought as he bit into the apple. With that in mind, he began heading towards the walled complex in the distance, taking off his large linen shroud and revealing the red cloak of the Paean Legion beneath, as well as his modest, but functional leather armor. Tying up his shroud around his waist, he moved towards the Legion's headquarters at a brisk pace, soon receiving clearance to move past the gates and reaching the front desk.

Once there, the Easterner took his time inspecting the jobs available, munching on his apple in the meantime. The caravan escort contract, being the lowest paying one, was immediately discarded, even though it seemed like the easiest going off of available information. The goblin extermination contract was tempting, but in the end, he felt more inclined to take the heirloom retrieval one. Earning the gratitude of a famous adventurer, a generous reward in ducats and a special gift? Who could pass that up?

Walking up to the front desk, he addressed one of the ladies there. "Excuse me, ma'am, I'd like to sign up for the heirloom retrieval quest if possible." He said with a soft accent native to the rural areas to the south of the Archipelago, which tended to help him endear himself to others quickly. The woman looked at him and then quickly looked at one of the papers on her desk, before giving him an apologetic smile.

"Oh, the party for that contract was already confirmed, so we're not supposed to make any further changes to it. But maybe if you talk to the party leader and she's fine with it, we could make an exception." The lady spoke before looking at the tavern portion of the hall, pointing at a girl with white hair having a meal by herself on a table by the corner. "That's her over there, the high elf. Her name's Roxana."

Glancing over at the woman while taking yet another bite, Frey nodded. "Thank you kindly, ma'am! I'll go talk to her. Hope it's my lucky day." He said with a smile.

Afterwards, the man walked away from the desk and towards where Roxana was having a last minute meal before heading off. Approaching quietly, but ensuring that he was noticed, Frey soon reached her side and gave a small bow before stating his case. "Greetings, ma'am. Roxana, correct? Apologies for interrupting your meal. I recently became a Red Cloak for the Legion, and the heirloom retrieval contract caught my eye; you see, I appreciate gold and treasure as much as the next person, and was hoping to prove myself and earn some of that. But I was told that the party had already been confirmed or something like that--I'm not sure about that, you see, I'm new here after all--so, I was told I'd have to talk to you." He explained, before offering the High Elf girl a smile. A bit of flattery won't go amiss. No need to lie either.

"It would be an honor if you'd allow a new recruit such as myself to carry out my first contract in the company of a Purple Cloak such as you."

Roxana was over sitting on the Legion Tavern eagerly munching on a cinnamom bun and a glass of goat milk savoring their delicious flavor in her mouth. Alternating between taking a bite of the treat and taking a sip of the warm milk. She knew she had to rush to the West Gate in around half an hour but she didn't want to go out on an empty stomach. She still had to quickly buy a helmet too. Her last one was lost in that contract where she got injured and not having a decent helmet was might as well asking to be killed in any fight. She had to get her donkey Methuselah to move with probably a carrot or something as he could be quite stubborn. She still had to think of conversation topics for her party too. Oh Astarte, there was so much to do. She dipped her head down in defeat before hearing some accented voice speak out to her. He was quite a respectful fellow and she didn't really mind another hand in the contract. It was a bit annoying when he admitted that this would be his first mission but eh, everyone's gotta start somewhere.

"Yeah, you can join the rest of us and this Purple Cloak as well. The contract could be tough so more help is good," said Roxana swiveling the bar stool around to face him completely instead of just turning her head, "Let's just go get you added in the front desk's ledger."

"Excellent! Thank you kindly! I'll not disappoint you. It's my first contract, but not my first time on the field, so to speak." Frey spoke with a bright smile after hearing the High Elf's answer, delighted that she had no qualms about accepting him on her team. He waited for her to stand up and lead the way back to the front desk, taking a couple more bites from his apple as he walked alongside her, his mind already speculating about the benefits to be obtained in this contract. Not just the hefty sum and the mysterious gift from Ernst Byron, but also the potential benefits of earning the Purple Cloak's favor during the mission.

But I'd better not get ahead of myself. I'm new here, I should focus on not making any mistakes.

Arriving back at the front desk, Frey looked at the lady there and gave her a discreet thumbs up before glancing at Roxana. "Would you do the honors?"

"Very well," calmly said Roxana to the front desk lady who was currently busy reading over some papers, "Oh, Miss Rizzo could you please add this here lad to the contract ledger I just took. Barely asked me join up you see and I believe he already asked."

"Oh certainly sweety, let me just write it down," said Ms. Rizzo opening up the ledger and scribbling down her new party member's name on the heavy book and looking up to give a smile, "There we go. Well Ms. Ma'gonid you can welcome Mr. Frey Fairwind to your party."

"Thank you very much Ma'am. Thanks for this. Bye-bye," sweetly said Roxana before turning to Frey, "Well, Frey, seeing that's settled and everyone else left already I'll give you the same instructions. Let's meet in half an hour at the West Gate. The one where the aqueduct connects with the city. We can make a game plan there right in front of the bakery bordering the small plaza there. Oh, and get any supplies you think you'll need. We might be out for a few days."

"Got it. I'll be on my way then, I'll see you at the West Gate. Thanks for everything again, Roxana." Frey said with another bow, before leaving the High Elf to finish her meal.

Alright. That's the first obstacle taken care of. He thought with a smile of triumph on his face as he made his way out of the Paean Legion's headquarters and back into the city proper, tossing the core of his apple away as he went. Now to prepare for the journey...

---

Once the half hour given by the party leader had elapsed, Frey made his way to the West Gate. He was dressed much in the same way as before, but his old linen cloak was no longer tied around his waist, and four scabbards hung from his hips. The larger one on the left, fairly elongated, belonged to his trusty cutlass, the first weapon he had ever wielded, while the one on the right, shorter and yet wider, held a pair of blades of exotic design, stolen from a mercenary hailing from one of the easternmost isles of the Archipelago. Finally, hanging at each of his hips were two smaller scabbards which hosted his trusty daggers, his preferred weapons when it came to striking quickly or stabbing someone in the back. In addition, he had a travel pack on his back; he usually didn't bother bringing a lot of supplies during his travels, and was more than prepared to ditch it if a battle broke out, but it couldn't hurt to be a little better prepared than usual this time.

It didn't take him long to arrive to the place Roxana had told him the group would be meeting, and when he did, he noticed three of the other party members had already gathered there: the High Elf herself, a white-haired man, and a dwarf. Not used to the sight of the stout men of the North, Frey found himself staring for a second, but quickly turned his gaze back to the leader of the party.

"Greetings. I see I'm not the first to arrive." He said. He withheld judgment on whether that was a good thing or a bad thing; if any of the others had strong opinions about it, they would speak up. "Are we waiting on any others?" He asked afterwards. While he had easily gotten the support of Miss Rizzo at the front desk, he hadn't thought of asking about the other members of the party. A mistake, but a minor one.

Suddenly, a hawk descended from the sky and perched itself on Frey's arm, bearing the stalk of yet another apple on its beak. Seeing this, Frey laughed. "Where do you keep finding these, Gale?" He asked, obviously expecting no answer as he took the fruit from the bird.