[center][color=gold][b][h1]Chapter One ~ An Offer Most Curious[/h1][/b][/color][/center] [hr] [color=gold][i]Enduwin Vrentian Plains Sfel Docks Fish Rest Tavern 6:23 am 3rd Day of Fire.[/i][/color] “The spiders are restless, stirring, whispering talking; afraid. When the spiders are fearful it is a portent most dire. High in the Skrag the Speaker’s Speak and beg the Listener to Hear. Low in Aumhaft, across the swept plains, tales of flame reach Lords’ ears. Darkness moves again, it’s said, stirs its head from an age old slumber.” “Ah! Give in! Quit spooking me kids will ya!” came the yell of the tavern owner. A gruff, slightly greasy man, though bearing a welcoming smile. Three children all younger than ten, by the stranger’s reckoning, scampered away from the cloaked patron and out the door onto the docks of Sfel. The middle-aged man who’d been regaling the old wives’ tale to them left out a throaty chuckle, clamped by the smoke of his pipe. “Aye. Another, good sir.” He beckoned to the tavern man. “They should be arriving shortly.” The apparent stranger pulled down the hood of his tapered robes and smiled. "Mister Cuvahkt?" came the question. "Aye Conrad. I'd appreciate it if you'd keep my meeting of some, [i]peculiar[/i] individuals in a tavern at dawn to yourself." Conrad, evidently the tavern owner's name, was a little surprised to see the teacher darken his door like this. What individuals did he mean? 'Who was coming?' he wondered. An early morning mystery was not what Conrad has expected that nippy morn after flopping himself out of bed when the children has awoken. "Not to pry or nothing, Mr. C, but ya cannot think I'd not ask the meaning of such when ya stroll in 'ere this early with some odd sounding business?" Conrad said, in a questioning but not unfriendly tone. Eolas left out a small chuckle before replying; "I told you many times, Conrad, call me Eolas." No answer to the question posed was given. Eolas knew Conrad to be a good man, a community man. He felt bad about just thrusting this on him, but an impromptu meeting had to been arranged and a tavern was the logical place. Looking up at the tavern owner, he saw a furrowed brow and look of deep consternation in his eyes. Sighing slightly, Eolas resigned that he at least owed the man an explanation, even if it was to be a fabricated one. "It's some old baggage. Something from back in Ozgart. Family matter. I'd just like to get this over. I'm sorry for landing it on your lap on an early morning, but I'd really appreciate some tight lips. I have a certain air of perfection, of not being a person, that needs to be maintained for the parent's sake, as a teacher." Conrad's face unforrowed, his expression soften and he nodded meaningful at the old scholar. Approaching his patron's table, he landed down a second mug of broth without saying a word. There wasn't time for truth or guilt. This wasn't who Eolas was. Lying to people, sulking about in the dawn as people lay in bed. Using backwater channels to get word out that he needed people hired. It all felt so, so dirty to him. Puffing his cheeks and exhaling, the old Ventus genuinely felt the weight of the world baring down on him. Reaching down and fiddling with the cuff of his boot a little, he began to feel more than a little anxious about this whole endeavour. His endeavour. It had all been such a rush 'till now, he'd nary had a moment to pause and think about. 'Well no backing out' he concluded silently to himself. Only a moment later, as if the universe were in sync, the tavern door swung open and in strode the first of his so-called 'applicants.' [hr]