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The first drops of rain… they splattered on the roof of the building, signaling the breaking of tension. The priestess at the front of the room let her gaze drift upwards. Then she let out a long sigh. Both she and the bald human exchanged quick words. Then the man slipped behind the curtain. The priestess’ gaze slid coldly back out to the crowd. For a moment, she allowed the din of murmuring to continue. Then she raised her hand.

[center][h3]Clong!!![/h3][/center]

In the corner of one of the tallest booths, a massive drum was struck. It was loud enough to reverberate through the massive room, silencing all who dared to speak. Even those in the boxes, as high class as they may be, fell into respectful quiet 

[color=00B4D8]”Welcome, all of you. I would say this was a pleasure, but that would be a lie. We are not here to make kindness and revelry. We are here to speak of saving Elysium, before it is too late..”[/color] The priestess’ voice fills the room, sharp and well spoken despite her apparent age.

A fresh wave of murmurs crosses the crowd. It is a big statement to suggest that the entire known world was in danger. Some of the fourteen snorted or joked. Others rolled their eyes. Those in the boxes along the walls stayed eerily silent, save for a few concerned mutters. Those masked people seemed entirely convinced by the priestess’ words. Several held hands or wrapped their arms around each other.

[color=00B4D8]”The lot of you were chosen because of your skill. Some are warriors. Others are artists. Still others are well versed in abilities beyond the normal person’s comprehension. Seven of you will become warriors, destined to protect and save the realm from coming danger. The other seven will never be allowed to leave this island.”[/color]

The priestess takes a pause. It lasts just long enough for one of the men in the crowd to scoff and speak up. “What is this?! Some sorta cult bullshit? Why the hell should I trust an elf?!”

With a darkening gaze, the priestess speaks again, [color=00B4D8]”King Rosmund has awakened something deep and angry from within the core of the earth. A beast that will hatch soon and destroy everything in its wake. This petty war will be the end of our people if we do not band together… But you fools refuse to make peace. As such, we, a neutral force, are gathering warriors for the purpose of defeating this beast when it rises. Believe it or don’t. You now know too much to be freed from this island peacefully. Tonight, seven of you will be chosen to tame dragons.”[/color]

This sparks a fresh wave of rage. Of laughter. The priestess grits her teeth and waves grandly with her hand. On cue, the curtains slide open and reveals the only proof of the priestess’ words. Seven perfectly similar eggs sit on a table. They are easily three feet tall in height and would be difficult to wrap one's arms around. 

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