Faraldir spat, and a chicken bone skittered across the wooden board set before him. He sat at the head of the table, a long thing of roughshod driftwood fit for a dockside tavern like the Flowing Bowl. He was joined at dinner by his prospective party, a ragtag group of a dozen men, mer, and beastfolk. He knew some of them by name already. Lijah Cuu, the Breton from High Rock, good with a blade, better in the shadows. Allectus Valeres, a swordsman hailing from the Imperial City. Gog gro-Magog, wolf-friend. And Brother Gaius, priest of Arkay, who sat at his left and picked at his venison with knife and fork.

Their meal was coming to a close. It was time to speak, Faraldir knew, and some of the men had turned their eyes to him. The Nord took a long draught of ale, and set the goblet down on the table. He offered them a wolfish smile. 

“Gaius,” he said after a moment, slowly and surely, “how much do our guests owe for this feast?” he asked. A feast it was. Fine wine, venison, roasted chicken, mead and ale. No expense had been spared, and there had been plenty of expenses. 

“Nothing,” Gaius answered. The wolfish smile struck him again. 

“Nothing,” Faraldir repeated. He took another draught of the ale. “All this, paid for with my own gold. Me, a poor Nord, a sellsword who lived by the meager profits of his blade for the better part of his life.” He paused a while, turning his eyes to the dark brew in his goblet. “And I was poor. Before I went beneath the earth.”

Faraldir stood, draining the goblet of ale and reaching for a bottle of Alto wine. “This man to my left is Brother Gaius Tarso,” he said as the wine flowed. “He is a priest, a man of the Divines, and a learned man of great knowledge. In our travels, he told me of the Ayleids, the ancient elves who once ruled these lands. He told me of their ruins.” Faraldir set the bottle of wine down and drank of the gold liquid. “He told me where I might find one near to us, and I descended into those dark depths.” He drank deeply once more, and set the goblet back on the table.

“You see the profits of my expedition before you. You have eaten of it. Drunk of it. And I am offering you an opportunity to take it for yourself. Join me, and you’ll see a great many feasts more.”

And Faraldir sat, leaned back in his chair, and smiled that wolfish smile.