The Academy of Krax was a large building that wrapped it’s grey stone exterior around a green courtyard filled with wild flowers and planted flowers imported from the orient. Here the Master Paladin Franx Jerril performed his studies on combating the plague as well as coordinating the inquisition against cultists and the infected. This area of study and learning had quickly turned into the plague fighting capital of the country, and possibly in all of east Avara, if not the world. 

	The building was not plain, and was decorated with many banners and flags as if it was a standing reminder that here the Paladins of Krax reigned supreme. Inside the building was a hive of many rooms, studies and separate facilities. Paladins and students of Franx hurried around the endless white halls and passed through the heavy oaken doors, all in a frenzy to get their assignments completed and duties fulfilled. The halls echoed with mutterings, occasional shouts, and the pounds of books being accidently dropped. 

	On the top floor the walls were gilded with bronze, and statues of historical and mythological figures and events crowded the area. Murals lightened the already well sunlit room up with painted emotions of great feats and lowly sorrows worthy of recognition. This was the personal chambers of Franx Jerril in place of a manor, but did not fall short of all the accommodations of one. Maids chased dust in their black and dreary outfits while upright postured butlers cared to the whim of the guests. Here the guests were Derrix, Morinth, and the newest member of the strange alliance, Aristal.

	Aristal stood dripping as the dirt and grime of her long exile into the plaguelands slowly formed rivulets and waterfalled down her slender bare body. She was clean. While powerful horror and hatred still polluted her mind as an acrid miasma, for the first time in ages she felt clean. She looked down to her feet and watched the droplets fall to the floor, brown and brackish. Slowly her dirt covered skin revealed her beauty, one which was seemingly forgotten and long lost. A brief red lipped smile crescented on her fair face as she stepped on top of a fur mat and collected some fresh clothes from a shelf, today she was reborn, today she was clean.

	She stared at a brass mirror as she changed into the clothes, sadly all Franx had to offer was clothes of his own, so she was stuck in a loose fitting white shirt and leather doublet as well as some old trousers. Still her vague smile didn’t fade as she examine herself in the mirror, her once clumped and dirty hair now tamed and falling just above her feminine shoulders neatly. She was pulled out of her admiration and quickly reminded of where she was as a loud thud sounded in the room next to the one she was in, with a faint and muffled apology sounding like Derrix following, an apology probably not for his own actions but rather one of his companions, specifically Morinth.

	She slipped on her old rugged boots, which stood out when compared to her new finely kept clothes and with a new spring in her step, trotted out of the bathroom and through a few doors until she bursted in a little louder than she had hoped into the study.

	The study was exactly what one would expect in the head of the inquisitions house, full of books this way and that. Various subjects printed on the spines of the books, such as theology, medicine, and history. The walls were shelves for baubles and trinkets, and there even was a hanging skeleton in the corner marked with medical information. The sun was ever present in the colorful room as the wooden desk was backed by a great bow window, it’s crimson curtains pulled back.

	The shafts of sunlight fell upon the loose papers of the desk and shelves as well as the trio who jumped at Aristals sudden entry. Among the trio was the older gentleman, Franx, a grey mustachioed man who wore fine blue silks and was both feared and revered for his immense knowledge and power. Of course next to the tall stiff postured man was Derrix, rugged, broad, and relaxed, or as relaxed as Derrix seems to get. He was wearing simple civilian clothes of a pale green. His shirt was cut short at the sleeves, revealing his spiderweb of scars from his face traveled further even down to his fingertips. 

	Next to Derrix was Morinth whom was wearing her leather armor. Even though she had hung up her long coat, she still felt out of place as few had any combat outfit on, Granted, in a place of giants there was no real option for alternate garb other than going in the rough. And, worse so is the fact that her spare set of clothing had been stretched and ripped by some giant monster woman. Oh how she felt out of place. The looks she got all through the countryside, Even with her hood up the entire time, those who got a glimpse of her darker skin would give confused looks. That’s if they could get over her vertically challenged stature in comparison to her new found friends.

	Things seemed to go well for her inside the structure though as she looked around while still trying to pay attention to the two men with her but the decorations were so damned attractive and even though she was a cold hearted death dealer, she had an eye for fashion. She was eager to learn about what they were doing in the first place.. “Ok, so. I’m kind of sorry about your tablet. I mean, it was necessary but shit happens.” after a small chuckle she continued, “In all seriousness, what is it?”

	Franx twirled his moustache as he watched Aristal walk in, only turning back to the conversation as Morinth questioned the newly recovered tablet. He looked at her for a few seconds without responding, as if soaking in her question. He shook his head slightly at himself more than anything and spoke in a very noble voice, thick with a Charlinite accent of long  pounding vowels and sharp consonants, “Forgive me, I forget the tablets are not very well known in the west.”

	“It bears the ancient tenets of honor on it, and possibly more,” He eyed Derrix as he finished his sentence.

	Derrix’s face kept a similar tone to the one he wore in the plaguelands, “more you say?”

	“Um, yes,” Franx said almost absentmindedly, “however we have to discuss a few things before that.”

	“Firstly, how long do you plan on keeping your two lovely friends by your side,” Franx questioned, almost challenging Derrix’s choices in companions.

	The voice of Aristal intercepted the question, it was softer and held more life to it than before as she answered, “I am honor bound to stay with Derrix.”

	The older gentleman stroked his chin, eyeing the woman with his usual suspicious gaze. He motioned towards Morinth, “right, well what about you.”

	Derrix cut in, “Well she is here because she wished to-” 

Before Derrix could finish, Morinth rose her hand slightly and stepped between them. She made sure to wear her winning smile, trying to impress this new fellow, whom had far more emotion than her new grim faced friend, Derrix. “Hi, I’m Morinth. I came here because I found your tablet!” She tapped Derrix side, seeing as she couldn’t reach much higher, “Mr Derrix here was nice enough to let me come along.” 
 
	“Well then,” Franx said with a grumble that befit his appearance, “if Master Paladin Derrix wishes he can take you two with him in his next mission.”

	“Wait, Master Paladin,” Derrix questioned, his eyes narrowing.

	“Indeed, Master Paladin,” Franx concluded, “Marc Galenon personally wanted to congratulate you jumping right to the top, but he had me do it instead.”

	“How,” the new Master Paladin pressed, “or rather why?”

	“Master Paladin Edvin has lost his position, and it has been handed over to you for your great service record, and well,” Franx traced Derrix’s scars in the air with his finger, “that.”

	Derrix simply nodded, not wanting to go into further detail in this and rather just accepting his new rank with dignity, “thank you, and thank the Grandmaster.”

	“I’d say thank him yourself but it seems there is no rest for you Nightbane,” Franx jeered, “you are being deployed again.”

	“With and why?”

	“Your choice, Master Paladin, and here,” Franx handed Derrix a small folded piece of paper, “this is the letter from Marc, read it over, then toss it in the fire, I will send for you around dinner time, but for now I have things to attend to. This inquisition won’t run itself.”

	Derrix nodded his head with a serious expression and slapped his chest in a salute before walking off. Aristal silently hurried after the Master Paladin, with Morinth in tow.

	The trio eventually found themselves in the guest chambers, a large room just as decorated as the others. In it laid a large cushioned bed with two smaller beds that were clearly put up with haste as the announcement of three guests. The room was just as bright as the last, holding a similar bow window that the study had, lighting up the light wood of the room and bouncing beams of sun off the gilded walls and white plaster. Small candles added their own ambient light to the room but were lit for the purpose of spouting the sweet scent of hazelnut, which lightly flavored the room with every breath.

	Derrix plopped himself heavily onto the large bed, sitting up with the white paper unfolded and seemingly glowing against the sunlight. His stalwart gaze scanned left and right the Charlinite symbols that were written in the black ink hand of the Grandmaster. When he finished reading the letter he looked around the room absently, then bounced his eyes back to the letter and began reading again.

	Morinth was disappointed once she got in the room. mostly at Derrix for taking the enormous bed but she quickly got over it and made her way to one of the beds. She looked around the room, seeing all the decorations in the room, like the last. Morinth looked down at her hands which of course had a ray of light on them as well. “Alright, is this much light really necessary?” She stood before her new bed and stretched before walking out to “get a book or something.” 

	She was pretty quick outside of the room, eager to not be surrounded by giants any more, especially without a safety like Derrix beside her. People might think her a pest, well.. her attitude aside. She went for the closest book case she could find and in it was some sort of book on the Charlin Paladin order. “Who would’ve thought, books to honor themselves.. oh well.” she said before returning to the room. Morinth laid the book down on the bed and pulled her boots off. She leaned back and took a deep breath before opening the book.
	
	Aristal collapsed into the soft embrace of one the of the beds, her ever hiding smile bursting from her face as her muscles groaned with delight at the comforting cushions, relaxing for the first time in a long while. Her back popped as it reset itself and released tension and she yelped quite embarrassingly. However no one seemed to pay her any mind as Derrix was still entranced by his paper and Morinth sneering at a book. 

“Aristal,” Derrix grumbled from behind his letter, “you are bound to serve me, by your honor.”

Aristal turned over onto her side and looked at the stern man, “Yes, of course.”

“Then I want you and your blade to accompany me on my next mission, but you must do as I say, and follow my command.,” Derrix vast years as a commander was clearly showing in his words and tone. Aristal simply nodded at his eruption unsure of what she was agreeing to, but whatever it was, it was better than her exile, “of course.”

“Good,” the man trailed off as he lowered the paper to his lap and began to crumple it in his fist. He scanned the room silently before his eyes snagged on the vision of Morinth, her nose in her book, whether or not she was actually reading was up for debate.

As she poured over the text in the book, trying to grasp the story or even care, she could feel his stare. Morinth slowly closed the book and slowly and dramatically turned her gaze upon him. “Hey buddy.” she said with a smile. before slowly turning away and staring at the wall as the book no longer interested her.

Derrix thought to himself as she turned to him. This was the woman he threatened to kill, this was the woman who he regretted ever bringing with him. She was the one who was the sole cause of every headache he has had since the plaguelands, and one he had always silently prayed would go far far away. Yet, despite all this, he knew what he was going to say, and he already felt the regret, although strange desire to ask.

“Morinth,” he said almost at a whisper, the word piercing his head with an oncoming headache. She didn’t turn to face him but her long ears could hear everything he said. 

Derrix shook his head and whistled sharply, “Pssst.”

As Morinth turned slightly, giving him a plain look, Derrix reached into his pocket and procured a small stone, which he then tossed to Morinth. A smile almost broke on his face.

“Want to go find more rocks?”
 
.	A smile from ear to ear crossed her face, she couldn’t believe what he had said. It didn’t feel like him but it was clear that he was getting a slight bit comfortable around her. She show any sarcasm at all when she answered, “Well, Paladin Nightbane Derrix, I’d be more than happy to accompany you to find more rocks.” She chuckled a bit but knew it was unlikely to get an exciting response from the man, and she was dead right.

	The look of a commander reconquered the mans face, and his usual authoritative voice drowned out any tone of playfulness “great, our mission is simple, we must recover a number of tablets for the order, Franx has all the details and the leads to be discussed at dinner, until then, we have the entire academy at our whim.”

	He then looked down at the bed he was sitting on, and his leader nature took ahold of his simpler thoughts, it wasn’t good practice in his mind to feel above those he commands, whether it was his troops or just some people he managed to get stuck with on his own accord, “either one of you can claim this bed for the night, I won’t be needing it.”

	Morinth pictured in her head, sleeping in a huge bed that seemed to stretch in all directions. If it was anything like the one she was currently sitting on, it likely wouldn’t be very comfortable. “Thank you but i’m fine here.” she said before opening the book that was still sitting in her lap. The sight would’ve been funny, a giant book laid out across her lap that to a Charlin would likely be read with one hand. “This is just too much.” she thought before closing the book and looking towards the door. 

“Understood,” Derrix said with his usual authoritative voice, however a tinge of casual tones betrayed it as he continued, studying how much larger the bed is compared to her own stature, “afraid of drowning in a sea of cotton?”

	Before Morinth could do more than make a face and before Aristal could finish her soft chuckling, there was a knock on the door.

	“Dinner.”

	The dining room did not betray the excessive decor of the rest of the Academy. From the carpet, to the ceiling it was finely crafted and decorated. Even the massive table that was the paramount if the room was exquisitely dressed with white silks and bronze threading making it contrast and sparkle. The savory aroma of venison and onion swirled around the room as a single open window let in a soft warm breeze. The faint scent of some sausage tickled the noses of the group as they sat together near the head of the table, where Franx himself sat with his fingers folded and his stomach ready to eat.

	It was a subtle custom, but a custom none the less to remain quiet and contemplative at the dinner table until the food is served, in which the Carlinite would throw subtle out the window and began discussions and ferociously eat the delicious food. Derrix and Franx sat comfortably, staring at each other in silence, as if beginning the conversation without words. Aristal fidgeted in her seat, trying to get comfortable in the mens trousers she was wearing, cursing Franx’s smaller man hips while simultaneously trying to shake off the intense amount of uncomfortable awkwardness she was feeling as she sat at a proper table, seemingly as an honorable woman. 

Morinth was last to sit down, making sure to watch their customs before sitting herself.
She had sat herself beside Aristal, she gazed around the room, eyeing the decor in its entirety. “pretty.. pretty damned ugly! hehehe” she said softly while slightly nudging  Aristal with her elbow. She wasn’t sure what smell had came over her when the smell of onions crossed her nose. She pinched her nostrils shut, “Oh my god, what the fuck is that?” The gentle breeze and pleasant odor of the other dishes helped to mitigate it but it just pierced her to the core, that smell. 

	Morinth was trying to get comfortable in her chair which was just a tad too big for her liking, So she did what she did best, make conversation, for better or worse that is. “So, Uh.. Aristal, Where ya from?”

	Aristal bit her lip as she looked at Morinth. It was clear she wanted to enjoy a conversation but she also didn’t want to disrupt the flow of the tradition of silence. She squinted at Morinth with suspense as she tried to convey her message silently. Luckily the chef burst through the door and began announcing the dishes. The woman let out a sigh of relief and nodded at Morinth, “Rinswald, I’m from Rinswald.”

	She scanned the table as Derrix and Franx discussed the delicious venison happily and stabbed the meat as they cut juicy chunks to bring to their white plates. Potatoes, mushroom and sauteed onions were smothered on top of the meat by the hungry men, and the warm blood and juices of the animal that was collected into a small cauldron was spooned into small bowls were the crispy buttery bread was dipped into and gnawed on with gusto. 

	Aristals eyes were as wide as saucers as she practically dove to collect the best and finest food she has seen in ages while simultaneously muttering back to Morinth, “and you?”

	Morinth was flattered, someone actually replied to her with some respect, granted, with all of her prior comments, respect wasn’t necessarily earned by her other peers. Regardless of this, she turned to Aristal, “Well, I don't know where to start. Oh wait, yeah I do!” She turned to her plate which nearly disgusted her, “I am from the west, Used to live in the Dominion but kind of migrated out east. Met your new master on my way east. Great guy.” She was doing her best to hold a legitimate conversation without turning a person away with excessive sarcasm.

Before Aristal could reply, the two great doors into the dining hall suddenly swept open and thudded before creaking a bit as if in announcement of the new arrival, interrupting the conversation. He stood for a moment as if he was fully taking in the entire room in one quick scan. He was certainly tall by western standards, but held a leanness to him that was rather unlike the bulking mass of Derrix. The man was more compact, hinting at a slimmer build. Though the muscles of his right arm— as his jerkin and tunic were sleeveless— revealed an impressive physique. 

He wore a single shoulder cape like a cloak that hid the left side of his body, but a discerning eye would note it's design allowed him easy flexibility with the unencumbered right arm. A more perceptive person might even have noted the hilt of two swords resting on his left hip under his cloak before they vanished under it. He wore a simple leather jerkin over a dark grey tunic made of silk swathes and loose pantaloons covering his feet of similar color. 

The rest of the strangers garb consisted of loose, billowy clothing— the kind one might wear to keep cool or keep out the ash of the eastern deserts. A scarf and hood hid the stranger's face, all but for his dark eyes which seemed to never be still for more than a moment as they danced about the room absorbing it’s details. The stranger stood silent for a time, before entering proper, the sandals of his feet making light muffled sounds upon the thin carpeted floor. 

 Stopping before the head of the table the man pulled down his hood, as well as his scarf enough to reveal a young face with a trimmed beard. The man’s skin was as black as pitch, not unlike the Jahun-ka of Karkarth,  yet the man lacked the slightly parietal eyes of those people. Instead possessing eyes not unlike the Charlins themselves. More so he seemed darker in some places, most notably around his head and arms, revealing that his skin had been a lighter shade at one point.  

The man moved his right hand over his chest making a fist and bowing slightly, “A thousand pardons,” He began, an easy smile on his lips that caused his eyes to sparkle like that of a childs, hinting at some hidden mischief yet unseen. “Valji of Rihad- or Black Wind in some circles, but you may just call this one Valji.” He chuckled a little at that as if it were a joke. “I was invited by good Master Franx,”                     

	Franx stroked his whimsical mustache as he took in the sight of his guest, a broad smile of acceptance broke from his face, “ah yes, the great pit fighting champion. It’s a pleasure, please take a seat, try some of the food.”

	The clang of a fresh platter being served onto the table interrupted the conversation and Franx gestured towards the new platter of sizzling sausages that were erupting with a meaty aroma. The mustached man perked up “Oh! Try the sausage.” 
 
Derrix looked at the darker man, “Valji, yes I’ve heard of you from some of my recent recruits. I’d like to say I was a fan but I haven’t had time to watch any fights since I was a boy.”

           Vlaji smiled at that as he straightened and made his way around to his seat. Taking his place beside Derrix which placed him across from Aristal. Sitting comfortably a servant stepped in close to pour him a glass of wine— at least Valji assumed it was wine, or hoped so at least, the road gave one few chances to partake— while he took the chance to fill his own plate. He didn’t miss the chance to get a few pieces of the sausage of course. It would be a crime not to partake of Charlin sausage when given the chance. 

        To Derrix he said, “Glad to see there are those in Charlin who still enjoy the games, If you ever find time and interest again in the arena, I can certainly point you to the best fighting pits in Karkarth. Competition in the games has only grown tougher in the past few years." 


	“Of course,” Franx interjected, raising a glass of what was indeed wine, “a good fight is always a nice way to spice up the day.”

	Aristal seemed to recede at the statement while Derrix simply nodded at the man, withholding a few words better left unsaid to the man who rarely sees battle. 

	Morinth had seen this Valji on one of her ‘operations’ a while back so she immediately had respect for him. She was quiet about it though through most of the conversation. It was the first time she had heard him speak and with the general belief that the Jahun-ka are ruthless in general, it made things somewhat awkward. After hearing him talk and seeing him as not really a prick, she eased up a bit and finally spoke, “So ‘Valji’ “.. “Why so dark?” 

Valji raised an eyebrow at that, his charming smile not wavering. "Why so blue?" He asked in turn almost playfully.  

	“What is this? Humor? in this room from other than me?!” Morinth said before looking directly at Derrix, “See? you could learn a thing or two here!” She turned her attention back to Valji,  “So, Where are you from Valji? You are a pit fighter or some such right?”


           Valji chuckled a bit at that as he took a sip of the wine offered before saying, "some such indeed, I am what is known as a bevi-tobor in the East. How you say, a Pit fighter in the common tongue. I've spent most of my life upon the sands and it has proven a life most suited for me. The rush of danger, the heart pounding uncertainty of it all...never knowing what the next moment will bring..." Valji smiled as he cast his gaze downward as if recalling a fond memory. "I wouldn't trade it for anything. I can't imagine living life only for fine comforts and coin, the life of an aristocrat would probably drive me to madness." 

            Vlaji shook his head at that before turning his attention back to Morinth. "And you? I must admit I have not met many Jonite before. Mind wanders toward how one might find themselves in Charlin. Seemingly so far from home?"   

	Morinth smiled a bit, “Some of us do not want to spend forever in the great mountains of the west. I did some fighting myself a while back and I love the rush too, maybe that is what drew me here...” She took a deep breath then spoke, “Though, sometimes one can get homesick but its just the politics, it doesn’t exist out here. Straightforward.. something I like, things to be orderly, So many reasons to not go back.”

She almost sounded sad but was quick to recover from it and returning to her bubbly attitude. “Well, Derrix, Looks like we got our muscle right? Not saying that you aren’t strong or some shit, you know.” 

	Derrix folded his fingers as he leaned over his empty plate, a satisfied full look was sketched on his face. He looked at Franx, “assuming he is joining the party?”

	“Yes, straight from Karkarth, he was recruited by the organization,” Franx offered.”

	“Organization?” Aristal seemed confused at the vague situation presented.

	“Right,” Franx continued, "you see, there is an enigmatic and ancient group that has contacted us through Marc Galenon. They claim that there are special tablets brought to the world by their ancient dragon goddess, and we are going to reclaim them. We suspect the recently recovered tablet of Krax is secretly one such dragon tablets. However that would leave four more to collect, that is your mission.”

	Franx threw his handkerchief down onto his unfinished plate of a half eaten sausage and leaned back in his chair, “Master Paladin Derrix has been appointed head of the operation as he was already on a recovery mission when we were contacted. Valji, if you would not mind, I would request you go under his chain of command. ”

           Valji nodded. "Aye, I have been used to working alone, but given the gravity of our mission. I shall gladly follow Master Derrix lead on this. I assume every member is present?" He added the latter before biting into a specially juicy sausage.  

	Morinth turned to Aristal and jokingly added, “Have you tried the sausages?” and began giggling softly, managing to get a small chuckle out of Aristal. Morinth’s plate was still full of food and she hadn’t touched any of it. She was hungry but really felt awkward eating around all these giant folks.

	“Well,” Franx interrupted, “not every member, as the organization said they were going to find us some more help, and then the one Boyar who wanted to help ended up getting himself killed down in Lrev, something about a western boat or something, I don’t know.”

The mustached man seemed to shake his head out of disappointment, “ For now however this will have to do, I’m also granting a small company of paladins to assist, Derrix can hand pick that later though.”
	
	Morinth perked up upon hearing of the western boat. Her gaze sharpened a bit, “Where was this boat from exactly?” She had went from a bubbly attitude to a very serious one. So serious that it might even rival Derrix himself.

	Derrix raised a brow at his companions new found seriousness. A smirk broke on his face, savoring the moment. He was cut out of his small victory by Franx jumbling to recall the story about the boat. Franx waved his hand as if dismissing the situation,
 “uh, Dominion I think.”

Morinth snapped out of her serious demeanor and went back to her plate with a small smile barely visible. She looked over to Derrix and just nodded a bit, “Well, lets hear about where we are going.”	

	Franx sighed, “well, the organization didn’t quite specify, so we were hoping-”

“The tablet of Krax might hold a clue,” Derrix finished Franx’s sentence.
 
Franx simply nodded while gesturing at an older maid in the corner, who quickly scurried out of the dining room. After a few moments of silence and confused glances, the woman reemerged through the large double door with creak. The grey slab covered in ancient Charlin writing was held in her shaking arms as she scuffled across the carpet towards her mustached master.

The carpet scrunched up under her toes as she roughly glided towards the table. With a yelp the woman tripped over the sudden bump in the floor, shooting her arms out to catch something to break her fall and sending the tablet flying.

Her fingers caught a handful of the back of Derrix’s shirt, breaking her fall while barely moving the stagnant man from his seat other than his own arm shooting out of his own accord to help the woman back to her feet.

Before anything could be said the tablet smashed into the table with a loud clanging bang. The sudden impact sent drinking glasses and plates flying and shattering, showering Morinth in warm sausages, and drenching the rest of the party in water and wine. There was a laughing jeer from Aristal as the group looked at the kaleidoscope of foods and shattered glass that sullied the table.

Morinth shot up with her hands raised, flinging the little plump meats in all directions. “What the fuck!” she yelped, giving the maid quite possibly the dirtiest look she had ever received or seen. “Why couldn’t it had been water. Who did I piss off for this to happen to me.” she said softly before starting to wipe her self off with a cloth napkin. 

	A small deep voiced laugh stole its way from Derrix as he sat drenched in sticky wine, amused at Morinth’s misfortune. The two shot each other a mix of menacing and amused looks, and the occasional flung sausage, but were interrupted by the soft sputtering of the water soaked tablet. The strange sounds quelled everyone’s reaction to the mess, even lightening Franx’s red angry face as he was silenced in the middle of scolding the maid. Everyones attention was quietly brought to the drenched tablet. 

          A warm ray of sausage began to engulf the tablet as it slowly seemed to hum to life. Valji stood up carefully as he cautiously approached the glowing tablet hoping it had not broken, and what he saw truly surprised him. New runes seemed to be writing themselves into existence in bright azure blue. Runes Valji distinctly recognized as Old Draconic. Near the bottom of the tablet, the runes stopped appearing and instead something else was revealing itself. Intricate lines ran across the stone surface as if written by an unseen finger. 

        "The rest of you might want to see this," Valji said in a tone of disbelief. Glowing outward from the stone surface looked to be a perfect map of Avara. Valji had seen enough maps in Karkarth used by traders to recognize the eastern coastline. From the rest of the design, he theorized was a rough sketch of Avara. However, it was the single bright white dot on this bizarrely real map that caught the pit fighters attention. A dot that seemed to rest right on the edge of the southern coast of Avara, specifically where Zar Dratha would undoubtedly be located. 

	Derrix leaned over the tablet next to Valji. He simply looked at everyone else, the message was clear despite his ignorance of Old Draconic. Hs piercing golden eyes examined everyone else's reactions before he spoke, “We need a boat.”

	Morinth spoke up, “Didn’t you say Lrev had a port? Perhaps we could pick one up there?”

	Derrix looked over to his sausage scented friend, “my thoughts exactly.”

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[hider=What really happens when we log off XD]
(keep this XD)
 Morinth tapped the screen on her smartphone and began sending a text message while Derrix pulled out a cigarette and unclinched his asscheeks. “Man, this whole serious business is killing me!” Morinth gave a sneer, “You think I like playing the retard? Man.. Shoulda stuck with adult videos.” Derrix laughed a bit then stretched out before saying “Whew. nice weather eh?” She just gave him a dirty look. “Well, Derrix, back to it.” She said and got back into her bubbly attitude while derrix clinched his ass cheeks again. He looked at her and whispered. “Hey, what are you doing after work?”

“Not you.” she said, coldly.
[/hider]