"Booted off the game."  That was an incredibly mild way to phrase death.  Sleeping with the fishes, Davey Jones' locker, passed on, gone to a better place--and now booted off the game.  At the back of her mind, Alisea wondered if that phrase would catch on.  At the front of her mind, Alisea was picturing trying to enter a dungeon with three people, neither healer nor tank, and no actual experience with battle.  She eyed the tinker, face impassive, trying to estimate his skill compared to his apparent self-confidence--or recklessness, or even just ignorance.  The magess couldn't tell which it was.

Fyaira's words, on the other hand, were far more sensible--and practical.  Alisea found herself nodding along as the rogue spoke.  [color=ec008c]"Right, we need to start in the fields.  If we run about ten minutes south, we will run into some wild boars.  I suspect any other direction will have mobs at about that distance."[/color]

Alisea cast her eyes about the plaza one more time, intending to pick out any other figures that looked combat-ready--when her gaze fell upon the royal palace directly east of where they stood.  [color=ec008c]"And we should check with the town clerk to see if quests are open yet.  When I checked earlier there weren't any, but now that we've been... [I]properly greeted[/I] I do believe we will find a request of some sort."[/color]

Alisea started walking that direction, trusting her comrades would follow suit.  Anything more they had to discuss, they could do it while traveling.  Standing around just meant more time wasted, and this was no time for wasting time.