[center][h1]Whiteside Village[/h1] [h3]Bertram's Lodge[/h3] [@drewccapp][@Spanner][@Rune_Alchemist][@GrafRoy Zeppeli] [/center] [hr] [color=a0410d][b]"Oh, yeah."[/b][/color] The man turned on his heel, redirecting himself to the counter and speaking to the man behind it. [color=a0410d][b]"Guess I haven't paid for the time I've been here. How much do I owe you, old man?"[/b][/color] [b]"110 Kriel payable in stamped silver or gold coin. We don't exchange foreign currency here, so don't bother."[/b] Bertram never once looked up from his ledger and continue scrawling notes, numbers, and names into its margins. His voice was gruff, deep and sounded as if someone had raked gravel across his throat. [b]"The guild may accept deferrals of debt provided you have a sealed letter from a reputable sponsor; however, be warned, if your sponsor does not pay, [i]you[/i] will be the one with the bounty on your head, [i]not[/i] your sponsor."[/b] Once his handwriting reached the bottom of the page, he used a piece of twine to mark the page, and closed it gently. Bertram eyed Vyrmain casually, determining his actual worth, but his lips pressed tight and was ultimately unimpressed. [b]"So 110 Kriel then?"[/b] He said at last, implying Vyrmain obviously had no wealthy sponsor to pay his dues. [hr] [quote][color=fff200]"Aha, a bit of both, I think."[/color] She replied warmly, a sharp contrast to Vyrmain. [color=fff200]"Simply put, we aren't...exactly from around here, and have been traveling for quite some time and do need a place to lodge."[/color] ... [color=fff200]"As for the adventurer's lodge...we ran into a man on our way in who told us of some problems you may be having with some troublesome Fey. We might be able to help with that."[/color][/quote] Mahon's bushy brows knitted together in surprise. [b]"Oh? You must have met with Rath..."[/b] He cleared his throat before continuing. [b]"The official listing hasn't been posted yet, but yes we are looking for folks to help subjugate the evil spirits and Fey along the mountain trails."[/b] He looked over his shoulder at one of the haggard-faced men nursing a tankard of ale. "[b]Was it last week or the week before?"[/b] Mahon's voice boomed. [b]"Both"[/b] the man replied in between sips. [b]"There you have it."[/b] The giant said indifferently.[b] "Two deaths in an as many weeks. At this rate, we won't have a town left in a few months." [/b]He laughed dryly, but his smile was grim and held not an ounce of happiness. [b]"We haven't officially posted anything yet, but the reward has already been approved by the main branch. In fact, if you'll take the mission, we can offer you lodging free of charge. However..."[/b] Mahon's eyes flashed between each of the newcomers in turn. [b]"None of you have adventurer plates. If you're adventurer's, why have you not registered with the Guild? The mission is only open to Silver rank Adventurer's or higher. We can't have a bunch of new recruits run out there and get themselves killed."[/b] [hr] [center][h1]Faithful of Tesarion[/h1] [@hivekiller][/center] Lethe's silence was a stark contrast to her usual exuberance. She was awestruck by Lord Kalduk's sudden declaration. Behind the vacant look in her eyes, her mind was racing. [i]"We exist only to serve the Lords of the Tesarion... How can our worth be infinite, sacred even? I had prepared myself to die for him, yet..."[/i] Her chest tightened. A potent mix of relief, disappointment, and hope rampaged through like a sweet poison. She didn't know how to react, paralyzed by her own feelings. She desperately wanted to prove herself useful to Lord Kalduk, and the others no doubt shared in her thinking. It was strange to think that a Lord of Tesarion didn't require blood sacrifices to maintain power and protect the people. But if Lord Kalduk was so powerful that he merely required their belief, she could not refute it. Who would reject the words of a god? As the faithful reorganized into a small caravan and prepared to leave, Lethe pulled an ornately carved horn from her belt and brought it to her lips. The horn's clarion call bellowed through ruins and echo strangely as if from a great distance. The intense sound shook the air. The fog twisted and swirled until a thick layer of mist parted and condense into an enormous archway. Beyond it, the hazy vision of lantern-lit tunnel appeared. Lethe turned to Lord Kalduk, and held out the horn. "[b]As you'll recall, this was made from the horn of Lord Thrain, the Red Martyr. It still holds some of his power even now, and its bearer is invested with the responsibility to lead the faithful."[/b] Her voice carried an unwavering conviction. [b]"It is rightfully yours, Lord Kalduk. Please take it."[/b]