"Welcome to the Mercenaries of the Sun!" The five of you are gathered in a small office of sorts, in the Dragon Point branch of the mercenaries of the sun. A sprightly old gnome sits behind a desk in front of you, one finger twirling his handlebar mustache. The room is filled with papers, archives of old assignments, you'd assume. A pair of shortswords are hanging on the wall, well polished and ready for use. "I'm pleased to have you on board. Now, you five will be one of our many parties we dispatch to take care of the problems brought to us by the populace. My name is Sergeant Lanver Rasbar, but you may call me sir." He paused, before sliding a piece of paper across the desk towards the party. "Now, I know this is somewhat sudden, but I already have your first assignment. There's been this group of bandits ravaging trade about a day's walk from here. The reward isn't too much, but a sizeable sum nonetheless. Any questions?" He cocked an eyebrow, ready for anything you might throw at him.
Main port town in the Southwestern region of Eoatha. A variety of people pass through here regularly, whether they are high-ranking nobles or lowly sailors. The town is ruled over by Lady Velacelle, whose family controlled several towns in the area in the past, but is now reduced to Dragon Point.
Flintfold Fortress: 1 day (Boat)/2.5 days (on foot)
Bronze Pine Village: 2 days (on foot)
Mercenaries of the Sun: A fairly well-respected group of mercenaries that will charge low prices for services that are done well. As I said, very respectable.
"Yes. Just one Lanver. Where in the Nine Hells am I? One moment I was just south of Arkmunster, and now I'm in this strange place."
Yaktar looks suspiciously at the gnome, wondering why he had appeared just outside this office. Why had he appeared in a building? Why couldn't he have appeared in a nice field somwhere and retire? Life just isn't fair.
Sergeant Rasbar blinked suddenly. He wasn't ready for this kind of indignance. Collecting himself, he replied, "Well, my dear kobold friend, I'd say that you're in Dragon Point, the southwestern port town in Eoatha. I have no clue where this 'Arkmunster' of yours is located. I thought you came in with the rest of them? Of course, I'd still be very pleased to have you join our company, Mr... What is your name?" Rasbar was ready to fill out an application and approve it, quill already in hand.
Makria's tail twitched a bit as her face bent in confusion. "I've never hear of this 'Ark-monster' either..." At the very least, the kobold's sentence suggested that it was some sort of place rather than a foul beast of supposedly immense power, and the tiefling was willing to accept holes in her mental map as side-effects of her semi-pious youth. The fact that Sir Rasbar (a.k.a., Sergeant Shorty) had no clue what the reptilian was talking about either did make her feel a bit better about herself, however. "The Nine Hells are a bit on the extreme side of invocations, you know." She turned back to Mr. Lanver and waited for the chance to ask her own, less cryptic, question.
"Of course you haven't. It is a small village on another world, that much I know. What I want to know is where I am now, because I just appeared just outside this room. Given that I'm stuck here, I may as well help out, and I can only assume that money makes the world go round, around here? My name is Yaktar."
Yaktar is somewhat surprised that the tiefling, of all people, is discomforted by the minor curse. He gives her a strange look before turning back to Lanver.
Sergeant Rasbar beamed at hearing Yaktar's statement. "Yes! Of course. If you'll just sign here, you can join up with the Mercenaries of the Sun. We'll be able to supply a steady stream of jobs for you, as well as provide discounted lodging, and of course, our good name. And we have a number of branches that provide a variety of services for our members." The gnome proffered the paper out towards Yaktar, ready to be signed and approved by Rasbar himself.
Salthes looks around at everyone then at Ren and gives her an uncomfortable look. He then turns his gaze to the Sergeant,
"Sso, Mr. Rassbar was it? I come under the pretensse that working with the Mercenariess of the Ssun would get me access to the greater magical librariess of the realm. Would I be correct in thiss or have i had a missunderssstanding? Alsso What ssort of pay are we talking about here?"
He then takes out his spellbook and turns to the back pages where some notes have been taken down and begins to write more into it.
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"Go then, there are other worlds than these." -Stephen King, The Gunslinger
Ren had been taking this all pretty well for the most part. She was here now and was being offered a simple job dealing with bandits for gold. Simple as simple can get. She gives Salthes a curt nod before turning back towards the Sergeant.
"Sir, I wish to know more about these bandits. A rough estimate of their numbers would help greatly."
Standing no more than 1,40 m (4'5" ft) tall but with a wide girth indicating that a there is a well compacted body in that height. Ivar Ironhide have a light skin tone with hazel hair and full beard, both which are braided and clasped with a thick metal ring and crystal set in the center of each, marking him as a Crytal Mines a dwarven keep closer to Eoatha. He has a war pick on his right hip, a shield in his back and two hand axes crossed below it, he also is dressed in a chain mail armor with a clasp where his right clavicle meets his right shoulder which bears the symbol of a broken bone over a tree stump. On the opposite side he bares the insignia of the Mercenaries of the Sun since he already joined the company a while back when he left Eoatha, about a month ago when he had accompanied his mother to the capital as a representative of the Crystal Mines.
Looking around at this group he was joining, he could only smile a bit thinking that the world is really big for a Tiefling, a Kobold and a Yun-ti are in the same room as him, a Gnome and a Human.
Looking to the human and then to the Sarg. he says: Sir., the human got a point, what we know about this bandits? Numbers, gear and whatnot. Not that it will hold me back, meself been wanting some action since joined back at Eoatha and there were only a couple of orc knees to break in the track here a month ago! Oh! So the rest of ya don' call me "the dwarf", me name is Ivar Ironhide, of the Shieldbearer Clan from the Crystal Mines, but yall can call me Ivar for shorts! Bwahahaha
Sergeant Rasbar set down the paper he had prepared for Yaktar, and lifted the assignment sheet from his desk once more. "Everything is detailed out here. To answer the questions you've asked, their numbers range anywhere from 7 to 24. It's hard to say. Eyewitness accounts are few, and they generally are the ones escaping the smaller raiding parties, but the merchant who came to us described enough men to overtake a good sized trading caravan. They appear to be equipped with a variety of weapons, some makeshift, and some well-made swords. Your pay is around 250 GP each. Anything else?" The gnome's hand returned to absent-mindedly twirling his mustache.
"Seven to twenty four..." Ren made a sour face and crossed her arms. She knew she had asked for a rough estimate but...she was hoping for a smaller gap between numbers. She was happy that, at the very least, the Dwarf names Ivar was as serious about this as she was. He was at least asking questions relating to their target. She turned to Ivar after his introduction. "A pleasure to meet you Ivar. I am called Ren Windrivver."
As she spoke, she edged her way towards the table and lightly placed a hand on the assignment sheet the Sergeant was holding. "May I?" She asked as she lightly tugged on the paper. "It may be best to have it for reference." With her free hand she simply waves for Salthes to go on ahead.
Giving Ren a full bearded smile, Ivar says: Pleasure is mine Ren! 250 gold pieces is a good pay, well enough for a bit of ale at least - Bwahahahaha - and Yaktar, one piece of gold is one piece of gold, with a few you buy ale with a lot you buy whatever you'd like! So lets get moving troupe! Oh! Ren, check our assignment sheet to see the modus operandi of the bandits, there might be a way to bait them into attacking us.
Said that, Ivar salutes Rasbar and moves to leave the room.
Makaria contemplated the information she had been given. If there were only seven offenders, then 250gp was pretty solid pay. But if there was a full 24... then each brigand didn't really have that high a price on their head at all. 'Wait, I'm thinking this through all wrong,' she chided herself. 'I'm not doing this alone, and all of us are getting 250 each! This is actually a really good deal!'
With that squared away in her mind, the tiefling turned her thoughts to her new allies. The human was being pretty polite, and seemed to know the serpentine creature, who... was very to-the-point. The dwarf, an apparent alumnus of the guild, seemed to be a very jovial fellow, unlike the rest of his kind Makaria had met before. 'Hopefully his boisterous laughter won't give are position away during infiltration,' she complained internally. Still, he was bound to be great company in other situations, so she didn't begrudge him too much.
She kept her distance as she followed the kobold (and the dwarf, by consequence) out of the office. His tale was peculiar, but as much so as how calmly Sargent Shorty took in and signed him up anyway. Had the little reptilian used some form of magic on the gnome, or... was their benefactor just that gullible? She shrugged an looked around the guildhouse. It certainly seemed like the Mercenaries of the Sun had the gold pool needed to shell out 750gp on a 'minor mission'... "May this bounty fall with ease," she mumbled to herself in Infernal.
Salthes walked through the town slightly annoyed for no real reason.
'Mercenary work is such an annoyance, but i guess it must be done if I wish to have money to eat and continue my research.'He thought as he picked through the markets, gathering anything he thought might be useful.
After his stroll through the towns market he heads towards the city gate. Showing up before everyone else, he sits nearby and studies the book in which describes known dragons and what the authors knew of them and waits for the others to arrive.
(OOC: 2 vials of Acid for 50gp, 10ft pole(collapsible?) for 5cp, 5 sheets of paper for 1gp. Grand Total= 51gp 5cp)
Watching Salthes start walking toward the shops and vendors, Ivar had to ask: Hey, mister Ren's friend, you didn't give us your name and I don't think it will be funny be calling you "hey" "you" and whatnot! Bwahaahhaahhaa
When he left, Ivar said to the others: So, I don't have any spending money to go with, well, him, so I will just going to stop at Fonkin "Badger" Daergel' tools and get me a woodcarver's kit and then go to the gate. Who's with me? Or with, him? We need to meet at the gates quickly 'cause there're some knees needing breaking! Bwahahahaha
When he starts going to the vendor, he turns to Yaktar: So, other world? That's how your peoples call cities or something? I might have passed this Armund on the way here.