Chapter Text
The bustling market square of Swanfort was abuzz with the murmur of a lively town.
The vendors lining the street at each side yelled their prices, dangled their wares from wooden stalls and talked in a fast, cheerful manner to all who would stop a moment and inquire.
A harried mother pulled her child along and away from the tempting sight of caramel apples while a group of young men tried to haggle down the price for leather pouches.
Heated in the rays of an afternoon sun, there was a certain peace in this mercantile town, a routine and lazy daze that came with summer…
“MY TURNIPS!!!” the angry voice was accompanied by the unmistakable sounds of wood splintering.
Heavy footfalls, clanking of metal and yells of indignation echoed through the square, bringing chaos in its wake.
“Pardon me, coming through!” The large fellow that came barreling from a side alley and right through the vegetable carts posed quite an intimidating figure.
Standing a head above all the rest might have already made him stand out, but add to that the green tint of his skin, the slightly protruding lower canines and pointed ears and people were bound to take a second and third glance when he passed by.
“You just had to start that bar fight!” Following in the giant’s wake, came a woman that climbed, side stepped, jumped and generally meandered through the crowd in a much more graceful manner than her bulldozing companion.
The shield strapped to her arm glinted silver details in the sun. Lifted slightly over her head, she used it to parry flying turnips and tomatoes while hiding her from prying eyes.
“They ruined my Seafood Special! Justice had to be served!” The green half-orc said, because yes, to the knowing eyes the man indeed seemed to carry the clear characteristics of his orc ancestry but of a shorter stature and less burly build inherited from his human side.
Running alongside these two warriors was a fey creature the size of a ten-year-old child, pink of hair and pointy eared; she carried a large backpack and multiple gadgets hanging from her overalls. Easily slipping among confused citizens and ducking under stalls, scattering small metal cubes in her wake.
“How are you still surprised he got defensive over his fancy food! He’s worse about that than Jazz is with his lute cords.” the pink haired fey mentioned with a laugh as she nimbly caught up to her longer legged companions.
“Speaking of… where is Jazz?” At the shield maiden’s inquiry, the three companions slowed down to frantically scan the surrounding area.
Over the frantic commotion of the crowd the crystal-clear chords of a lute could be heard, familiar like an old call to battle for the trio of companions that had stopped their mad rush in the middle of the street.
“Hah! Jazz has the right idea!” The half-orc announced with gusto, “Enough running!” and turned towards the area where more and more of their cloaked pursuers were arriving.
His roaring charge garnered the desired attention and three of the city guards turned and rushed at him.
The pink haired fey smiled at this new turn of events. “Perfect, I’ve been meaning to test my new toys,” and pressed a button on the device strapped to her wrist.
Small blasts of color and sparks ignited from the scattered cubes, distracting their opponents as the half-orc barreled through them.
“Woohoo! Another successful experiment to add to my collection!” the pink haired fey jumped with glee. “Well Journey, aren’t you joining the fun?”
“Ohh for the love of all that is holy! Fine, let’s do this the hard way!” The shield bearing woman closed her eyes, tilting her head to the sky, took a deep breath and exhaled a whispered prayer.
As her eyes opened, the once green irises were lost in the glowing white light that seemed to burn from within. The metal spiked head of her mace sparked with electricity as she charged into the growing chaos.
One Hour Earlier
The T’avern Inn was full during lunch hour. Local patrons and wealthy travelers frequented this up-and-coming establishment famed for its Elven culinary specialties.
At a table in the corner an eclectic group of four were ostentatiously trying to flag down a waiter.
“What does a guy have to do to get some service around here?” The half-orc of the group complained.
His blond human companion raised a brow at this. “Actually wear a shirt next time? Just a suggestion.”
With a toothy grin that showed his protruding lower fangs, the half-orc shrugged his wide, bare shoulders. “The ladies never complain about it.” And winked at the brown-haired woman beside him.
Said woman tugged a loose strand of hair behind her elongated ear and rolled her eyes at the half-orc’s antics in a vain attempt to hide a blooming smile. “Why did we come to such a fancy Inn, Grim’Dur? Doesn’t seem like your type of place.”
“That’s classist, my dear Journey! Just because I’m a barbarian does not mean I don’t enjoy fine dining! This place has the best Elven cuisine in the county, and their crème brûlée is to kill for!” The green skinned man said while flipping through the menu.
“Can we afford it though? We haven’t had a proper paying quest for almost a month?” Their blonde companion chimed in after taking a look at their menu. “Also, everything here is in Elvish!!”
“Chill Jazz, I’ll help you translate what you don’t understand.” The pink haired gnome finally looked up from her menu to reassure her friend.
“That would be everything, Pyxis! You and Journey are the only ones who speak snob!”
Just as he finished saying that a handsome elf in black waiter’s garb came to take their order.
“Bonjour et bienvenue! Je serai votre serveur aujourd'hui. Êtes-vous prêt à commander?”
The server looked a bit disdainfully at the rag tag group seated at his designated table! Of course it would be him that gets the group of… adventurers. He almost shuddered at the thought as his eyes examined the pink haired girl in overalls with weird gadgets all around her, the half-elf woman in leather and scale armor that leaned her shield against the wall and the big brute of a half-orc which forgot to put on half his clothes! No doubt a boorish barbarian. At least the blonde human seemed stylish and smelled nice. Rather rakish looking too… he’d wager this one was a bard!
“Je vais vous prendre un hamburger et frites s’il vous plait! Et un verre de cidre.” The half-elf lady ordered. He’d expected her to know at least some basic form of Elven… but you could never be sure with half-elves.
“Pour moi, ça sera le poulet aux épices avec son dôme de riz, un milkshake au chocolat et… que me recommanderiez-vous en guise de dessert?”
“Such a language flex, Pyx!” Journey laughed and switched to common to tease her pink haired friend.
“La spécialité de la maison est la Crème brûlée, mademoiselle.” The waiter answered after looking surprised at the diminutive lady. The gnomes are fey in origin, of course she’d speak the language so well.
“Et bien, je vais vous prendre le crème brûlée. Merci!”
Jazz rolled his eyes at Grim’dur in search of solidarity at this Elven prolific table, only to see his friend smirking and waiting expectantly for the waiter to turn to him, hint of calculated mischief in his eyes.
Grim’dur’s posture became formal and expression haughty as the waiter turned his mocking gaze to him.
“Je prendrais le plateau Spécial fruits de mer, accompagné d’un verre de blanc de votre suggestion… et une Crème brûlée également!” his pronunciation was flawless and the cadence of his speech was similar to what you’d hear in the courts of the High-Elven capital.
For a few moments there was silence, even Pyxis and Journey were blinking in wonder at their polyglot friend.
Writing down the order, their waiter cleared his throat and turned to the last remaining patron.
“Et vous, Monsieur?”
With a deep sigh and a c’est la vie! expression of his face, Jazz turned his gaze back to the menu.
“Je... J’aimerais... merde, c’est quoi le mot... chicken? What the hell, I’ll just have what she’s having.” Pointing towards his pink haired companion, Jazz finished ordering in common with a devil may care smile on his face.
“Désirez-vous autre chose?” The waiter asked looking towards the half-orc at the table, smiling politely.
“Ça sera tout pour l’instant, je vous remercie.”
“Bien, je vous apporte votre commande dans un instant” As the waiter left, the table erupted into questions.
“Mate! What the actual fuck! I was expecting solidarity from your corner and you turn around and talk like you just downed a polyglot potion!!!... Were you hiding one in your backpack?”
“Oh, cause it’s that difficult to believe I’d speak Elven?”
“Not just Elven, you spoke High Elven as if you were raised in the Tourissil capital!” Pyxis added in an impressed voice. “And Journey was accusing me of flexing my language skills,” she playfully stuck her tongue out at the aforementioned woman.
“Who are you?!?!” Jazz threw his hands in the air. “Journey, do a Detect Good and Evil spell on this guy, I think our friend has been kidnapped and replaced with a fiend!”
“In which case I would be speaking Infernal, not Elven!” Grim’dur smugly added.
“I’d be more impressed if he also spoke Sylvan.” Journey smiled at the bickering pair.
“Quia vos, quicquam.” (for you, anything)
Pyxis laughed and clapped her hands. “Excellent!”
“What did he say?” Journey curiously turned to her pink haired friend, who gave her a mischievous smile.
“You’ll have to find out on your own!”
“For the uninitiated in your little Elven fan club… care to explain how all these languages are different?” Jazz enquired of his companions as he folded his arms.
“Sylvan is the language spoken in the Fey Wild realm… what the ancestors of all fey creatures spoke before crossing over into this human realm many, many millennia ago! It’s the precursor of the modern-day Elven languages and Gnomish.” Pyxis explained with a flourish. “It isn’t often spoken in this world anymore… mostly you find it in writing, kept alive by scholars of lore.”
Journey tapped her chin as she started explaining as well. “The Elven language has different dialects spoken by the different subraces of Elves. The Wood Elves for example live mostly in secluded forests and make their homes in tree tops. Our manner of speaking has slowed down to match the steady, peaceful heartbeat of nature. We elongate our vowels and pause between ideas and we never rush our speech.”
“There are plenty of jokes about how long it takes a Wood Elf to finish a sentence!” Pyxis directed a grin at Journey.
“High elves, on the other hand,” Grim’dur picked up the tale before the girls could derail the topic, “Are urban creatures that built large cities of power and wealth. Unlike their provincial cousins, high elves use a lot of flourish in their language and speak with a faster tempo and clipped vowels.”
“So how did you learn it, Grim?” Jazz asks his friend curiously.
“From my mother, she was a half-elf from the high-elven communities in the capital.”
“Wait, aren’t you already half-orc?”
“I’m half-orc on my father’s side… quarter human and quarter high elf from my mother’s side. Those of unimaginative minds would call me a mutt.” He said this with a laugh, but Journey noticed the strains at the corner of his lips to maintain the smile.
Luckily just then their order arrived.
“You’ve been talking about how great the food is here for weeks now… hope you were not exaggerating with how high the prices are!”
Grim’dur folded the pristine napkin over his lap. “Are all clerics as stingy as you, Journey? Enjoy the fine dining and atmosphere, 'cause I for one have had enough of hard cheese and too salty beef jerky road rations.”
“But can we afford it without going hungry for the foreseeable future?”
“Am I or am I not the keeper of coin in this group? Trust your treasurer more.”
“Whose bright idea was it to give the loot keeping to the mathematically impaired barbarian?” Pyxis added with a laugh.
“Hey, what’s with these discriminatory jokes… barbarians know how to count just fine.” Grim’dur raised up three fingers to make his point and grinned at them. “One, two, many. See, easy as pie.“ His companions were not amused.
Jazz patted him on the shoulder. “Sorry mate, tough crowd tonight.”
And speaking of crowds, right at that moment the door to the ‘T’avern’ tavern was thrown open and a group of armed men walked in. The City Guard were gathered in full force and walking purposefully towards the adventurers’ table.
“Greetings gentlemen… May we be of help to you?” Jazz spoke as he stood up.
From the corner of his eye he noticed Journey discreetly push her chair back and closer to the shield resting on the wall behind her while Pyxis toyed with the clasps of her leather pouch.
The captain of the guard stepped forward as the others formed a human wall barring the path towards the exit.
“Hate to interrupt your lunch, but we’d like you all to accompany us to the guardhouse.”
“Whatever for? We’ve done nothing wrong!” Jazz spoke for the group.
“Breaking and entering into the Mayor’s house, stealing jewelry… are these not considered crimes where you travelers hail from?”
Journey stood up so fast the chair she’d occupied clattered to the floor. “Is there any proof for these accusations you bring?”
“Your blonde companion has been spotted leaving the Mayor’s house not long after midnight. Sneaking around and making himself look quite suspicious.”
“Ah… there is a chance I may have been there around that time, but I assure you my purpose was not for the Mayor’s jewelry.”
“We’ll decide that after trial, till then you and your accomplices must accompany us.”
Grim’dur, who had continued sitting there blissfully and enjoying his Seafood feast decided to intervene. “Gentlemen, there is no reason to rush this, we’ll accompany you and clear all this up AFTER we finish our meal. Why don’t you take a break, order something for yourself… it’s on me.”
The captain got red in the face, hands clenched into fists. “You think you can bribe us? Such insolence! Get up now!” and slapped Grim’dur’s plate off the table and into his lap.
A collective gasp could be heard from all his companions as they knew there was no more room for negotiations now. The white of Grim’s eyes flooded red and the veins on his neck and arms were pulsing with suppressed fury… the barbarian was peaking full rage.
Jazz picked up his lute and jumped atop the table. He took a moment to survey the scene around him.
Journey strapped the shield to her arm, mace ready in the other hand just as Pyxis signaled her for a boost. Using the shield as a launching pad she jumped and grappled onto one of the lower hanging beams, from where she could have a better vantage point for her spells.
Grim’dur just picked up a chair and smashed it into the captain’s face.
And then all hell broke loose!
Present moment
Journey felt the electric current coursing down her arm and charging into the spiked mace. Four guards were blocking her path to reaching Jazz and Grim. She hit the closest to her with the shield and used that momentum to pivot on one foot in a graceful arch that brought her mace smashing into another guard. The charged weapon electrified the man and sent stunning currents into the other two opponents.
With all four guards knocked prone and hopefully still alive (if a bit singed) she finally reached her companions.
Grim’Dur stood just ten feet from her, swinging his great axe and sending the men around him flying.
She reached him and covered his blind spot, “I’m on your six!” A warning is always advised when partnering with an enraged barbarian.
“I saw the electric show, knew you weren’t far!” He grabbed a man by his throat and threw him in the air. Trying to subdue your enemy while still keeping them alive was slowing them down. If this were a fight to kill situation, they would have cut their way across easily. Plus, there were still many civilians running around.
She spotted Jazz sparring with a guard on the ledge of a water fountain. Rapier in one hand, he waved his other hand in the air towards a man approaching from the left. The metal of the man’s armor started glowing red hot and he fell to his knees screaming and trying to rip his armor off.
On the buildings lining the square archers were climbing to the roofs… they couldn’t stay here long.
Journey casted a protective shield around her and Grim’Dur. “We must get to Jazz and then move out of here.”
“Where is Pyxis?” just as he asked that a beam of energy shot past them, hitting one of the guards. “Never mind.” Laughing, Grim forged a path towards Jazz and the pink haired fey at his side.
Pyxis had a black, mechanical cat with her that was shooting rays of energy out of its mouth. “Perfect timing you two! Loona and the cubes will distract them while we make a run for it… again. Follow me and don’t fall behind! Ready?”
Her three companions nodded and she tapped on the device at her wrist. All at once explosions and fireworks ignited in the square and the mechanical cat continued shooting rays from its mouth. Under the cover of this chaos Pyxis led them into an alley and down a sewage hole.
Once they all climbed in, Grim pulled the metal cover back in place just as Jazz lit up his rapier with a touch of his fingers and a chanted poem. Pyxis brought out one of her energy powered lanterns and they could now see in the pitch darkness.
The sounds from outside were muffled down here and they finally had a moment of respite.
“Is everyone alright? Should I pray over any wounds or broken bones?” Journey asked as she looked over her companions, but they all seemed to be worse for wear, a few bruises and scratches at most.
“You can pray over my broken heart… those bastards ruined a perfectly planned lunch!”
“Well, if Grim can joke about it I guess he’ll be fine.” Journey moved on to check on Pyxis over the offended, “Hey, who’s joking!?”.
“That was insane, why were they so many?… it felt like an army was sent after us.” Jazz said while inspecting their surroundings.
The sewage tunnel had sturdy arched walls and paved floor keeping the muck and human waste at bay in an embanked artificial river.
“That’s because it wasn’t just the city guard after you.” A soft voice sounded from down the dark tunnel, putting them all on the alert again.
“Who said that?!?” Jazz raised his lit rapier to both illuminate his path and take a defensive stance.
From the shadows a cloaked figure stepped into the ring of light, stopping just at the edge so that her face was still hidden in the darkness cast by her hooded robe.
“You’ve stirred quite a commotion today and attracted the attention of more than just the city guard.” The feminine voice sounded exasperated and tired. “Luckily I’m here to take a burden off your hands.”
“Do you have anything to do with this? Did you get us involved in all of this?” Grim came up beside his friend in case the person meant to attack.
“Oh, I wish you’d all have stayed out of it,” The hooded woman hissed with reproach in her voice, “But your amorous friend here took something important with him last night…”
“Wait, how do you know about last night?!”
As Jazz said this the woman stepped fully into the light and removed the hood from her head revealing a sharp, beautiful face with skin red as a hot pepper and silky hair of a dark purple color. Small curved horns starting right behind her bangs decorated her head and her piercing golden eyes almost glowed in the artificial light.
Fifteen hours earlier
Just as the Tower bell struck midnight in the city of Swanfort, a shadowy figure leapt from rooftop to rooftop under the cover of darkness.
Climbing down to the open balcony of a stately house, the figure crouched down and listened carefully for any movement.
Taking a thin pick from her belt pouch she fiddled with the lock of the door until it gave a mechanical click of victory.
Stealthy as a cat, the shadow slinked into the dark chamber and closed the door behind her. Scanning the room with eyes immune to the cloaking of darkness she stepped on padded soles towards the desk.
Quiet and efficient, she went through the documents in file cabinets and the working desk, cursing softly as more time passed with no fruition.
Leaving the office, she moved down the corridor towards the master bedroom to continue the search. Hand on the doorknob the cloaked figure stopped short as sounds of moaning could be heard from within.
“This can’t be right” The cloaked woman whispered to herself. “Mayor Halaman shouldn’t be home!”
What the thief did not know was that the Mayor’s wife took ill during the day with a terrible headache and wasn’t able to accompany her husband to the charity gala. Thankfully, the remedy for her ailment appeared not long after her husband’s departure in the form of a handsome man she met recently in the market square.
Stepping back from the door the cloaked figure continued searching in the other rooms, waiting for an opportunity to enter the main suite, knowing her efforts were in vain and the one sure place left to search was inconveniently occupied at the moment.
The silence of the night was disturbed by the clatter of horse hooves as a carriage arrived home a lot earlier than expected. Climbing out the window of a top floor chamber, the woman’s nimble moves easily brought her on the roof.
She remained there to survey the situation. Just as the angry husband entered through the main door, a blonde man dressed in an oversized coat was pushed out the back and into an alley.
A few streets down a group of three were waiting for him.
Narrowing her eyes suspiciously she decided to follow them.
Present moment
“So you see, your presence there hindered me greatly!” She finished telling the story to her audience.
“At first I thought you were some random man at the wrong place and time… but why would a clandestine lover have his posse waiting for him outside the house all that time?”
“Hey! We like to cheer our boy on when he gets lucky, who are you to judge!” Grim’dur said as he patted a scowling Jazz on the back.
The red skinned tiefling raised an elegant eyebrow. “Please don’t insult my intelligence… you would be better off with me as an ally.” Her low voice left the unspoken message hanging in the air… that they would be even worse off with her as an enemy.
“An ally to what exactly? What is it that you think we have as a common goal?” Jazz countered this challenge.
“There could be only one reason for which the Mayor put the entire town militia on your tail… you took the letters. You probably already looked over them and saw that it’s basically impossible to read, am I right?
Pyxis had been in charge of decoding and after a sleepless night she fell exhausted into slumber in the early dawn with no result to show for it. This was a sore point for her.
“And I suppose you will give us the means to decode it if we meet certain conditions?” The usually bubbly fey answered tersely.
“Everything comes at a price, but lucky for you my fee is reasonable.”
The tiefling paused for dramatic effect.
“I want to join your party for this mission.”