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This is the first book. Each entry will be one chapter of this book. |
| The fall day afternoon was passing. The waves of the Eastern Ocean gently lapped against the docks, as a lone man walked along them towards the city of Windport. He was of human origin, with short black hair, deep green eyes, muscular build and held the look of wisdom of one well beyond his twenty-five passings in years. A shirt of steel chainmail worn over his tunic, as well as a mix of leather and chain over his breeches. A warhammer was strapped to his right side with a few pouches on the front of his belt. A medallion etched with a silver starburst and sword rising from the center, the symbol of The Justicar, was on his neck and the rest of his possessions in a backpack. The soles of his soft leather boots tread comfortably along the worn wood of the docks as he made his way into Windport itself. He carried a small rolled up parchment in his right hand as he approached a small gathering of local vendor’s stalls set up along one of the main roads leading into the center of town. Stopping off to the side, he unrolled and read it again: Dear Sir/Madam: I have need of explorers and adventurers to undertake a grand task for me. Please bring this letter to the Smithwest Merchant Guild in the city of Windport. I promise that your time will not be wasted, and should you accept my proposal, you will be well compensated. Sincerely, Avrim Smithwest Guildmaster, Smithwest Merchant Guild "Well, my superiors always said I should get out and see the world", he mused to himself, as he purchased a piece of fruit from one of the vendors and asked for directions to the Smithwest Guild. It was then that Crevecour Innsworthy, follower of Markson Justicar, began a journey that would soon change his life and the lives of those that he was about to meet. Those that he would call his friends, his companions, but most importantly, his fellow riders. A short time later Crevecour arrived at the Smithwest Guildhouse. A wooden sign with a painted sailing vessel pointing West hung over the entrance, swaying gently against the early evening breeze. He knocked on the door and was met by a servant who quickly ushered him inside after Crevecour showed him the parchment, which was also stamped with the same symbol as the sign after Smithwest’s name. The follower of the Justicar was then led to a meeting hall in the center of the building, where three human women and one male dwarf were sitting around a table. Crevecour walked towards the table and introduced himself. “Greetings. I am Crevecour Innsworthy of the Order of the Justicar.” The dwarf immediately rose, his heavy armor of scale and leather clinking off his chair as he almost bolted to his feet. A large, imposing double bladed axe was leaning on the table next to him. His hair and beard were a reddish-brown mix and equally long. His stout features and muscular tone reflecting his heritage. “Well met. I am Farim Ironbeard of the Saber Hills, Warclan.” he stated, almost smiling as he clasped his fist to the left side of his chest and slightly bowed as he completed his greeting, “Our people have had good relations with your Order in the past. I’m glad that they have sent one of their own for this task.” Crevecour nodded his head back in respect to the dwarf. “But I’m also not the only one here.” Farim continued, waving a hand towards the others assembled in the room. Almost on cure, a rather tall, raven-haired young woman stood. A curved sword rested at her side, while her humble traveling cloak was pulled aside enough for it to be pulled from its scabbard if needed. She was donned in a mix of cloth and leather breeches and armored tunic, with the symbol of Elkorrina Worldspirit, Patroness of Nature, etched in the center. “I am Aurora Stormwind of the Northern Circle.” her blue eyes met his during her greeting, with a faint glimmer of uncertainty. She then recovered and briefly smiled at him, whatever concern she had passing on. She then silently sat back down and took a drink from her mug. Crevecour knew a little of the practices of the various Circles around Newhome, but what his superiors did emphasize to him was to make friends with them if you could and to not dismiss them or their power; They deserved respect. Another female approached Crevecour as Aurora sat down. She wore the clothes of a simple traveler and had no apparent arms or armor on her as she presented her hand to him in greeting. “I am Josephine, The Mysterious.” she said, tossing her short red hair back a bit as he shook her hand. Crevecour felt a small surge of power coming from her handshake as she smiled at his response as their hands clasped, “I’m a performer by trade, but a weaver of magic by nature, in case you were curious.” Josephine finished, half winking at him. Crevecour noticed some movement out of the corner of his eye, and then saw a black cat stride out from under the table. The cat then proceeded to stretch himself out among what he assumed was the rest of her gear, a backpack, crossbow, and other bags were gathered against the corner. “Why don’t you take off your pack and relax awhile Crevecour?” Josephine asked, almost leading him over to the corner, “And don’t mind Merlyn, he’s harmless.” She continued, scratching his head as they passed. He removed his backpack, placing it with the others. It was then he noticed the last of their assembled group. She did not move from her seat but was definitely glaring at him. “That’s Morgan.” Josephine half-whispered, “she doesn’t say much.” Morgan was seated at the table, her arms crossed over very solid leather armor. Her hair was blonde, and short-cropped around her face. A cloak was draped over the chair behind her, freeing up the sword to be released in an instant if needed. Her legs were pressed underneath the table almost casually, but Crevecour noticed the way they were positioned. They were in a relaxed position but could quickly be used to propel her to her feet or push away from the table. Either way, the blade would be in her hand and cutting down her foe as she moved. "Moving quickly to a fight or away from one, keeping your weapon ready at all times." Crevecour remembered from his training from the Order, as some were trained by the Elves. This was one of their blade fighting techniques. “I heard you.” Morgan growled; her green eyes intently locked on Josephine. “Sorry about that.” Josephine nervously cleared her throat and weakly smiled back, trying and failing to recover. “Why don’t we sit back down?” Crevecour offered, as they moved back to the table, making sure he was between them. He then walked towards Morgan, offering his hand in greeting. Morgan’s eyes followed him every step of the way as he approached. “Hello Morgan, I’m honored to meet you.” Morgan merely nodded at him in both recognition and dismissal of him. He then turned and sat down at an open chair between Aurora and Josephine. “So does anyone know what this grand undertaking of Guildmaster Smithwest’s is?” Farim asked, taking a bite out of a small loaf of bread. “No.” Aurora replied. “All I know from what his servant told me is there are supposed to be six of us gathered here, then Smithwest is going to meet us and explain everything.” “So, who is this sixth person?” Josephine asked. “Does anyone know?” “Since all of us are strangers to each other, this sixth member will probably be unknown to us as well.” Aurora answered. “Makes sense.” Josephine shrugged. “So I guess we relax until our final guest arrives.” She poured herself a cup of hot tea and looked at Crevecour. “So how long have you been a follower of your order?” “A few years. I was formerly part of the militia in my hometown of Southport. I joined the temple after I finished my obligation to the militia.” “Interesting.” She said after sipping her tea, “why go from the militia into the Order?” “Let’s just say it was a personal calling.” Crevecour smiled, leaning back in his chair, taking a large bite out of an apple. The door then opened behind them, as their final companion strode in. He was a tall human male, with the look of a woodsman. He had shoulder-length blonde hair that was surprisingly well-groomed despite his initial appearance. He pulled off his traveling cloak in one graceful motion, draping it over a chair next to Aurora as he came in. He was donned in leather armor with a thin rapier at his side, and dagger on the other in his belt, both ready to be drawn. He then placed his own pack, hunting bow and quiver of arrows among the other equipment in the corner of the meeting hall. He then turned to the group and introduced himself. “I am Ian Markhand, former scout of the Windport militia.” “Aurora Stormwind.” Aurora said, extending her hand, which Ian gently took and shook in return. He did the same with Josephine, but formally bowing before Crevecour and Farim, even greeting Farim in his own native tongue, which earned him a hearty laugh of approval from the Dwarf. His attempt at diplomacy with Morgan failed to gather any success, as she nodded at him the same way she greeted Crevecour. “At least you’re not alone in this.” Josephine whispered at Crevecour, smiling. Morgan didn’t turn to glare at her this time. “Sorry about my arriving at this late time, but I had some business to complete in town first.” Ian said, sitting down and smiling gratefully at the refreshment being offered to him by Smithwest’s servant, “what have I missed?” “Nothing really.” Farim replied, “we’re still waiting for the arrival of Smithwest, but as you can see, we’re being well taken care of in the meantime.” He finished, hefting his mug and saluting Ian. “I see.” Ian replied, taking his own mug, “then I propose a toast for luck. To our travels and adventures together, wherever they may lead us.” The rest soon followed suit, and to his surprise, Crevecour even noticed Morgan raising her mug to the toast. Glancing briefly to Josephine, she just slightly shrugged, and sipped from her own mug. Her tea surrendered to her feline companion, who was content in lapping up the rest of the tea from the saucer placed near where he was previously napping. A few minutes later, Avrim Smithwest, Guildmaster and author of their letters, entered the meeting hall. He was an older, middle-aged man, his dark brown hair and beard betraying some signs of gray, as well as a budding paunch of a stomach, but his eyes were still full of vigor and promise. “Greetings my guests. I’m pleased you’ve all accepted my invitation.” He half-stated, half-announced. He moved with an air of aristocracy as he made his way to the head of the table and seated himself, still smiling, “I hope my servants have satisfied your refreshment needs, so we may now get to the business at hand.” He then motioned over his shoulder, as a few of his servants came forward, carefully clearing a space in the center of the table and unrolling a map of the Eastern Lands of Newhome, their current homeland. “As you all know, some of these lands have only been settled for the past few centuries, the result of our ancestors being forced to flee here from our former home at the hands of The Ravager and his followers. We have been successful in settling most of the lands on the eastern part of Newhome, from the Duchys of Tiderian, Kem, Straum and even the Blacktalon Barony.” He pointed to each established country on the map as he spoke, “but all of our progress has carried us only so far.” He paused and pointed at a long river located on the western part of the map. “The Borderlands River marks the furthest progression our peoples have made up to this point. Beyond the river lies the unknown. With exploration, great discoveries and dangers will come to those who would undertake it, which brings me to my proposal; I would like to train each of you as Cartographers, with the eventual goal of mapping the lands beyond the Borderlands River. This would not only help in establishing new trade routes and territories to be settled, but would be a beneficial font of knowledge for all of the established countries here.” “Not to mention profitable.” Ian interrupted, half-smirking. “Yes, I am not going to deceive you on that point. The successful mapping of these unknown areas would be very profitable.” Smithwest answered, not breaking his tone, "that is why I am willing to supply you with the training time and equipment needed to carry out this task. Yes, it will require time for you to learn what you need for the expedition, but it will be time well-spent. You will all be paid a sizeable sum at the end of each year in service to this task as well as any rights of claim for any treasures that you find during the course of your journey. My requirement is you hand over all maps made while you are under my service.” “So this will be multiple one-year journeys out and returning to you?” Crevecour asked. “Yes, for as long as you wish to continue to do so.” Smithwest replied, “if you no longer wish to work for me, simply return with what you have, I will compensate you for your time, and we will part ways. We all stand to gain from this arrangement, which is why there is no need for deception from me.” He paused, taking a sip from his own mug, “my reputation is solid here in Windport. I have never cheated a client or employee and have no intention of it now. I am a very wealthy man already, and I can afford to take both this expense and risk." Smithwest finished. He then took a step back, and raised his mug in saluting the assembled. "So, what say you?" He boldly asked, with a smile on his face. Farim laughed with a deep basso tone. “I like it! I accept!!” “As do I.” Ian smiled back. “I also accept your offer.” Aurora gently replied. “What do you think?” Josephine asked Crevecour. “I have heard about this guild, and he does have a good reputation. I think his offer is a real one.” He replied. “Well, I can’t make a living being a traveling entertainer forever, I think I’ll do it.” Josephine started, then looked at Smithwest. “I’m in.” She then looked back at Crevecour. “So, what are you waiting for?” Josephine asked, smirking at him. “I accept your offer.” Crevecour replied, trying not to shake his head and smile back at Josephine. “And you, Morgan?” Smithwest asked, now looking a little concerned. Morgan paused, glanced around the table and then looked back at Smithwest. “Very well.” Smithwest beamed. “Excellent! Then we shall begin your training in the morning. In the meantime, enjoy the hospitality of my Guildhouse and Windport. You will be shown your quarters upstairs whenever you wish.” He then raised his mug to them. “To our future!!” He proudly stated. Then each of them, Farim, Ian, Aurora, Josephine, Crevecour, and Morgan all raised their mugs in succession. “To our future!!” They returned, as one. |
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