Silverymoon, Gem of the North, was the largest city within the Silver Marches. A place of peace, learning and enlightenment, many people would come here to rest and get away from he trials of life. Though a large city in its own right, unlike other places such as Suzail and Waterdeep, Silverymoon had a much more laid back atmosphere. The streets curved gently and flowed along with the buildings, but what was likely the most impressive sight were the trees that grew up within the city itself. Where other major cities that were little more than stone and mortar and tore a place out of nature to exist, Silvermoon was more in harmony with its surroundings. Many of the trees shaded the cobblestone streets and walkways as the stone and wood buildings stretched out in a causal manner. The chatter was low and cordial and everything about the city welcomed travelers to their gates. One of those people was an man by the name of Kaizer Dragos, human by race he was a swordsman of enough skill to have lived by his blade for over three decades and still be around to tell the tale. Recently however that nearly came to a violent end. While coming back from an outing he had parted ways with the group who helped him loot some old ruins and en route to Silverymoon he was set upon by a group of marauding orcs. While a skilled swordsman and by no means afraid of orcs, Kaizer also wasn't stupid and trying to take on almost twenty of them by himself, with what sounded like more on the way, would have been a fool's errand. Yet the whole affair got bloody none the less. This group of orcs apparently had some firing brain cells and managed to rout him straight into an ambush despite attempts to avoid it. At first things seemed grim as Kaizer began to hack and slash his way through over a dozen of his attackers. Steel clashed against steel as battle cries from the fighting and screams from the wounded rose up all around. When it seemed like he might be overwhelmed the warrior was fortunate enough to make a battlefield ally in the form of an elven woman that was also besieged by the orcish warriors. Kaizer fought his way to the woman, they exchanged brief nods and went back to killing orcs. After carving their way through the growing horde they managed to make it to their horses. After a brief exchange where they agreed to meet up in Silverymoon at the Bright Blade Brandished tavern, if for no other reason than to exchange thanks, and rode off in separate directions. The idea was to make the orcs split up and lessen their numbers if they wanted to continue the pursuit. For a time it did continue with an arrow bouncing off the back plate of Kaizer's plate armor no less. As he closed in on the region of the Silver Marches where patrols were regular the orcs finally gave up the chase. The one thing that made Kaizer curious about the whole situation was why they were so intent on chasing him down. A group that size was likely a fairly nasty raiding party, so why would they be after a single person with such fervor, he wasn't visibly carrying anything of value aside from his weapons and armor. In truth that was about all he had as well, the last outing to loot the ruins turned out to be a bust for the most part. The group had made enough money for about a week of decent living but that was it, far less than any of them were hoping for. Approaching the walled gates of the city Kaizer was still in a foul mood over everything. Instead of riding straight into town he stopped looking down at one of the two gate guards. The man appeared to be young, in his early twenties, dressed in a chain mail hauberk, a blue tabard bearing the crest of Silverymoon with plain brown cloth pants, leather boots and a steel half-helm on his head. There was also a spear in hand and a short sword sheathed at his side. “Guardsman, I just had a rather nasty run in with a large group of orcs. You might want to let your superiors know before they cause any serious trouble,” Kaizer said. “An orc party you say?” the guardsman said, walking up to Kaizer's horse. “Aye,” Kaizer said, twisting in his saddle to point south. “About six or seven hours ride. Several dozen at a guess. I barely escaped with my skin intact.” “Thank you for the information sir, I'll pass it along post haste,” the guardsman said. With a nod Kaizer continued on. The roads twisted so gently that the city possessed a flowing feeling, like that of a river and with everything growing inside it seemed more like a garden to some. That was one of the reasons Kaizer was so fond of this place. The Bright Blade was a modest alehouse located in Northbank on Sunset Lane. Riding through the city Kaizer exchanged pleasant nods with a few people along the way and watched as the city went about its daily business. There were people in the market place haggling over prices, the occasional sound of a merchant calling out the values of his wares and the almost rhythmic rapping of a blacksmith's hammer somewhere in the distance. As the tavern drew closer Kaizer could hear the sound of people inside, the place was livelier than usual. It wasn't like the Dancing Goat that always seemed like a party in progress though, even the 'lively' days were tempered by most patron’s good manners. Riding atop a draft horse, which was built for endurance rather than speed, Kaizer brought Taeg to a stop and tied him off at the hitching post out front. After stroking his mane a few times the tavern doors were the next stop. Right now the smell of food was beckoning and the light grumble issuing from Kaizer's stomach reminded him of a breakfast not eaten. The tavern had a very rustic feel to it that put patrons at ease and even sported curtained booths for those that preferred their privacy. There were a number of tables and chairs set about the room, most of them occupied as light, indistinct chatter carried on. There were farmers, tradesmen, merchants and even the odd adventurer who seemed to be in no hurry to do anything. All Kaizer was interested in was a hot meal, a cold mug of ale and getting out of his armor. Walking up to the bar he unfastened a gauntlet and set three silver on the counter as the tavern keeper walked up. Middle aged with a shaved head the man was portly, with an age lined but friendly face. Dressed in plain clothing the only distinguishing thing about him was a large bushy mustache. “G'day to ya Kaizer, glad to have you back. Travels treatin' ya well?” the man said. “Glad to be back Greggory. I've had better, a room with a bath please,” Kaizer said. “Right away,” Greggory said. Taking the silver he walked away only to return a moment later with a brass key that had a small three stamped into it. The stairs leading up to the second floor were against the far right wall and Kaizer disappeared up there for close to an hour to enjoy a hot bath. Upon his return the armor, locked inside the room, was replaced by a pair of black leather pants with matching belt, boots and a red cloth vest with an open front. Taking a seat at one of the few empty tables he motioned to the serving girls, who disliked being called wench here, and ordered a bowl of beef stew, two pieces of bread with butter, a side of bacon, some mutton and a cold mug of ale. The food and drink were brought about fifteen minutes later and while Kaizer dug in he thought about the elven woman he'd met earlier. If she did decide to show up he wouldn't be hard to find, then again a man sporting black hair flecked with gray and a bright red vest wasn't exactly hard to pick out of a crowd.