The day was like any other, a simple routine. Wake up and brush off the residue from the drunken night before and crawl back to the tavern as soon as it was running again. At least this particular day was with small fortune. His attire was not covered in mud or dirt. He had awoken on a lay bed next to a wench. "May the gods smile upon me this morning." He barely got out before stretching and retrieving his few belongings before leaving.
He had to get back on schedule and from the ache in his head he knew that he was in need of some good ale. He stumbled into a dull tavern with two patrons not including himself sitting at the bar. He found a seat near the end and waved over the barkeep for his first drink of the day. He paid no attention the man to his right who was staring at the banner of a cross shield on his right shoulder. The other patron pointed it out and the two began conversing. "I would not advice that, I have not had my morning ale and it would not be well for the both of you if you were to attack me now." The stranger said before taking a sip from his mug, his blade clinging at his side. The two conspirers looked at each other puzzled and wondered how he was apply to hear them whisper before high tailing it out of the bar.
It must have been something supernatural or fate. As the two were high tailing it out of the tavern a note was tossed up from the scuttle and landed on his lap. He raised it so his dark eyes could read it before he was interrupted.
"Ye also want to apply, bud?" the innkeeper shrugs as he laughs in your face. His wooden eye rolls blankly, followed by his good eye scrutinizing your very soul. "So, scrub, what's your name?"
"The name...Is Ian Silvermane." He wasn't sure why he told the stranger his name, one that would bring suspicion but there was no one left in the tavern. Ian took another sip before the innkeeper bursted out.
"Hah! What a name for a scrub!" the innkeeper grasps his beer-belly in a fit of chuckles. "A'right, a'right. How old are you then? Still, you don't look like a mage to me."
"Thats because you are an innkeeper, you are suppose to keep my cup filled but I have just turned twenty eight this past month." He answered before finishing his cup and asking for another. the barkeep poured him another and spoke again.
"You don't look that young." the innkeeper narrows his vision on you. "Meh. I've seen worse. Anyway, you must be a mage, right? What's your power majingy then?"
Ian was beginning to be annoyed. "What is with all these pestering questions!?" He asked in a fury. "My power did nothing to help anyone but benefit myself in combat or treachery. Ian felt almost embarrassed if there were other people in the empty tavern. He apologized before giving him an explanation about his powers or more of his abilities. Ian could conjure the power of the wind either to make his movements faster or to hear the small whispers even miles away.
"Oooooohhhh, scaryyy." the innkeeper spoke in a tone so sarcastic that he could be the king of sarcasm at any moment. "You think your power is enough to keep you alive? Hah! The last time that Darain asked for an elite squad, none came back alive. Although, Darain still lives-- the mission was accomplished still. But, the reward stayed with Darain since... well, dead people don't need no gold."
Ian took all the information in without saying a word. Maybe death is the only way to atone he thought before taking another deep gulp of ale. "A noble thing to do...to steer into death like that."
"Yeah, yeah. Just talk to my left hand...." the innkeeper extends his left hand to you. "'Cus yer decision ain't RIGHT! HAHAHAHAHAHA!" the burly man rolls on the floor in extreme fits of laughter. After a good minute of laughing, the innkeeper stands up and sighs in glee. "Whatever. Here, take the ad, and go to that hill but you may have missed them. Good luck, scrub."
Ian paid his tab and nodded as he made his way out of the tavern. The sun beamed down at him as if this change of course was ordained by the gods but he did not dwindle in such ideologies. He knew he had to catch up so he paid for a horse and some extra ale to accompany him on his journey with the rest of his gold. He had and began his journey to the meeting hill to find that they did not stay in wait. He sighed and closed his eyes as the wind began to whistle by his ears. He stayed in complete silence before he heard a shriek of a large beast being slain towards the direction of the Salome forest. He kicked his horse as it shot off into a full run before he shouted "Ride like the wind!" It would not take long for him to catch up with the group now.
It was no longer than an hour he had caught up to the group. They had seemed to plant base there for...rest? Ian thought before leaping down from his horse and taking his belongings off. He turned around and gave a polite wave before hitting the butt of the horse to see it run off into the wild. "Looks like I was late." He announced before sitting near them and taking out a small pouch of ale and taking a deep gulp. "Names Ian, want any?" He finished asking before stretching out the pouch to the group.
(would this do?)
