B11 – KING’S FESTIVAL
1 FELMONT AC 1005
The Tale of Dan
I’ve been sitting at that table for half an hour and perhaps because of all the mayhem and the ruckus that was in the “Hungry Hin” I was unable to figure out that odd situation. We were, without a doubt, the weirdest and most curious table in the whole tavern. I could pass completely unnoticed mingling with the other traladarans, I’m used to it, but not so the tall and huge brute screaming “Thyatian!” with every gesture and word and, in addition, a member of the Karameikan Church…
Even if he was the last one to join us, he took initiative and spoke like his duty was to fill every stretch of silence with the sound of his voice. Gods, he must really be in love with the sound of his voice! Me? I love silence, “Few words, few troubles” say the Specularum scum.
For my own sanity I immediately rose a shield between myself and his words, studying the other three that joined us at the table. When I came in the tavern and they accompanied me to our reserved table, it was occupied already by Vaeris, a mysterious stranger. He told he hailed from Wendar, a so far away territory in the north, I didn’t even know the name. He had travelled from the city of Selenica, a town of the Republic where he lived and worked as a scout for years.
He was the strangest of my four new associates and some traits of his face hinted to a non-human ancestor. The young girl, the only traladaran apart for me, had simply told that her name was Marjana and that she came from the Moor. After this she entrenched in a tight silence, a good thing for a woman, and an unmistakable sign of her discomfort and uneasiness in this chaos and racket, a real countrywoman. Lastly, Adrik Fireforge was the standard Highforge Dwarf: big booming voice over the room noises and a huge love for food and above that beer, a drink he was apparently able to gulp down for half an hour without a single break.
From the chattering and innuendos it became clear that everyone of us did receive the same letter, with different words, requesting our gathering today in this very tavern. They were signed by different names, but a quick recount of our stories made clear enough that our friend was one and the same. He had crossed our lifes bringing help and support, giving us a different name, but formed by the same letters.
Then, suddenly, a kid appeared. A man had ordered him to bring us a letter and a little package. Before we could ask him nothing more: he vanished in the tavern turmoil, leaving no trace for even the ones of us, used to these things. Adrik was the quickest to open the package while Marjana read the letter to the whole table. It was a warning to an impending disaster in the near future, affecting our entire world, some event capable of completely robbing the magic from the world. Only together we would be able to prevent this. Rheddrian, the signer of the letter, told us to wait for his imminent arrival. Meanwhile in the package we found an item, that Adrik was keeping in his swift and cured fingers, so strange for a dwarf. It was a metal disc, few centimeters large, reflecting as the purest and perfect mirror in the whole world.