Our story begins in the year 831 PD, Post Divergence. On the lush and verdant continent of Tal’Dorei, it is a time of peace and prosperity. On the Bladeshimmer Shoreline which stretches across the western coast of the continent, the Tal’Dorei Republic continues its work to recover from the Chroma Crisis, an assault by an allegiance of four ancient dragons that had desolated much of the land years earlier. On that same shoreline, the city of Emon rests on the coast of the Ozmit Sea and serves as the capital city of the Republic.

To the northeast, the city-state of Whitestone rests in a narrow valley in Alabaster Sierras, a quiet and peaceful snow-covered mountain range. Ruled by the De Rolo family from the fortress Whitestone Castle which sits on a hilltop overlooking the city, Whitestone bustles with travel and trade. Caravans from all across the lands commonly travel along the road from Emon.

And on that road, roughly midway between Emon and Whitestone, lies the vast city of Westruun. Built on the Dividing Plains, near the base of the mountain Gatshadow and along the edge of the Bramblewood Forest, Westruun is a key port of call for the many caravans and traders crossing the continent. The city itself is split into five distinct wards, and it is here in the Residential Ward on the northwestern side of the city, that our story begins.

It begins early in the morning on a weekday. Which day in particular doesn’t really matter all that much. The sounds of hustle and bustle, of business and trade, of forging and smelting begin to fill the air as people move about the town to go about their day. And these sounds soon filter into the upstairs window of the Sunkissed Tavern, causing Donovan Mistgrey to wake with a grumble.

“Shit…” the young half-elven man groaned, sitting up in bed in the modest room he had rented the night before. He ran his hands through his long, lanky black hair and sighed. It had been such a long week and he was exhausted, but even here he couldn’t sleep. It seemed he rarely got a good night’s sleep these days, although he knew there were good reasons for that. Still, there was only so long one could go without proper rest. He had hoped once he had lost himself within a city as large as Westruun, he would feel comfortable. It had not happened.

Donovan sighed once again and stood, shaking his head. He rubbed sleep from his green eyes and set about tugging on his leather armor and boots. He slipped a pair of daggers into their sheaths at his sides and clipped a necklace with an emblem of an upturned crescent moon that was strung like an archer’s bow around his neck. Still grumbling irritably, he shoved open his door and made his way downstairs to find breakfast before setting out for the day.

Meanwhile, in a room across the hall, another figure was just beginning to awaken. In great contrast to Donovan, the sounds of the day and the warm sunlight streaming through her window brought a smile to Selene’s little gnomish face. She rushed to the window to look outside, her shoulder length red hair billowing behind her. She threw open the window, her wide brown eyes gleaming as she took in the view of the busy cobblestone street below. She stood there for a few moments, basking in the warm golden glow of the early morning sun before closing her eyes and clasping her fingers around the medallion of a golden, eight pointed star that hung around her neck.

“Thank you, Dawn Father,” she said, whispering a simply prayer to her deity, Pelor. It was another beautiful day in Exandria, and Selene was very thankful to be there to see it. It was going to be a great day. Excited, she donned her plate armor and secured her mace and shield. She would have breakfast and then perhaps head over to the Temple Ward for the afternoon to see how she could help the people of Westruun. Slinging her travel bag over her shoulder, she rushed to the door and headed downstairs, relishing the wondrous smells of breakfast cooking below.

Most people in the packed tavern paid no attention to the little gnomish woman bounding down the stairs, but Urik certainly noticed. Then again, the half-orc barbarian tended to notice a lot of things. His yellowish eyes kept a constant lookout, even in a place of rest such as this. Not that he particularly needed to worry here. It was unlikely he would be harassed in this place. While much of human civilization in Tal’Dorei were prejudiced against half-orcs, Urik’s mere presence was often enough to encourage such individuals to keep their opinions to themselves.

Urik was large, even for a half-orc. His green skin was marked here and there with heavy scars from the countless battles in his time. His expression was tight and clearly sent a message to anyone who might approach. That message was, quite simply, fuck off. The gigantic war hammer sitting head down on the floor next to him served as a solid hint to anyone who didn’t get the aforementioned message.

His traveling companion, however, shared no such sentiments. The beautiful, red skinned tiefling woman sat with her legs up on the bench, sipping from a mug of ale as she listened to the upbeat music being played by a group of traveling bards across the room. Her jet back hair fell in loose ringlets to her mid back, while a pair of dark horns wrapped from her temples towards the back of her head.

Having finished his own breakfast, Urik slowly reached across the table to stealthily nab a biscuit from the tiefling’s plate. Without turning to look, the tiefling smacked his hand with her tail and laughed.

“No, no,” she said, in her rather lilting voice. “I don’t think so, Urik. Get your own.”

“I already ate mine, Penelope,” Urik grumbled, his voice even deeper than usual. “And ow!” He added, rubbing his hand.

“Oh please, that didn’t hurt,” she replied, turning at last to look at him. “I’ve seen you take a real hit. Remember that tournament in Vasselheim last year? I thought that maul was going to crush your head in.”

“Eh, wasn’t too bad,” Urik replied, shaking his head. “Besides, that was fun! There was money on the line, Penelope.”

“Yeah, money you lost,” Penelope shot back. “And stop calling me Penelope. We’ve been traveling together for three years and you damn well know my name is Pen.”

“Fine,” Urik grumbled. “Moody fucking warlock…” He was saved, gracefully, from Pen’s furious retort by the arrival of Selene at their table. She was holding a plate of breakfast meats and was looking at the empty seats around their table hopefully.

“I’m sorry,” she said lightly. “The tavern’s pretty full this morning. Would you mind if I…?” Pen and Urik shared a look before Pen nodded.

“Sure kid,” she said, nodding to one of the seats. “Have at it.”

“Oh, thank you!” Selene said happily, taking the offered seat. “I’m Selene, by the by. What are your names?”

“I’m Pen and this ugly brute’s called Urik,” Pen replied, smirking at Urik. “Don’t let his appearance or grumpy attitude fool you, he’s a big ole teddy bear.”  

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Selene. “I’ve only just gotten to Westruun, so I’m still finding my way around and trying to meet some of the locals. Although, you two don’t look like you’re from around here. Adventurers, eh?”

“Something like that,” said Pen. “We travel around; take odd jobs here and there. Whatever pays well, you know?”

“Sure, sure,” said Selene, taking a bite of a sausage. “I’m just trying to do what I can to help people out. Spread the word of Pelor and make the world a better place.”

“Hey Urik, were you ever that damn hopeful and determined?” Pen asked, glancing across the table toward her friend. Urik shook his head.

“You a follower of the Dawn Father, then?” He asked the gnomish girl, who nodded energetically.

“Oh yes,” she said quickly. “He’s the best! Not that all the other gods aren’t great too, but… you know.”

“Never been much into religion myself,” Pen said idly as Donovan eased past her, tankard of ale in hand. “Never seen a reason to worship gods that locked themselves away behind the Divine Gate and can’t do much of anything to help the folks here. Not a fan, personally.” She tensed suddenly, her tail wrapping around Donovan’s forearm as he reached for her coin purse on her belt. She drew a rapier from her side and in a flash had it pressed to Donovan’s neck.

“Can I help you, sir?” she asked sharply, pressing the blade in a little harder. Donovan held up his hands, a smile appearing on his face.

“Simple misunderstanding is all,” he said lightly. “Don’t want any trouble.”

“Then you messed with the wrong girl,” Urik grunted. “Pen’s nothing but trouble.”

“Fuck off, Urik,” Pen snapped. She turned back to Donovan. “If you didn’t want any trouble, then maybe you shouldn’t be trying to steal from folks, hmm?”

“Right,” Donovan said swiftly. “Right, you know, I think I’ve seen the error of my ways. If you’ll just release me, I’ll head right over to Bahamut’s Rest in the Temple Ward and confess my sins.”

“If you want to pray to a deity, Pelor is… better… I’ll stop talking now,” Selene said, breaking off when Pen gave her a sharp look.

“The way I see it, you’ve got two options here. Either we drag your ass out back and I let my big friend with the hammer here see how many swings it takes to break your arms. Or, we head over to Margrave’s Keep and let the local law enforcement handle you. I’m sure the Shields of the Plain have room in their prison for a miscreant like yourself.”

“Or,” a voice called out from behind them. “There’s a third option.” The group turned to see a human male in his mid thirties, studying them all very closely. He had bright blue eyes and slicked back short black hair. He was very finely dressed; far too finely to be in a place such as this. While the Sunkissed Tavern was nice enough, it was ultimately quite modest. The man smiled and sat down at their table. Pen turned her rapier toward him, still keeping her tail wrapped around Donovan’s arm.

“And who, pray tell, are you?” She asked, her golden eyes flashing dangerously. The man smiled.

“I? Who I am is not important, for I am just an… agent of another,” he said idly. “My name is Emil Von Brandt and I represent a particular individual within this city who is interested in hiring an adventuring troop to help with a rather dangerous, although very lucrative endeavor.”

“Who’s your patron?” Urik asked, eye gaze shifting between Donovan and Emil. “Like to know who’s offering the job beforehand.”

“And also, we’re not together,” said Pen. “The bubbly one just wandered up, and this one here…” She jerked Donovan’s arm painfully. “Is a thief.”

“A rogue,” said Urik, smiling slightly. “A master of tricks and stealth.” He nodded to Urik. “A fierce warrior, filled with rage and a thirst for battle. A healer, dedicated to protecting her allies and bringing hope and light to the world.” His gaze fell again on Pen. “And you… tiefling. You’re certainly something, aren’t you? A seeker of knowledge hidden in the shadows, of answers that…” At that moment, a raven fluttered through one of the open windows of the tavern and landed on Pen’s shoulder. She turned to glance at the bird before fixing her gaze back on Emil, who had paused mid-sentence.

“Or perhaps you’re something else entirely,” he finished, his eyes narrowing. “But nonetheless, the perfect makeup for an adventuring party and the exact sort of people my patron is interested in hiring.” When no one at the table responded, Emil stood. “Well, let’s say this then. Take the morning to think about it. If you decide you’re interested in taking on the job, come by Greystone Tower in the Scholar Ward this afternoon. My patron is the owner. The offer of employment will stand.” Emil gave a slight bow and strode away.

“I got a bad feeling about that guy,” said Selene quietly. Pen nodded.

“Yeah, I sort of did too. Which, honestly, makes me interested. What do you think, Urik?”

“It’s worth looking into, I guess,” he said, seemingly indifferent. “Like I said, kind of like to know who I’m working for before I agree to anything. By the way, you planning on squeezing that guy’s arm off or what?” Pen turned back to Donovan, who had remained silent since Emil’s appearance. Perhaps he had hoped they would all just forget about him.

“Right,” said Pen, her eyes narrowing. “You.”

“Look,” Donovan said quickly. “I’m sorry, okay? I know that wasn’t cool, but it’s what I do and it’s what I know. It… occasionally gets me into trouble, but that can be fun too.”

“Are you having fun right now?” Pen asked, her tail tightening around his arm.

“Not… especially, no,” he said with a grimace. “But it’s no harm, no foul right? I didn’t actually steal anything, so… let’s let bygones be bygones, huh?”

“If we’re going to talk to Emil about this job, we should try getting along,” Selene put in helpfully. “I mean, if we’re going on an adventure, we can’t be fighting each other along the way.”

“First of all, there’s no we,” said Pen, passing a bit of bread to the raven on her shoulder. The bird cawed appreciatively and took flight out of the window. “There’s Urik and me and then there’s the two of you. Selene, I’m sure you’re lovely, but you’re just a kid…”

“I’m a cleric of Pelor,” Selene cut in abruptly. “I know how to defend myself, and I’m not a kid. I’m nineteen!”

“And my hand no longer had any blood going to it,” Donovan interrupted. “Do you think you could…?” Pen sighed irritably, but her tail released and Donovan took a step back, rubbing his forearm.

“Thank you,” he said, sounding truly grateful. “And look, maybe the overly-excitably gnome has the right idea. I mean, sure this isn’t necessarily the most positive of meetings, but I’m always down for well paying work. Even the legal kind. It wouldn’t hurt to go see what this Emil character’s on about. If we’re not interested, we go our separate ways.”

“No harm, no foul eh?” Pen grumbled. Donovan smirked at her.

“Yeah, something like that,” the rogue replied. 

“We really could use the money, Pen,” said Urik pointedly. “I mean, caravan guard duty isn’t paying what it used to.”

“Fuck it, fine,” Pen snapped, standing to her feet. “Let’s go! Maybe we can catch up to Emil before we have to ask all over town trying to figure out where the hell Greystone Tower is.”

“Something tells me it’ll stand out,” Selene put in helpfully.

The group made their way out of the tavern and into the busy mid-morning street. There was no sign of Emil among the peasants and merchants and local workers moving through the city along the cobblestone roadway. Knowing that the Scholar Ward was to the west, the group set out in that direction, keeping a lookout for any signposts or towers that could be Greystone Tower.

A few blocks away from the Sunkissed Tavern, however, Donovan noticed something that caused him to pause. Huddled halfway down a rather dark alley, he just barely caught the outline of what looked to be a young woman. She had a long mane of somewhat messy and tangled dark brown hair. She wore tattered clothing that looked to have once been quite fine. She also appeared from what little Donovan could see, to be talking to herself. Indicating for the group to hold up, Donovan made his way over.

“Hey there,” he called out to her. “Are you okay?” Much to Donovan’s very great surprise, the woman screamed in shock and sent a bolt of bluish magical energy arcing past his head.

“Oh… oh, I’m so sorry!” The woman exclaimed, scrambling to her feet and clasping a hand to her mouth. “I’m so, so sorry. You scared me, is all. I wasn’t expecting anyone to come and talk to me. No one ever talks to me, I… I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, kiddo, I’m fine,” said Donovan, although his heart was racing. He had seen the effects of Witch Bolt before and didn’t ever desire to be on the receiving end of such a spell. “Quite the quick reflexes you’ve got there.”

“Yeah, I know… I’m sorry, I… I can’t always control it so good. Sometimes, if I’m scared the magic, it… it just sort of happens. You’re sure you’re okay?”

“I’m just fine, I swear,” Donovan insisted. As his pulse began to calm, he took a moment to get a better look at this strange girl. He would have mistaken her as a human except when she shifted slightly, he caught the pointed tip of a half-elven ear behind that mass of hair. She had the look of elegance and beauty gone to seed, having been worn down by life and the world. He also suspected that she was much younger than her weary appearance made her seem.

“So… what are you doing here?” Donovan asked her. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, I… I’m Candelaria,” the girl replied. “I… I live here. Well, at least for now. I’m hoping to get some help, you know, with this.” She held up her hand to indicate the magic she had just nearly hit him with. “I need to learn more about these powers and how to control them. Otherwise, I might hurt someone and I… I don’t want to do that. I’ve heard there’s a wizard that lives in the Scholar Ward that might be able to help… or at least point me in the right direction, but… well, that’s a super fancy place and the guards won’t let me in. I mean, look at me.”

“Well, actually my group and I are on our way to the Scholar Ward right now,” Donovan said. “We’ve got a job offer from some guy that lives in Greystone Tower. We’re on our way to find out more information.”

“Greystone Tower?!” Candelaria exclaimed, her brown eyes widening excitedly. “That’s where the wizard lives! Can I come with you?”

“Uh… yeah, sure,” said Donovan, not having the heart to refuse her. He hadn’t anticipated that they would share a destination and be meeting with the same person. She was quite strange and bringing her along probably wouldn’t paint them in the best light. And he certainly hadn’t expected the patron Emil wanted to introduce them to was a wizard. That was news, to be sure. “Sure, c’mon. Let’s go.” Candelaria smiled and took his hand, seeming much happier. “I’m Donovan, by the way.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Donovan,” Candelaria replied. Donovan led the girl back to the party, where Pen was staring at him with an irritated look on her face.

“We picking up strays now?” She asked pointedly. “Strays that try to kill you with magic, I might add.”

“Gang, this is Candelaria,” said Donovan, introducing his companion and ignoring Pen. “Candelaria, this is Selene, Urik, and Pen. Candelaria here is on her way to Greystone Tower as well.” He fixed his gaze on Pen. “To meet the wizard who lives there.”

“Right,” said Pen, glancing around at the rest of the troop as the news that they were off to see a wizard settled on them. Emil had neglected to mention that nugget of information, after all. “Well, I suppose we can walk over to the Scholar Ward together then. Do try not to electrocute any of us on the way, eh?”

“I’ll do my best,” said Candelaria, although she sounded worried.

And so the troop of four, now five, set off across the bustling city of Westruun toward the Scholar Ward. None of them could know that this chance meeting in a tavern would lead them on the adventure of a lifetime. And despite how the feel at the time, it would also forge the closest bonds of friendship that any of them had ever shared.  

2: Chapter Two: You Must Gather Your Party Before Venturing Forth

As the midmorning drew ever closer toward the afternoon, the band of adventurers made their way across the bustling city of Westruun towards the Scholar Ward. The hustle and bustle of the city was loud, raucous, and seemingly everywhere all at once. At times it was nearly deafening. And yet somehow, despite all the noise of life and the general thrum of this gargantuan city, the sound of Donovan and Pen bickering passionately could be heard quite clearly above the din.

“She lightning bolted you!” Pen hissed, her tail whipping dangerously through the air in a rage. “She could have killed you!”

“First of all, it was a witch bolt not a lightning bolt,” Donovan shot back heatedly. “Aren’t you a magic user? Learn the damn spells.”

“I’m not an arcane spellcaster, jackass,” Pen snapped, her eyes flashing. “Glowing bolts of energy all look the same to me and they’re all deadly. We don’t even know this girl! She’s obviously dangerous!”

“You don’t know that! Besides, we’re all going to the same place!” Donovan countered. “And anyway, if this guy we’re going to see is a wizard, maybe having an arcane spellcaster with us will help. Since, you know, you aren’t an arcane spellcaster and whatnot.”

“You a real piece of work, you mother…”

“I don’t think your friend likes me very much,” Candelaria whispered, leaning down to speak into Selene’s ear as they trailed along behind the bickering pair. Candelaria supposed she couldn’t truly blame the tiefling woman. After all, she knew all too well what damage trust could cause when carelessly placed.

“Pen? Well, we’re not exactly friends,” Selene replied somewhat sheepishly. “We actually just met today in the tavern back that way. This guy named Emil offered us a job with your wizard and we’re on our way to met with him. We’re more like business partners for now. And for the record, I’m not convinced quite yet that Pen actually likes anyone.”

“She does,” Urik said, speaking up from where he was walking a few paces behind them. “Don’t take anything Pen says too seriously Candelaria. Pen is… well, let’s just say she has history and a reason to mistrust strangers. It’s not you, kid.”

“Look Pen, she was alone and needed help!” Donovan shouted. “Besides, I get a good feeling from her. I don’t think she means us any harm.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you think!” Pen snapped. “You’re just…” Selene and Candelaria couldn’t help but grin slightly as Urik sighed heavily behind them.

“Would you two please shut the fuck up!” Urik shouted. If Pen and Donovan were loud, it was nothing compared to the deep, reverberating voice of the half-orc that stunned even the bickering pair into silence. “Now, we’re here on business. Pen, Donovan has a point. A magic user could be useful if we’re meeting with a wizard. I don’t think she’s a threat to any of us. Lay off.” He rounded on Donovan. “And you, kid. Be less of a self-righteous prick.” Without another word, Urik shoved his way past Pen and Donovan and continued on toward the Scholar Ward.

It seemed that outburst was enough to gain as least a ceasefire between the fiery tiefling and the heated half-elf. The party continued on their way in relative silence, reaching the edge of the Scholar Ward within a mere half hour’s travel.

The Scholar Ward itself was located on the northwestern corner of the city. The ward was home to the Cobalt Reserve, the single largest library in Tal’Dorei. Within its domed walls made of polished blue stone, the fortress-library held one of the vastest collections of knowledge anywhere in the world. One could also find, towering above the illustrious Westhall Academy, the looming white stone tower of the Yuminor Observatory, an arcane telescope that was used to study the constantly shifting movements of the heavens.

As the party entered the ward and much of the bustle of the Residential Ward fell away, they saw no immediate sign of the mysterious Greystone Tower. The group began to wander this way and that, looking for a signpost or perhaps glimpse a sight of the tower in the distance. Selene was able to spot the Observatory and thought perhaps that was it, but Pen was quick to correct her. Donovan tried to look up to spot any other looming spires in the sky, but accidentally glanced into the sun instead, temporarily blinding himself. As Donovan grimaced and rubbed his eyes, Pen called out victoriously.

“I think that must be it!” The party had just rounded a corner onto an as yet unexplored street near the center of the ward and there at the end, standing quite tall indeed, was a rather ominous spire that could only be Greystone Tower. Built from a strangely shimmering gray stone, the tower stood very tall indeed, easily five hundred feet or more. It was so tall in fact that it was rather strange that no one in the party had noticed it before. It should have been visible from miles away, and yet not one of them had seen it previously.

Cautiously, the group approached the tower which looked to be roughly one hundred feet in diameter. There were windows scattered here and there up the towering spire, but as the party approached and circled the tower it appeared there was no door.

“Um…” said Selene, glancing around at her compatriots. “There’s no door.”

“There has to be a door,” said Pen. “People get in there, obviously. So how…?”

“It might be magically cloaked. Magical folk do that sometimes,” Candelaria put in helpfully, drawing a glare from Pen.

“And what would you suggest we do about that?” Pen snapped.

“We could knock,” Donovan suggested, walking over and rapping his knuckles on the hard stone wall. He stepped back and waited. After a full twenty seconds passed, no one came to greet them. “Well… I’m stumped.” He grumbled.

While Pen and Urik did another lap around the tower, Donovan began calling out toward one of the many large windows, the lowest of which was roughly ten feet off the ground. Selene spotted a group of three passersby and hurried over with a friendly wave to ask about the tower. Candelaria, however, remained where she was. She gazed up at the tower and then toward Donovan. Maybe, just maybe, he had been onto something.

“You said we could just knock, right?” She called out to him.

“Well yeah, but I already tried that,” he replied, glancing over his shoulder at her. “It didn’t really work, so… Hello in there! We’re here about the job!” No one responded, although the handful of people passing by glanced curiously in his direction.

“True…” Candelaria said more to herself than to Donovan. “But… it’s a wizard’s tower, so maybe…” She twirled her fingers, stretching out a strand of magical energy between her hands. “Maybe we just knock!” She flicked her hands toward the tower and the arcane energy arced forward and struck the stone wall. A loud sound like a bell being rung reverberated all throughout the ward and it caused Pen and Urik to come rushing back around the side of the tower.

“What the hell did you do?” Pen said accusingly, glaring at Candelaria.

“Well, Donovan said we could try knocking and I know this spell that…” The sound of someone clearing their throat caused Candelaria to break off. She glanced back at the tower where a large double door had appeared, seemingly from nowhere, in the stone tower. The doors had been swung open and a man who looked to be in his sixties stood there watching them with his hands clasped behind his back. He had slicked back red hair with streaks of gray running through it and a matching mustache. He wore a very well tailored tunic and boots and was surveying the party through mistrustful eyes.

“May I help you?” He asked, his prim and proper voice making him seem even stuffier than he first appeared.

“Yes, hello there,” said Pen, turning toward the man before anyone else could speak. “We were sent here by a man named Emil Von Brandt. He claimed to work for the owner of Greystone Tower and that he would have work for us if we were interested. We came to get more information about the job. Are you the person we need to speak with?”

“I am Jekt, personal manservant to Realmseer Eskil Ryndarien. It is he you will wish to speak with.” said Jekt, pursing his lips. “Please, come inside and I will speak with him for you.”

Jekt stood back to allow the group to enter. As they entered, the party found themselves in a small circular study. The room itself was rather dark, lit primarily by a large fire burning in the ornate fireplace on the far side of the room. It was strange as there were no chimneys visible on the outside of the tower. In the center of the room sat a pair of sofas and a number of armchairs surrounding a small coffee table. A silver tea set was placed upon the table, the kettle of which drifted into the air on its own and poured each of them a cup of hot tea as they approached.

To the right were floor to ceiling bookcases, filled practically to bursting with books of every size. To the left the stone wall was blank save for a single arched doorway where a spiral staircase could be seen vanishing into the upper levels of the tower.

“Wait here,” Jekt said firmly. “I will speak to the master.” He turned abruptly and went through the arched door and up the staircase out of sight. Everyone took seats around the table save for Candelaria, who busied herself by walking slowly from bookcase to bookcase, reading the titles of each tome held there.

“Have any of you ever heard of Eskil Ryndarien?” Selene asked, glancing around at the others. Everyone shook their heads except Pen, who shrugged.

“I’ve heard the name, but I don’t know much about him,” she said. “He’s clearly a powerful mage to have a tower like this.”

“If he’s so powerful, why does he need a group of randoms like us to help him?” Donovan wondered, taking a sip of the tea that had been poured. He made a face and quickly put the cup back down on the table.

“Plenty of powerful people hire others to do difficult and dangerous things for them,” Candelaria said offhandedly, running her finger along the spine of a particularly thick book bound in black leather. “It’s one of the benefits of being powerful.”

“Well, I mean sure, but still… it just seems kind of strange, doesn’t it?” Donovan countered. “A powerful wizard hiring a group of complete strangers to work for him doesn’t make much sense. A well known group of adventurers sure, but us? We don’t even know each other.”

“I could be that he…” Urik began, but he trailed off as the sound of footsteps descending the staircase reached their ears. Moments later, Jekt returned accompanied by a human man who must have been in his late eighties or early nineties. He was bald on top, with thin tufts of gray hair on the sides. He wore thick glasses and quite regal purplish robes.

“Realmseer, these are the adventurers Emil has found for you,” Jekt said, gesturing around to the party.

“Ah yes,” said Eskil, tottering over to where the party sat and, with a slight gesture, conjured a much larger and more luxurious chair for himself. He sat down and looked around at them all. “So, you are the recruits my man Emil has found? I trust you are all experienced adventurers then?”

“Uh…” said Donovan quietly. 

“To be honest, Mr. Ryndarien,” Pen cut in hurriedly. “We aren’t entirely sure why we’re here. Emil approached us in the tavern we were staying at and after a brief conversation he suggested we come and meet with you. He said you would tell us more about this potential job and what we would be doing. He didn’t really give much indication about… well, anything.”

“That sounds like Emil,” Eskil said dryly. “He can be most… frustrating. I have instructed him to hire a dependable party of adventurers, not send people to me to conduct bloody interviews!”

“We’re sorry,” Urik said quickly. “We were just following his instructions since we are interested in the work. We don’t want to waste your time, but… well, we are adventurers and we would be interested in hearing more about the task you need handled.”

Eskil studied Urik very closely indeed. In fact, he seemed to glance quickly at each member of the party in turn, giving them a thorough once over.

“Have any of you perhaps heard of the Vestiges of Divergence?” Eskil asked abruptly.

“They… they’re artifacts of incredible power from the time of the Calamity; the war between the Prime Deities and the Betrayer Gods that brought about the end of the Age of Arcanum over eight hundred years ago,” Candelaria said shyly, having come over and joined the others on the sofas. She looked like she might faint when everyone in the room turned to look at her. “My… my dad told me about them.”

“Well, you are certainly correct Ms…”

“Candelaria, sir,” Candelaria replied. “Candelaria Ashbridge.”

“Ashbridge… Ashbridge… Not the Ank’Harel Ashbridges, surely?”

“The same, yes,” said Candelaria, her cheeks turning a shade of pink.

“Hmm…,” said Eskil thoughtfully. “Well, yes, you are correct. The Vestiges of Divergence are indeed extremely powerful artifacts from the Calamity. Over the eight centuries since the Calamity, many of these relics have become lost to time. I am very interested in collecting these artifacts… both in an effort to study them as well as to keep them out of the hands of individuals who should never possess such power.”

“That’s very interesting, but how does that involve us?” Donovan asked.

“My agent Emil is responsible for two things,” Eskil explained. “To find capable people to aid in our work and to collect any information possible on the rumored locations of these artifacts.”

“And let me guess,” Pen said knowingly. “You’ve found one.”

“We believe so. Rumors have come up from northeastern sections of the Parchwood Timberlands south of Whitestone. A group of hunters out of the town of Bin Fordune stumbled across an underground ruin. The group of five ventured inside… only one escaped. He was found by a search party a week later. He had seemingly gone mad, muttering of endless whispered and dark, twisted dreams.”

“And how do you know this has to do with a Vestige of Divergence?” Selene wondered. “Couldn’t this be dark magic or the like?”

“It certainly could,” Eskil agreed. “Which is why I need stout hearted adventurers to accompany Emil and the guide he is currently hiring to find out more. If there is no Vestige, you may simply leave and return to me here. If there is a Vestige, recover it and bring to me for study.”

“If there’s no Vestige, you don’t want us to vanquish whatever evil is causing this?” Selene asked, glancing uncertainly at her fellows.

“I am interested in Vestiges, child,” Eskil huffed, seemingly very annoyed at such a question. “Do what you will, but return to me with the news of what you discover and I will reward you with one thousand gold pieces each. I will double the reward if you recover the Vestige intact and bring it back to me.”

With the exception of Candelaria, every member of the ragtag group lit up at the mention of so much money. It was more than any of them had ever seen in their lives and they could earn it on a single job?

“What sort of dangers might we expect within these ruins?” Pen asked. “I think we’d all like to know what we might be up against before we agree to anything.”

“If I knew that I would hardly need the likes of you, would I?” Eskil retorted. “I’m hiring you to go find out what is in the ruins. I expect you’ll find all sorts of horrible things inside, so go prepared.”

“Right…” Pen grumbled, rolling her eyes at Urik who voiced another question.

“What about the Parchwood Timberlands themselves?” He asked. “What threats might we encounter there?”

“A question better asked of the guide Emil is currently hiring,” Eskil replied. “He’s a ranger… I believe his name is Barney. Or Barry… or… I really can’t remember. It starts with a ‘B’ though, I sure. He’ll be the one to help see you to the ruins.”

“And you say you want this relic to keep it out of the hands of people who shouldn’t have it?” Selene asked. Eskil nodded. “Well sir, we’ve only just met you. How do we know you’re not one of those people?” Eskil glared rather grimly at her.

“Children these days,” he huffed, irritated. “You question my motives? You are aware of my involvement in the fight against the Chroma Conclave, and later against the Whispered One; Vecna the Ascended himself! I was there, you know? Through it all, I say! When those four dragons swept across Tal’Dorei, I was instrumental in assisting in the efforts to eliminate them! So do not question my desire to remove these dangerous relics from the public. I am attempting to safeguard all of Tal’Dorei, all of Exandria from potential destruction.”

“I’m sure our friend Selene meant no disrespect,” said Urik. “But she does make a point. We’ve only just met you and you us. We don’t know anything about each other, so… how can we trust that you’re as upstanding as you appear to be and by that token, how do you know we won’t just run off with this Vestige and use it ourselves.”

“Because my skilled agent Emil will be there with Benjamin to prevent such rash actions,” Eskil said sagely. “And… if it would soothe your troubled souls, upon your return we can all meet within a Zone of Truth spell. You will be able to trouble me with questions about my integrity and magic will compel me to speak truth.

“I mean for a thousand gold a piece, do we really care what he does with it?” Donovan asked with a casual shrug.

“I care,” said Selene, but she did not press the matter further. Eskil seemed to be growing tired of their presence, because he stood abruptly to his feet.

“If you are not interested in the job, please leave. I have important matters to attend to.”

“We’re interested,” Pen said hurriedly, glancing quickly around at the other members of the group. I believe we’ll accept, yeah?” Everyone nodded, although Selene did so reluctantly. “And upon our return, we can see about that Zone of Truth business before we hand anything over. Sound fair?”

“If it will get you on your way then fine,” said Eskil. “You can find Emil by the stables near the eastern gate. Good luck, uh… does your adventuring group have a name?”

“Like I said, we all just met this morning,” said Pen. “We’re all just temporarily working together.”

“Right, right, well… good luck then,” Eskil muttered. “Jekt, please see them out.”

“Actually, Mr. Ryndarien,” Candelaria called out as the others stood to leave. “Could I speak with you privately? I have a question.” Eskil seemed incredibly inconvenienced by this request judging by the look on his aged face. However, he sat back down in his chair as the rest of the group followed Jekt out of the chamber.

“Well? What is it, girl?” Eskil pressed, clearly very irritated.

“I’m sorry to be a bother, I… I need help,” Candelaria said. She held up her left hand and let several arcs of purplish arcane energy to course between her fingers. “With this. I don’t know how to control these powers I have. I don’t even know where they came from. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but sometimes I can’t keep a grasp on all this magic inside me. I thought that since you’re such a powerful wizard, you would be able to help me learn to control it.” She peered up at Eskil hopefully, but the old wizard did not seem moved by her plight. He sighed heavily.

“Were you aware that I knew Anton Ashbridge?” Eskil asked. Candelaria blanched and shook her head.

“My father, he… he never mentioned you, no.” Eskil waved her off.

“I didn’t know him well, mind, but we had met a few times when I visited the Library of the Cobalt Soul in Ank’Harel. We shared a similar passion for these relics I am in search of.”

“I didn’t know…” Candelaria trailed off uncertainly. “That’s the reason I need to learn to control my powers. I can’t change them or get rid of them, so I need help to control them… before something else terrible happens.”

“I’m afraid I cannot help you,” said Eskil, shaking his head. “I do not have time nor the interest in taking an apprentice. However, should your group return successful… I could send you to an old friend in Emon. Perhaps she would be of greater assistance.”

“I would appreciate that very much!” Candelaria exclaimed, smiling happily. “Yes sir. That would be great.” It seemed that Eskil was no longer interested in entertaining his guests because he stood up and left the room without another word, huffing to himself as he tottered back up the stairs. Candelaria took one last look around the wizard’s tower before following in the path of the others.

She had not intended on joining this strange troop on their adventure, however given that Eskil’s help was contingent on their success it appeared she had no choice. She would have to go with them and pray could return with the Vestige in tow. Considering that most of what they did was argue, she wasn’t so sure of their chances. In fact, as she approached the group just outside the door of the tower, it appeared that they were bickering once again.

“I know a thousand gold is a lot of money, but we don’t know… anything,” Selene was saying. “What if this Eskil is like a dark wizard or a necromancer or something?”

“I don’t think he’s a bad guy,” said Pen, shaking her head. “Like I said, I’ve heard of him. I’m pretty sure he actually was involved with the Chroma Conclave and helped to stop Vecna. Besides, as much as I hate to agree with Donovan, he’s got a point. For a thousand gold, who cares what he does with it? “

“I care,” Selene snapped, glaring around at the others. “I’m not sure handing over a relic from the time when the gods walked Exandria to a stranger is a good idea.”

“The thing is, if we don’t go Eskil will just hire someone else to go in our place,” said Urik with a shrug. “Someone’s gonna get that thousand gold. Might as well be us, right?”

“Ugh… fine,” Selene snapped. She looked positively furious. “But I want to be completely confident that Eskil is trustworthy before we hand anything over to him.”

“You can never be completely sure of that,” said Candelaria quietly.

“We’ll be careful, okay?” said Pen. “But with money this good, we’d be fools to pass it up. And like Urik said, if not us it’ll be someone. Now, c’mon! The eastern gate is all the way back through the Residential Ward, and I don’t know about you all, but I need to do some shopping for supplies before we leave.”

And so the party made their way across the Scholar Ward and into the crowded, raucous streets of the Market Ward. If the Residential Ward was crowded, it was nothing compared to the Market Ward. There were shops of all sizes with doors flung open to welcome guests. Along the streets one could find carts and tents set up where merchants yelled out loudly as they hawked their wares.

No one actually likes a shopping mission no matter what they say, and the party of five was no different. They quickly bartered for a handful of healing potions at Gilmore’s Glorious Goods, a local magic shop. The exterior of the building was made up of deep blue and purple fabrics draped across the rather small and otherwise unassuming structure. The entryway had no door, but rather many beads and cloth drapes that were meant to be pushed aside upon entering. As they entered, the party found that the shop was magically enchanted to be significantly larger on the inside than it was on the outside. Incense and perfumes permeated the place, causing Donovan to develop a rather irritating headache.

A series of magically enchanted torches were mounted to the walls to provide lighting. All throughout the single story shop were tables bearing glass cases filled with all manner of magical items, and along the back wall stood a long wooden counter where adventuring gear could be found, such as belts, armor, weapons, and enchanted rings.

After managing to secure six regular healing potions for a sum of six hundred gold pieces, Urik purchased a selection of rations for the journey. Having traveled the roads around Tal’Dorei for years, he knew a ride to Whitestone would take about a day by road, so a trip to the northeastern Parchwood Forest would easily take two or more and so purchased rations accordingly.

In less than an hour, the party had completed their shopping and trekked back to the Residential Ward through the city center; the Opal Ward. Upon reaching the eastern gate, they quickly spotted the local stables and made their way over. They were just approaching the door to the main building when it flew open and a tall human man with a thick black beard and black hair tied into heavy braids stalked out. He worn light traveling leathers and carried a crossbow over one shoulder.

“I’m tellin’ ya, I ain’t going to no damnable haunted ruin in the middle of the Parchwood for anything less than two thousand gold,” he was shouting at the man behind him, which turned out to be a very flustered looking Emil. “I’ve seen what lives in the Parchwood and it ain’t worth it. I know what kind of money the Realmseer has access to. If the crotchety old fuck wants my services, he’ll pay up!”

“’Crotchety old fuck’, now why didn’t I think of that?” Pen asked, grinning at Urik. The half-orc shook his head wearily. The man who was arguing with Emil rounded on the party when Pen spoke.

“And who the hell are you lot?” He demanded, looking at each of them in turn. “If you need horses, see my stable master. If you…”

“I think we’re here for the same reason Emil is,” said Pen. “We were sent by Eskil to meet up here. Are you the guide he talked about?”

“Name’s Barrett,” the man said gruffly. “And like I’ve already told this pompous ass, I’m not going unless I’m paid the proper fee. If you want my experience, pay for it. If not, get the hell off of my property.”

“I’m sure if you speak with Eskil, he will pay you what you’re due,” said Pen diplomatically. “When we spoke to him, he seemed very eager to see this mission through.”

“You cannot speak for Mr. Ryndarien,” Emil snapped heatedly. “Barrett, I appreciate your worth, truly, but I cannot offer more than the one thousand gold already offered.”

“Then I’m afraid you’re out of luck,” said Barrett, shrugging his large shoulders.

“Emil, you know where we’re going, right?” Donovan questioned. “Do we need a guide?”

“To get to the ruin themselves?” Emil asked. “No, we don’t. To help us safely navigate the miles and miles of thick, dangerous woodland? We very much do and frustrating to deal with though he may be, Barrett is the best in town.”

“Then pay him,” Candelaria spoke up from her place near the rear of the party. “If we need him, I think Pen’s right; Eskil would surely pay the thousand gold.”

“I don’t work on maybes and perhaps, little lady,” said Barrett, giving Candelaria a firm nod. “I work on solid deals and I know that curmudgeonly old coot is stingy as hell.”

“Then take my share,” said Candelaria, causing everyone in the group to stare at her for the second time that day. “I don’t need it, but I do need for this to work out so if I promise to give you my share of the reward, will you help us?”

Barrett stared at her closely through narrowed eyes. Everyone else did too, although most of them shared confused glances with each other as well. After a few moments, Barrett seemed to reach a decision, because he said: “Fine then, young miss. You’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll gather the horses.”

As Barrett strode away into the stables to saddle the seven horsed they would require for the trip, Pen turned to Candelaria.

“You know,” she said suspiciously. “You’re going to have to tell us what you’re after if you don’t want the money. You never did mention why you wanted to speak with Eskil… or what you wanted to talk to him privately about either.”

“I told Donovan when we met that I need Eskil’s help,” said Candelaria, glancing at Donovan. He nodded quickly.

“She did,” he agreed. “She said she needed to learn more about her magic.”

“I’m not here for the money,” Candelaria continued. “He offered to put me in touch with a friend of his that might be able to help. That’s my reward for this quest, so if I need to give up the gold to get us going then that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Hmm,” Pen murmured. She was clearly dissatisfied, but she let the matter drop.

Before long, Barrett returned with a collection of seven horses. A pair of solid black ones, three in shades of brown, one white and brown, and one solid white. Candelaria clearly wanted the white one based on the way she gazed longingly at it and rushed over the moment Barrett guided the creature over to the group. The rest of the party didn’t seem to care too much which horse they got and soon enough the group had mounted up.

With Barrett in the lead and the party gathered at last,  the group of soon-to-be-adventurers made their way through the gates and out into the rolling fields outside of Westruun; heading for the Parchwood Timberlands and whatever dangers lay within.