the city of pal-hortharl was silent a unit of knights from each of the seven countries walking with an envoy of their lords and masters with them, in the end of the war it was known that the leader of this city was a well respected group.

our story on the other hand starts in the only tavern in the city, the bane of death, inside there were severel tables empty and one had a cloaked man with a mysterious orb in his hand talking to it in a almost mysterious mana


ooc this is where you will all meet up as travelers to this city asit is the only place to find a room

inside the tavern travelers arived one at a time only to find their names already booked in by the man sat at the center table he had booked the entire building for a party of adventurers he had hired by letter none of them knew each other and he hoped they would be able to work together, so far he had waited a while then he spoke to the barmaid "when they arive bring them to the meeting room i booked for us" with that he left to a room with a large table and quite a few chairs and he waited for the adventurers to arrive for their breifing

The old wooden door opened with a crack and another figure entered the tavern "Bane of Death". Inside it looked more like "bane of good taste and decency" as it was filled with all kinds of fellows of questionable morale. But the figure didn't mind as he walked to the bar, heavy footfalls might have been heard if they weren't silenced down by all the noise around. Strangely enough, once he spoke his name and ordered a drink, the local barmaid gave him a pint of beer and informed him that his employer was already present and waiting in the room upstairs. Taking a sip, the figure reluctantly obeyed and went where he was told, knocking on the door and entering the place.

There, he saw a table and few empty chairs. In fact, he was the only one present besides a single hooded figure. Taking a seat, he took off his cloak and placed both of his great shield and battle axe next to him, while his trusty mace was still on his belt.

"I trust you are my employer?" he asked, taking another sip of the beer. It was quite good. "Hail, I am Ragnar Mikelsson," the dwarf fighter spoke and banged his chest with clenched fist, as was a custom in his country.

"well met captain Ragnar" as he spoke the figure remained sat down his hood over his head "yes i am the employer but i will explain mor when the other members arive"

Heavy Chains hanging from the armor were wiggling and dancing in the wind until the door was closed. Weapons holstered on the back which were a Spear and a Mace. A lonely Kite shield hanging on the left arm with the insignia of a quite famous creature.

"My fate of pilgrimage sends me here and I was told to meet a man who could aid me, blessed maid." The female inquired and was simply mere send upstairs. The Silver-scaled Dragonborn nodded in appreciation and blessed the individual before making her way upstairs. Once the door was opened, a hooded man and a Dwarf was spotted.

"Greetings, I am Cleric Artana, here on my Pilgrimage to spread faith and find blessing of Bahamut himself." She bowed deeply to the two strangers and approached slowly to take a seat on one of the massive chairs. Her robes were only over her shoulders and back. No hood. Revealing the heavy iron armor of hers, not making a fuzz in attempt to hide it or her weapons.

The Kite shield remained on her left arm, showing her allegiance to Bahamut without shame, but pride. She folded her hands and prayed for the safe arrival of further adventurers which path would cross through here and in hope to receive fresh, but neither hot, cold or rainy days for the rest of the week, as so their travels would be in best condition.

"greetings lady cleric" as the figure spoke he semed slightly distant "i would like to ask if you would be kind enough to keep any form of iron away from me if posible, the reason for which will become more aparent later on" as it spoke it placed its orb in a circle object that held it revealing his armourd hand that had held it, bright red armour by the looks of it with the symbol of a sun on his hand

"I can assure you that my Iron will stick on my body, just like my scales." The Dragonborn smiled, turning to the dwarf-man, awaiting his introduction or the arrival of another member that will join them.

A jovial and incredibly handsome Tiefling walked in, with red skin, pronounced horns, and fiery orange eyes that offset his purple hair that all added to suggest an air of mischievous intent about the man. His clothes were simple leather armor, and in his arms he carried a lute, on his hip a rapier, and strung across his back a shortbow. Quill, ink, and parchment could be seen easily accessible in his pack. He walked straight up to the bartender and leaned on the bar.

"Greetings my good man, I am here to meet someone, though I must confess a lack of knowledge as to this fellow's name and what he looks like! Perhaps he has said that he is waiting for me?"

"they are in the room upstairs on the right you cant miss it it says private on the front" as the gnome behind the bar spoke he drank from a tankerd

The doors swung open just barely after they closed, forcefully pushed by a tall Dark Elf, clad in lightweight metal armour painted red and interspersed with hardened leather for ease of movement. Her hair, black as her skin, swaying with her obviously intentionally hubristic entrance as she moved further inside. Shield and a large blade on back, another sword on her hip, it was obvious this person was just as much martial as she was theatralic.
"Dame Abraxa, faithful servant of Lady Red Knight, has arrived to your tavern. Oh, please. Prostrating is not necessary but will be appreciated", the woman announced loudly as the door slowly recovered from being slammed into the wall and slowly and creakily moved to close itself.
"I have travelled here to meet companions for a quest; is there any good man to tell me where I would find them?", she continued, throwing her deep crimson hooded cloak at the nearest available peasant.