So having finished ‘The Quest for Shala’ now starts the book that precedes it:
Within one of the meeting rooms inside Droxburg Castle, a weathered human adventurer stands alone awaiting the reason for his summons. By his side, gripped in his off hand, a large rimmed dusty hat. A stained and partially ripped cloak hangs off his shoulders concealing the scabbard and sword hung from his belt. Rubbing first his grizzled chin, he then run his hand through his shoulder length black hair. Waiting made him anxious.
In the meeting room across the hall, another stood waiting. A dwarf with a deeper hatred for being made to wait. Rotund and muscular, he cut an intimidating vision dressed in a chain mail shirt over his deep brown shirt, large hobnail boots below darker brown trousers. Across his back, a sheathed butterfly axe that looked to be of some age and of supreme dwarven forge-manship. There was no doubting this to be a family heirloom, passed from generation to generation. The dwarf continously ran his hands down his blonde plaited beard, whilst cursing his rumbling stomach and there being a lack of food whilst being made to wait.
Already inside the main chamber stood a male and female talking in hushed word. The male was draped within a full length ruby red, hooded cloak that partially concealed his flowing silver hair. He was leaning on an ornately carved wooden staff. The female was adorned in full leather armour, her auburn hair cut short and tight to the back and sides, the top cascading down to just above her shoulders. Upon closer inspection of the two, their facial features were identical in every aspect, right down to the piercing ice blue eyes.
Eventually, the dwarf and human fighter are escorted by a couple of Droxburg guards to stand alongside the twins in the main chamber, where they partake in small talk and pleasantries.