“So the summoned number rises!” remarked the robed maled. “My name is Rohlen, learned in the ways of the arcane, and this is my sister….”
“Yulien,” interjected the female by his side. “Cleric of Lyra”.
Rohlen noticed the way in which his sister’s eyes seemed locked on this new male. ‘This would only spell trouble,’ he thought.
“I am Tumbor, son of Lorgrum,” proclaimed the dwarf. “I see a lack of hospitality food in here too.”
“And I am…”
“Jax Dupont!” finished Yulien, her voice carrying an air of infatuation.
“My name precedes me,” said Jax bowing in the direction of the group.
“Adventurer of dubious reputation,” offered Rohlen boldly. “I wonder the nature of our summons if you too received the letter.”
“Destiny has it that you and I will become great friends.” No one in the group other than Jax knew if he was being sincere, or making folly at Rohlen’s expense. One of the guards within earshot sniggered, resulting in a deathly stare from the mage. Silence returned once more to the chamber.
Several moments later and the unmistakable image of Princess Grefiel Shinestar entered, dismissing the guards with a simple hand gesture. She was dressed in a flowing light grey full length gown, accented with a dull red rope belt that hung upon her hips. Her blonde hair was braided down her back, and a top her head sat the royal crown. She cut a forlorn figure as she approached the group.
The three humans, Jax, Rohlen and Yulien fell upon one knee as was customary when in the presence of royalty, with Tumbor remaining stood. Jax cut him a sideways sneer, but it went unnoticed.
“Welcome to you all,” the Princess said ushering them to stand. “I’m afraid I gather you here under quite desperate times.” Nobody spoke. “Rumours have reached my ear that the village of Yord is being plagued by some kind of apparition.”
“Rumours? You gather us for rumours!” blasted Tumbor. “Send some guards to investigate these rumours and call us again when you need something bashing.”
The Princess bowed her head solemnly. “Two detachments have set out for Yord. Neither have returned.”
“My lady,” started Rohlen. “If fifty men have failed to return, what hope do you believe four would have on the same quest?”
Tumbor muttered expletives about the quality of human guard swordsmanship, that he alone could best the fifty, but they heeded him no attention.
“Your reputations and individual skills, they set you apart from ordinary city guard.”
The four look at each other, seeking each others thoughts on the matter in hand. Collectively they agreed to undertake the Princess’ quest, however individually each harboured doubts as to their success.
“Do you have any further information or advise for us my lady?” enquired Yulien, who up until now had be somewhat anonymous from conversation.
“Yes,” she replied. “Seek the elven ranger Fraevon. His knowledge of the land and trails around these parts may prove useful.”
The three bowed, Tumbor ignoring human tradition, as they took their leave from the council of Princess Grefiel. Once out of sight, Jax clipped the dwarf around the back of the head.