@Alfred:
An escort job was certainly nothing out of the ordinary. The tiny caravan, consisting of the single wagon, the young merchant, and Alfred himself, along with one other bodyguard. Having two guards was mildly excessive, considering the largely safe caravan route they would be traveling, but apparently the boy's father had enough spare cash that he was willing to pay in order to minimize even the slightest chance of danger to the caravan's most precious cargo.
The young boy, apparently in his teens, was hardly appreciative of his father's efforts. He looked dubiously at his hired guards, rolled his eyes, and proceeded to finish loading the cart. In his mind, he was capable of defending himself, but this was the only way that his father would let him leave town.
The sun was already high in the sky by the time the caravan departed. However, they didn't make it far - only feet outside of the gates, they were halted by a patrol of mounted, armored figures, who trotted up behind the company with an irksome, "Halt!"
Their armor bore an insignia that seemed to represent some sort of authority, though it was clearly not the seal indicating a member of the Royal Guard. There were four of them, in total. The young merchant grumbled at the disruption, swinging himself out of the seat of the wagon and approaching the armored men. "What do you want?" He said irritably.
The leader of the newcomers, easily identified by his pompous manner as much as by the extra plume in his helmet, stroked his moustache as he replied. "Careful, boy; show a little respect. We are from the Seekers."
The Seekers! There was a name that Alfred hadn't heard in quite some time. The organization had burst into existence a few years ago, apparently followers of some sort of crazy rumor involving "the Shade," some sort of ancient, mythical demon or something like that. They had disappeared as quickly as they had come, several years ago. Strange to see them here now. Something must be going on here....
The Seeker knight continued, "We've heard that an object of some importance has recently come into town. We'd simply like to inspect your cargo to ensure that you do not carry it, and will let you go in peace."
"What object?" replied the merchant.
The knight shook his head, causing the feathers in his helmet to wave back and forth violently. "That's of no concern of yours. Unless the object is in your possession, there is no need to worry. We should only take a few minutes."
"It's of my concern if you're trying to go through my stuff! I'll bet you're nothing more than a bunch of dirty thieves!" Furious, the boy turned to his guards. "Well? You're supposed to protect the wagon, aren't you? Chase these guys off!"
The second bodyguard glanced sideways at Alfred, unsure as to what to do.
@Sofia:
"Sophia? What a pretty name. It suits you." The boy took her hand, shaking it gently. His own palms were soft, accustomed to the pages of book rather than any sort of physical labor. "Mephis Darrington. I am
delighted to make your acquaintance. I've been here for a while, so I know all about the Tower of Magi. You ever have any questions, just let me know. I've been over every inch of this place." After a pause, he looked around, possibly in a fashion more dramatic than was really necessary, before adding, "Even the upper levels. You know, the ones where you aren't supposed to be able to go on your own? You try going up the stairs, and there's a forcefield that blocks you. But I know a way around it. Wanna check it out?"
@Ramli:
The iron shackles were uncomfortable, digging into Ramli's wrists painfully after several hours of being chained to the wall of the cart. There were two other prisoners there with him, though they weren't really ones for talking. One of them had asked Ramli why he had been arrested, and sorted when Ramli explained that it was just a misunderstanding.
Farrance was several hours ride to the north. It was already early afternoon by the time the creaky old cart, with its entourage of guards, arrived at the courtroom. The small judiciary center had only a single, poorly ventilated room, meaning that prisoners, witnesses, and judges alike had to suffer through the heat as they waited for their turn to appeal. Finally, it was Ramli's turn to approach the bench. The single judge, leaning on the symbolic Staff of Judgement, stifled a yawn as he looked at the dwarf.
As eloquently as he could, Ramli explained the situation, relating that the men had been trying to steal his goods, and that his actions had been in self-defense. The judge raised an eyebrow, and seemed about to reply, when a commotion echoed from outside. His curiosity getting the better of him, he immediately lost all interest in the case, distractedly yelling, "Guilt... erm, innocent, I mean. Yes, innocent. You seem like a decent enough fellow, so... case dismissed." Still speaking, he hurried down from the podium and approached the window, peering through the shutters. With a sudden crash, something smashed through the glass, sending the courtyard into chaos. Ramli realized that his shackles had been released; he was free to go. An odd trial, but effective. Now, what was happening outside... ?
@Azumith:
Seeing the confused look on Azumith's face, Melyr chuckled. "I apologize for being so hasty; importance is no reason to put aside courtesy. Have a seat. I'll explain." He gestured to a well-padded chair opposite his desk. "We've received word of an incredibly powerful source of magic coming from the trading town of Farrance. As you know, any source of uncontained magic is dangerous - we don't want some unwitting soul to set up some sort of ancient curse. I'm sure you could imagine the negative impact that would have on the image of magic! However, the council has its hands full already, and isn't able to send a representative to identify the situation. So, we've prepared this scroll. It contains a simple spell that will identify the source of the disturbance, and will contain its powers in a temporary seal so that it be returned to the Tower for study. As with all scrolls, the magic it contains can only be used once before losing its potency, so do please be wise in when you choose to use it. Anywhere within the borders of Farrance should be just fine. In addition to the scroll, I'm also including a note apologizing for the situation, and an amount of gold sufficient to compensate whomever happens to be the owner of the object that needs to be retrieved. It should be a fairly simple task, but I wanted to assign it to someone I know I can trust. I've known you for a long time, Azimuth, and I certainly trust you. Are you up for the task?"
@Angel:
It took Angel slightly longer than expected to gather her usual supplies; apparently, the harvest had been more bountiful in certain ingredients than others. After some time and effort, she fortunately managed to collect everything that she needed, and was prepared to set off on her journey. However, just as she prepared to make her way to the front gate, a voice stopped her. "Angel PhoenixFire?" She looked around, surprised. The voice was unfamiliar. How did it know her name? A white-bearded old man in a lopsided hat appeared to be its source. Clearly older, he leaned upon a crooked staff as he walked, though his stride seemed strong otherwise. She had never met, or, indeed, ever seen him before. She recalled what she had learned regarding magic, and wondered if this old man had perhaps learned her name through some some of magical shenanigans.
"There you are. Slightly late. Not very polite, you know," he chided sternly. On second thought, perhaps he was just crazy.... From somewhere within the folds of his robes, he withdrew something, his gnarled hand clasped tightly around the small object. "Now, I need you to hold on to this tightly. It's going to be important, one of these days." He took her hand and pressed the object into it. Strangely, she found herself unable to make any sort of effort to reject the gesture. The object was cold and hard to the touch. "Listen carefully," the old man continued. His entire demeanor suddenly changed. Angel abruptly had the sensation she was speaking with a mighty king. "When night falls, the shining stars emerge. Only a select few are chosen to be their messengers. You will know them when you see them - the star knows its own. When the darkness is greatest, that is when it will be the brightest. If you and your future companions fail to protect it, all is lost."
As if snapping out of a daze, she looked around her. The old man was gone; she wasn't sure if he had simply vanished, or if she had been so distracted that she didn't notice him leave. Or had he ever really been there at all? Yet, there was still something in her palm....
She uncurled her hand, and a bright light burst outward, lighting up the alleys and crannies of the city block. Straining her eyes, she could make old a brilliant platinum pendant, shaped like an eight-pointed star, with a supporting thin, silver chain. In its center was set the source of the bright, white light. She couldn't identify what it was, but it felt round and smooth to the touch. Her eyes were burning even after looking for it for these brief few seconds.
In a nearby alleyway, an armored figure had been speaking with a cloaked man. The cloaked man's hood was pulled up over his face, shrouding him in shadows. Only a few snippets of their conversation could be heard.
"...looking everywhere, but we can't find...."
"...disappointed. You know what happens...."
"The Starjewel...."
It was then that Angel uncovered the jewel. Their words stopped abruptly. Without a need to exchange another word, they ran for the source of the light.
Impulsively, Angel bolted for the Red Dragon, the closest building with which she was familiar. As she ran, several more of the robed figures appeared from the shadows, in hot pursuit.
Out of breath, she stumbled into the tavern, knocking over a table of dishes as she skidded to a halt.
"What in blazes is going on out here?" shouted William as he emerged from the kitchen. He then caught a sight of the panicked look on Angel's face, and the incoming mob of mysterious robed shadows. Not another word of explanation needed to be said. "Pallana," he said as he hoisted a table against the door as a make-shift barricade, sending yet another clatter of dishes to the floor, "take Angel out the back through the exit in the kitchen. Hurry!"
A Few Notes
- The relative length of my response to you compared to others does not mean that you are any more or less significant to the story or important than anyone else, so don't worry if a response seems long or short; it will all balance out over time. Sometimes, someone is just in a more convenient position to advance the story, so they end up getting some extra.
- @Alfred: Though your encounter is taking place concurrently with the events in the tavern, you are far enough away that only the very faintest echoes of the commotion can be heard.