dungeon

"I take it you heard of the contract from one of the barkeeps?" the man asked. "Yes." A lie. It tasted foul in Mischa's mouth. It was not the Orcish way. A saying from her tribe, the Dm'rohk, translated into Common: Speak plainly, speak the truth. And she had not spoken the truth. And, as it...

That Which Makes Pure has directed Mischa Ven'rohk to Vel Anir for a reason. It is here she may find the Key. The Key to unlock the Vault. And what lies within. The premise: It seems a normal mercenary sort of job one might find in a tavern, if vague. The man isn't a noble, but works for one...