Fable - Ask Bay of Snakes (And Some Fools)

[Callius Vox Mauricus]

To the Valiant Adventurers of Arethil, far and wide.

Urgent Assistance Required - Naga Attacks on Minaris

Esteemed Adventurers,

I pen this letter to humbly request your presence and invaluable aid in a matter of grave concern that has befallen our fair city of Minaris. As a noble of the realm, I beseech you to undertake a perilous quest, one that demands both courage and skill, to protect innocent lives and restore peace to our once-thriving island.

Minaris has recently fallen prey to a devastating series of Naga attacks. These vile and fearsome creatures have emerged from the depths of nearby caverns, terrorizing our citizens and leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. Our brave soldiers and city guards have valiantly fought against these malevolent beings, but their numbers and strength are far too great to overcome alone.

It is with great urgency that I implore you to embark on a quest to rid Minaris of this menacing Naga threat. I am sure your reputations precede you, and our city looks to you with hope, praying for salvation from this dire peril.

The safety and welfare of our people rest in your capable hands. Should you choose to accept this formidable quest, your task will include:

Investigating the source of the Naga incursions: Explore the treacherous caverns, trace their origins, and gather intelligence on their motives and leaders. Uncover any weaknesses that can aid us in strategizing our defence.

Slaying the Naga threat: Engage in combat with the Naga, striking down their leaders, and disrupting their nefarious plans. Show them the strength and unwavering resolve of the heroes who stand against them.

Restoring peace and hope: Mend the spirits of our downtrodden citizens. Lend a compassionate ear, offer solace, and inspire them with stories of your valorous deeds. A city in despair longs for the light of hope to shine once more.

In recognition of your heroic endeavours, we pledge a generous reward of coin. Furthermore, your noble exploits will be immortalized in the annals of Minaris, and your names will echo through the halls of our grandest halls and taverns, sung by bards for generations to come.

Please make haste, dear adventurers, for time is of the essence. Minaris and its people eagerly await your arrival. Present yourself to the city gates, where you shall be welcomed with utmost reverence and provided with all necessary provisions to aid you in your valiant quest.

May the gods bless and protect you on this noble undertaking. The future of Minaris lies in your hands.

Yours sincerely,

Oleander of House Castlerock
Esteemed Lord of Minaris​

---

Callius crunched a bite from his apple as he read through the hasty scrawl -clearly written by some sort of squire or scholar instead of Lord Oleander himself- again, his eyes lingered on the word 'coin' and seemed to divert naturally away from the word 'naga' which may have been a red flag if he had been looking for red flags. Instead, he was concerned that his coin pouch held coppers that would barely get him a room in the worst inn in the city and that his wineskin was one sip away from being empty. As fate would have it, Nagas held the key to both his problems.

Throwing the apple over his shoulder, which happened to hit one of the Minaris guardsmen passing by, Callius tucked the overtly long letter into the satchel settled against the belt of his armour and promptly made himself scarce. Already, things had left a sour taste in his mouth and not because of the potentially fermenting apple he had just eaten, a day prior he had arrived on the Isles of Sheketh, presented formally the letter from Lord Oleander to the gatehouse and received absolutely none of the reverence nor the provisions promised.

In fact, it seemed like hardly anyone in the city wanted anything to do with him and it had nothing to do with his smell, no leads to follow, no one to offer guidance on where to meet the illustrious Lord Oleander. A real head-scratcher of a situation.

Though Callius had discovered at least three of the smaller trade vessels had been sunk a few leagues out to sea, no pirates had been spotted and no survivors found, only the wrecks torn asunder by a great force. Ominous and unsettling, but not exactly what he was there to deal with unless, of course, the Naga had discovered the ability to arrive, kill and leave without so much as a trace.

Scratching the greying beard growth across his jaw, he headed to where he assumed would make the most sense, surely someone else would have had to have arrived by now and they themselves would also require a good stiff drink.

Perhaps he could also earn back half of what that good-for-nothing portal-stone-crafting sharp-ear fuck had charged him on the mainland through a game of dice and some underhanded tactics.
____
Tarsas | Seretha ibnat Rezhe | Vocenae

 

[Tarsas]

City of Minaris

Isles of Sheketh

It had been a warm summer morning in Alliria when Askeladden was accosted by a portly man he did not know, striding up to him as he left the Dancing Dragon, a dingy local tavern located in a dilapidated wooden building, where he had just been in receiving the payment for his previous job. He had ended the life of what could only be described as a brute of a man, who had a sick habit of hiring and then beating to near death call girls. He had eventually visited a brothel owned by someone with power and influence, and Askel had been paid a large sum of gold to make sure that was the last brothel the brute ever visited.

The portly man proceeded to inform Askel he was representing Lord Oleander of Castle Rock and was seeking out those who could assist with handling Naga attacks that had been plaguing the city of Minaris on the Isles of Sheketh. Initially, he had little interest in making the journey across the world to a far-flung island to fight some beast, that is until the gold was mentioned. Notoriety was the last thing he wanted, but gold? Gold allowed him to live, and to accomplish his ultimate goal, finding his brother. The amount of gold promised had been significant, enough so, in fact, that he could avoid taking another job for a few months at least.

Fortunately, the trip took under three days thanks to the Allir Stone and the Sheketh Stone, portal stones that allowed for near instantaneous transportation between regions, and permitted him to travel still with his packhorse in tow. It was these circumstances that led him to his current situation, in a tavern in the middle district of Minaris. The weather was just as miserably warm as was in Alliria to Askel, who preferred the cold touch of winter, and being inside was not much more of a relief. Looking around, he noted the layout of the building, a large, square room with a lengthy series of oaken planks with a flat, well-worn counter that served as the bar pressed up against the far wall opposite the entry door with dark wooden stools in front. Round tables were interspersed at random intervals throughout the room with well-worn chairs arranged around them. Open windows along the wall that held the entrance provided some much-needed light and ventilation.

He picked up the parchment that the letter was written on once again, scanning the contents for anything he may have missed. So far, he had no leads to where the “treacherous caverns” even were. Having just arrived, he sought out the tavern in hopes that he might find others in the city who arrived on the same mission. Returning the parchment to the table, he picked up his drink and took a sip, the taste of the cheap alcohol hitting his tongue like being doused suddenly with cold water. It was mainly for appearances, since he rarely drank anything other than what was necessary for his survival. Keeping his hood up, he began to examine the patrons around him.

 

[Seretha ibnat Rezhe]

Maraan, Amol-Kalit
The Twin Arches
Dusk

Just outside of Maraan proper was actually one of the better locations to look for traveling work, Seretha had found. The interior of the walls did, of course, have more people and more opportunity for selling her wares, but those either went quick or ensured she needed to make herself scarce. This time was the latter as she had upset a particularly pious stablehand who knew a particular Templar or Templar-adjacent sort of reactionary and was quick to run for help. The kid was human, though, and likely wouldn't remember her face in the future. Besides, Maraan wasn't that small. She gave it a year, tops, before he'd forget the incident even happened much less any identifiable features of hers.

There were several camps along the ridge, each with their own fires and circled wagons, carts, and animals, and she quietly moved between them to listen for any kind of tip before trying to directly engage. Locations, caravan size or load details, anything.

Passing by a small fire for just three people, a few unexpected keywords wafted past her ears.

"Fallen prey... Naga... coin."

Her ears did indeed perk up at this - something that by itself was very literal and highly noticeable given the length of her ears - and she drifted toward them to hear more. While most likely exceedingly dangerous, she couldn't deny the appeal of naga bone; it had its own properties, she had heard, which made it especially useful. She approached from the side opposite where they were sitting together and stepped into the firelight.

"I couldn't help but overhear, but you heard about the Naga, too?"

One of them, a mid-tone, bald, human man who looked like he'd seen a fight or three in his day, looked up a her and coughed before saying, "Yeah, looks like they're hiring mercs. I don't know about you but that sounds like a recipe to end up in a grave."

His companions agreed, albeit somewhat reluctantly, as though the promise of riches and being heroes actually seemed tempting, but at the same time being unable to ignore the point that he made.

"Oh, I fully agree. But still, you have to wonder how much gold they actually have in... umm...," she snapped her fingers as though trying to conjure forth a memory which she didn't actually have."

"Minaris?" one of the men asked.

Excellent, Minaris was the likely place. Worst case scenario, she could probably figure it out from there.

"No, at the Nagas'... den, I suppose? But yeah Minaris, too, of course," she said, just to keep selling the illusion that this was certainly something she was already familiar with.

"No idea, not sure it's worth it anyway. Those fuckers are huge and I hate normal snakes," said the first man. "If you got a death wish, though, I ain't gonna stop you."

Seretha laughed and said, "Oh it's not a death wish exactly. It does sound fascinating though don't you think? I was going to at least check it out and just wanted to know if anyone else was headed up that way. Come find me in the morning if you are, I have my own horse and gear, plus a couple portal keys I ended up with. I could give you one."

She wandered off to find where she'd left her horse and made her way to the north end of the cluster of camps to give herself a good view of everyone going north in the morning. Urging the horse to lower itself into a resting position, she lay down against it and secured her pack, and surrendered herself quickly into sleep.

In the morning, the sun rose and she rose with it, walking her horse northward slowly to see if anyone was headed her way. She didn't see the men she'd spoken to, and so continued onward near some caravans. She might not have been hired to protect them, but if something did happen and she was on-hand to help them, it was likely they'd pay her all the same. And if they didn't, well, at least there'd be some fresh gathering to be done.

The various travelers slowly dwindled as they headed off toward desert waystations in the west, Elbion itself northeast, leaving just those likely bound for Lazular. Those she remained in sight of until they had to stop to rest and it seemed as though they were going to just end their day there, not overly far from the Elbion stone but far enough for their drivers not to want to push it. She had no such concerns and pushed her own mount onward at a greater speed than the traders had offered. By the time she had arrived in town, she dismounted not for the sake of her mount - it could handle the ride just fine - but for her own tired riding muscles.

The portal stone itself was an argument to get through quickly. It was well-used, and Elbion very much wanted its cut of the traffic, nevermind the opportunistic keymongers. Once she got through, though, it did its work to bring her to Sheketh at only the cost of one normal-looking bone charm off of her necklace and the discomfort she always felt with the stones. Truthfully, she hated them but her personal preferences couldn't be allowed to get in the way of such a potentially lucrative opportunity.

Sheketh to Minaris itself was less pleasant if only for the greater moisture in the air, but it was also smaller distance. It was only when she arrived that she realized she hadn't actually gotten a name from the men she spoke to and, cursing quietly to herself, she made her way to a relatively cheap looking public house.

---

Tarsas Callius Vox Mauricus

 

[Vocenae]

Minaris, The Sheketh Islands

"Oi, you finished with that then?" The bartender asked the heavily robed and clearly armed man who sat in front of him, taking up a space that a more freely drinking customer might take. The stranger had been nursing it for a long while before letting it sit for even longer as he'd been staring out into the small crowd of other strangers that had filled his inn.

The pale haired man cast his hazel eyes upward in a look of annoyance and boredom before flicking them back down to the dark liquid that sat in the tankard. He gripped it once more and took a large gulp of the awful drink before slamming the tankard down on the uneven and warped bar once more.

"The fuck does it look like? Another." Idrin of Valkenrath ordered.

As the bartender grunted something and took his coin in exchange for another tankard of swill, Idrin wished he was on the other side of the mountain right now, drinking wine instead of this piss water the locals called mead. But at least the inn wasn't a complete ruin (and even if it was he'd make due) and there was warm food and shelter to be found there. After all, the Blood Hunter had spent his early childhood in far less conditions and had braved the isolated wilds more than once. But what he wouldn't do for his chair, his roof, and a bottle of Ashwine right now...

And what Idrin doing right now was just waiting. Waiting on the action to begin.

Minaris was the largest city on Sheketh, a bit larger than his home town of Valkhald (and certainly larger than the Conclave's monastery within Valkemrath Peak) and was currently suffering from raids from the scourge of the sea: The Naga. The mists had blown in and the trade city had been besieged by the serpent-people of the ocean. Valkhald had the benefit of the channel and the volcanoes to protect it's small bay, but Minaris was simply out in the open. The strange mist had blown in and suddenly the city was left fending off almost daily raids from the monsters of the deep and had reached the point where its leadership was willing to spend more than a few coins on mercenaries to dal with the problem once and for all.

Of course, Idrin was there for another reason entirely. The money would be nice, but he was no simple sword for hire. He was a Blood Hunter, and he had seen sent on this mission from his superiors in the Sanguine Conclave, not simply because a poorly written parchment had blown in his face...Which judging by the scrappy quality of some of the other fighters here, clearly happened.

But, despite his inner musings, Idrin could feel a subtle shift in the heavy air of the inn. And he’d paid for this drink of dubious quality, so he’d better finish it lest the barhand bother him again.

 

[Callius Vox Mauricus]

The tavern was as one might expect a tavern to be, not the worst, but also not the best Minaris could offer. Of course, half of the rabble drinking and roughhousing would not have been allowed in the better establishments of the city so the place was perfect for Callius. One look around the place and it was clear the hastily scrawled messages sent to the mainland on-mass had done their job.

Fingers flexed as he counted under his breath, at least seven different groups of mercenaries, sellswords and possibly what looked like a group from a Free Army. Interesting. Callius had expected some response but such a healthy spread of competition to his payday was not in his plans.

"A party then." He mused, sweeping the ragged, burnt and shredded orange gnoll-fur cloak over one pauldron to feel around his admittedly very light coin purse. No position to pay for the stragglers, instead he would need to think outside of the box and as if some higher being had been listening to his thoughts, in stepped an elf of dark complexion. She stood out like a sore thumb, with bones, desert attire and an air of mystery about her. Perfect.

Callius as smooth as butter sidled to place himself beside the woman, bushwhacking her before she could even get a bead on the room. "Well, you're not here to trade and you're very far from your desert, so can I make the assumption you're here for the coin?" He half asked low and sideways, though he knew the answer, he was no newcomer on the scene. "Act natural, follow me. If we want even a sniff of the reward we need bodies." Callius had no idea how close to home his statement might have been, but he offered her a wry wink and a small smirk, before striding off into the tavern.

His first port of call was the hooded fellow, skulking in a brightly lit tavern beneath a heavy hood cradling a drink like he was completely unaware of what it was for. Could not have made himself more obvious if he tried. Dropping himself at the man's table, he kicked his dirty, mud-covered leather boots up onto the wood surface, regarding Askel for a long moment, before clicking his fingers.

"Ah, that's right," Callius started, thumbing back to the elf who may or may not have followed him on his rather sudden and sporadic introduction, "You're just what I and my companion need, you see we're here to kill or rid I suppose this fine cities' affliction; Naga," He tapped the parchment in front of Askel and nodded thrice, offering a smile that was both pleasant and incredibly insincere, he also stunk of alcohol and about four days of travel unwashed by more than a passing stream, "As I'm sure you're very aware, looking around yourself, we're at a somewhat large disadvantage for those who can count, I see you are at an even larger disadvantage. So, how about we all turn our personal, lonely little disadvantages into a much larger, more capable advantage?"

Callius said the last bit a touch louder, because the man at the bar looked a lot like he needed something stronger than the watered-down mead he was being served, gold was a fine provider of luxury and he had a sneaking suspicion the man was also flying solo... Call it a hunch. A Callius Special.​

___
Seretha ibnat Rezhe | Vocenae | Tarsas

 

[Seretha ibnat Rezhe]

The place was indeed cheap and filled to brim with what Seretha could only assume were adventurers looking for the reward. There were a lot of them but really that might have been better than what she was expecting. With so many, the likelihood that she would have to get her hands dirty - so to speak, anyway; making tools wasn't necessarily clean and harvesting bone was certainly not - had to be quite low.

If they were bad at their jobs, or simply unlucky, then she at least would have materials to work with. This may well just work out after all, she thought just as a dirty-looking man appeared at her side.

"Act natural, follow me. If we want even a sniff of the reward we need bodies," he said, surprising her. She struggled to keep any look of shock off of her face and covered it with a piercing look at the man as he walked away.

She was intrigued, she had to admit. Did he know? Certainly the bone jewelry wasn't exactly subtle but humans just assumed that Abtati were feral savages in any case, so that always sufficed for good cover. Was he similar? Was he competition?

And so she followed him, entirely unsure, a little uneasy, very much interested in finding out more. Besides, this was clearly the place she had been looking for if she wanted information on the job.

The man sat himself at a table with one other and starting talking, gesturing back to Seretha as he did so. She couldn't really hear him with the volume of their surroundings and her attempt to pick up pieces of information from those around, but the gesture convinced her to join them. She took the seat that was farther from the man's traveling boots - and he had certainly been traveling a lot by the look of them - and shoved his legs off of the table as she lowered herself.

"I think I'd do fine," she said, "But if you're offering to make it easier...."

She trailed off, thinking more of what good he might do in death than in life. That was unfair, though, of course; she didn't know him enough to judge the value of his life.

---

Tarsas Vocenae Callius Vox Mauricus

 

[Tarsas]

The Idle Snake

City of Minaris

Isles of Sheketh

Askel had noticed the name of the tavern, displayed proudly on a well-worn sign hanging on the wall, and took a moment to be amused at the irony of the name. He was sure the general population of this community wished the snakes were idle. His eyes flicked to the door as a boisterous looking fellow entered the tavern. The individual stepped out of the way of the entry door and began to survey the tavern. Behind him, what Askel thought might’ve been a desert elf stepped into the doorway. The boisterous man spotted her immediately and pivoted towards her as she stopped a moment to observe the tavern and its denizens. Rather than focus his hearing, Askel opted just to read their lips, since he assumed they would both be speaking in common.

The man made a comment about where she was from and why she was there before telling her to act natural and follow him. Askel theorized they weren’t here together from that exchange but were seeking to appear as if they were. As they began to move into the tavern, he glanced around, noting the table of sellswords next to him on the right. Five burly men, each with differing hairstyles, all dressed in similar armor with the crest of a white dog on the front. Armed as one might expect with various martial weapons and a shield each. They were making no attempt to remain inconspicuous, loudly carrying on and laughing. The table on the left had a group of what appeared to be composed of mages, speaking quietly amongst themselves.

He was abruptly distracted from his observations as the man and the elf nosily arrived at his table. He had heard them approaching in his direction but was inclined to think they might approach one of the other groups. He realized that he was sadly mistaken, as the boorish drunkard sat right at his table and put his disgusting boots upon the surface. Though Askel was from a small village, his work had required him to refine his reading, writing, speech, and etiquette to blend in. Clearly, this individual didn’t have the same requirement. Reeking of sweat and alcohol, it seemed as if he put little stock in personal hygiene. The elf took the seat to the direct right of Askel, thankfully removing the man’s boots from the table. Without waiting, the man began to speak in hurried tones.

"Ah, that's right," he said while indicating the elf next to Askel with a thumb, "You're just what I and my companion need, you see we're here to kill or rid I suppose this fine cities' affliction; Naga.” He tapped the parchment Askel had been regarding hoping some instructional detail would appear that wasn’t there. The smile accompanying his words was annoyingly insincere which made him seem suspicious. The unsavory man continued without much pause. “As I'm sure you're very aware, looking around yourself, we're at a somewhat large disadvantage for those who can count, I see you are at an even larger disadvantage. So, how about we all turn our personal, lonely little disadvantages into a much larger, more capable advantage?"

Askel had no intention of disagreeing with the man over his precise level of disadvantage. Though young he was, he learned quickly to keep as many details as possible to yourself in the shallows, something that carried over anywhere he went. Considering a moment, he decided to at least see what he was being offered. Both the man and the elf were sitting with exposed vital spots, regarding him carefully. If trouble did come, he could likely have a bolt sticking out at least of one of their throats from his concealed gauntlet crossbows before they could react. Dropping the pretense of the drink, he pulled a flask made of an elven metal out of his cloak, taking a small sip, feeling the warmth of the blood and wine mixture sliding down his throat. He felt the familiar slight decrease in his extrasensory abilities and the slight increase in strength and stamina. He didn’t know very much about sand elves, but he hoped they didn’t have the same enhanced sense of smell he did, or the she-elf might be able to pick out the tang of the blood mixed with the wine from the open flask as close as she was.

Returning the flask to his belt as the slight buzz settled over him, he leaned forward towards the man and balanced his chin on his two closed fists, elbows on the table and fixed Callius in an icy blue stare. “I’m listening, what are you proposing?”

Seretha ibnat Rezhe Callius Vox Mauricus Vocenae

 

[Idrin of Valkenrath]

Idrin silently scoffed at the bravado of the shaggy man and the elf while his robed back was to them. Such showmanship and all to impress sellswords that would likely cut and run the moment something went wrong. But, even if there were only a handful that went along with the two, that meant his own mission would be much easier. After all, the man and and his elf looked capable in a fight. Or at the very least, they'd serve as a suitable distraction so that Idrin could slip away on his own. Time would only tell, and the white haired warrior downed the tankard of distilled piss and slammed it once again on the rickety bar. He would never be satisfied with the swill, but damn all the hells that awaited them, if only it had quenched his blasted thirst! But despite the dryness in his throat, Idrin steeled himself and began making his way towards the collection of mercenaries.

'If its showmanship they want...' The Blood Hunter thought as he put on his most welcoming grin.

"Ah, I see others have come to slay the sea-beasts!" Idrin said as he approached the group, pulling out a similar piece of parchment to the ones that were being held in the assembled group. He slowly panned the paper around, letting all eyes see the scrawled text in the flickering light of the tavern's hearth. Just more showmanship, the paper had been provided to him to give him ample excuse as to why he was walking around in full armor with his sword.

Confident that he was selling the part well, Idrin nodded politely to the exotic elf before locking eyes with the burly, shabby looking man.

"And it seems that you, good sir, are looking for capable companions! Allow me to introduce myself! I am Virius, of Alliria! And if you would have me, I would be grateful to add my skills to this band of warriors you've collected!"

The name, of course, was a lie. Old Virius would likely be enraged at the idea his ancient name being used as an alias, but the old codger hadn't left the Sanctum in over seventeen years, and likely never would again. So why not bandy the name around? After all, if things went tits up, all anyone had to go on was Idrin's appearance and a false name. Given how large the myriad lands of this world were and steering any potential threats towards the massive city of his birth, well, good luck to anyone that might end up hunting him.

The Blood Hunter held out a gloved hand towards Callius, a enthusiastic grin on his face.