The Dauntless

The Wizard's Grace tavern is Breachill's favored tavern for adventurers and those that want to be near them, and that's never more true than the day of a Call for Heroes. As you enter, it seems most of the notable figures in town are here for an early lunch before the big event, eating, talking, and generally having a good time as a young halfling woman darts nimbly around the crowd, serving up bowl after bowl before ducking back into the kitchen.

The Call is still an hour away, and yet it seems it's all anyone can think about.

[[This isn't pressure to finish your characters up folks, just giving everyone the ability to open up RP when they're ready. We'll go into the adventure proper when everyone has their sheets and backstories done and everyone is done with tavern RP.]]

Antoinette and her traveling compatriots have seated themselves at a table near the wall. Antoinette is twirling her hair with one hand as she stares at a formula she seems to be working out in her notebook. Looking mildly frustrated, Antoinette looks up and tries to flag the young woman serving. ”Escusez-moi! I would like a bottle of wine for the table, s'il vous plaît.”

Dorrak sighs, shaking his head. "She's clearly busy, give her a moment," he says with his usual dour expression. "And no wine for me, I don't drink." He sits on a stool, his blade and shield strapped to his back despite the relative safety of their situation. His gaze does rest enviously on the plates of food in front of others, however.

The woman casually twirls between the legs of a half-orc man on his way to the restroom, dropping a bowl off at another table before sliding over to your table. "No worries, if I couldn't handle a busy crowd I would've gone out of business a hundred and twenty-seven Calls ago. Any specific bottle or do you want the house recommended?" She stops, looking at the four of you briefly. "Well one of you looks familiar anyway, but for the rest of you, our special today is a beef and lentil stew."

”A bottle of the house recommended sounds good,” Antoinette replies. She taps a quill on her notebook a few times in a short moment of contemplation. ”I think I shall have some of the stew as well.”

"I'll have two bowls of the stew, thank you," Dorrak requests with a short nod.

"Has it been ten years already? Feels like just yesterday you were just getting started," The long-haired elf, Luna (Lunarala for the formal), says with a wide grin for the halfling. "Always worth the stop whenever I stop at home though," She adds, lost in memories before seemingly remembering the woman was taking orders. "Oh, yes, and the stew does sound lovely."

Django orders the stew with bread and a glass.

"Comin' right up." Trinil ducks away, twirling around multiple people and sliding across an empty chair on her way back to the kitchen.

Antoinette quickly goes back to staring at her notes. She crosses something like out and writes something else nearby. She ponders for a moment. Then she looks to Luna. ”Seeing as you come from this place, could you illuminate a bit more for me the significance behind this Call for Heroes thing?”

Loosening the straps of the leather armor under his sky-blue traveling robes, the road-dusted and unshaven Django stretches his arms over his head with a yawn. ”Quite the trip over, eh, Sir Dorrak?” he asks the burly half-orc, a twinkle in his amethyst eyes.

”Yeah, been on the road for a long time now. It’s good to see a place this busy, it’s almost a little taste of home.” Dorrak nods and sighs. ”But no honorifics please. No-one knighted me.”

"Supposedly this whole town owes it's existence to an adventuring Wizard, who helped the amnesiac people who founded Breachill in his name. Because of him, the town as a whole has always had a particular appreciation for adventurers, and as such the town council officially recognizes an adventurer's ability to do things that, say, the town wouldn't be able to do. So every month they have a meeting where they put some resources together and hire heroes to handle any uch situations that come up," Luna explains. "The fact that it's so well known in these parts also means that a lot of adventurers will make it a point to stop by around this time of month, which no doubt makes local businesses quite happy to keep supporting such a good cause."

”Magnifique,” Antoinette exclaims. ”Our timing is quite serendipitous then. Django, do you think this month’s call may have something to do with your vision?”

”Hard to say, really,” Django says, stroking his chin thoughtfully. ”Prophetic dreams are weird; it’s hard to tell when or even if something you see is going to happen. I’m happy to go and try to get some info from this Call To Heroes, but I’m not expecting answers about my visions to come until they come, to be totally honest.”

”Ah the unpredictability of prophecy,” Antoinette replies. She seems to have stopped writing and started sketching something in her book. ”I suppose we might as well participate anyway. We could certainly use the money.”

"Agreed. It could be a good opportunity to help some people too," Dorrak agrees. "Doubt we'll get anything too big, since we're not too experienced and there's plenty of adventurers here, but it's good to chip in."

Trinil returns, balancing a bowl in each hand, another in the crook of each elbow and one on the side of her head, which is tilted sideways to pinch a small platter carrying a bottle of wine and three glasses against her shoulder. Within seconds all of these things are set on the table in front of their respective orderers and Trinil is straightened up. "Anything else, folks?"

"Merci," Antoinette says as she moves the book into her pack. She begins to pour herself some wine. "I think I will be fine for now."

"Agreed, this should do just fine," Luna adds with a nod, hungrily eyeing the bowl of stew before her.

The stew is delicious, and although the wine (Sauerton Red, a famously terrible cheap brand) is terrible on its own, it pairs startlingly well with the stew. At a quarter to noon, the sound of a bell tolling comes from the southeast, the direction of town hall. The townsfolk eagerly rise and begin shuffling outside. Once outside, the crowd plows towards a stone bridge leading to a massive marble-paved circle. Around it stand six deep wells that the nearby residents and businesses rely on for fresh water. In the center of the ring is an elegant, 15-foot-tall bronze statue of a wizard with long, flowing hair and a closely cropped beard, standing in a heroic pose. As you move through the circle with the crowd, you realize that everyone seems to be coordinating with each other some, muttering to each other, and by the time you're on the other side they've rearranged themselves so that the four of you stand in front. Opposite the circle from the bridge is a large building with another small crowd outside its closed doors, probably bringing the total to around 50 or 60, many of whom are small children.

Once you join this new crowd, the coordinated mingling breaks off-this seems only to have had the purpose of showing you, the new faces, off to the others so people know who to look for. Immediately you're swarmed by the children, eagerly asking questions like if Luna is going to do the Call this month, or what kind of sword Dorrak is carrying.

Separate from all of this, directly in front of the doors is a goblin dressed in a delicate white robe and oversized black cap, a large silver butterfly hanging from around her neck. She's muttering as she paces in front of the doors.

Dorrak glances at the children swarming him and smiles a bit. ”It’s a bastard sword, but don’t let your parents hear you repeat that word unless you’re talking about a sword.”

A little overwhelmed by the sudden rush of people, Antoinette does her best to extricate herself from the crowd. She moves slowly and methodically toward the door, shoving though as politely as possible. Once she finally makes it out she falls back against the wall and slowly sinks into a sitting position. She spends a few moments just sitting there and calmly breathing.

The children giggle at the idea of a naughty word being used for a sword and continue peppering him with questions.

The goblin pauses in her pacing when she sees Antoinette. She bites her lip nervously, but approaches the young woman. "Are... you okay, Miss?"

”Je vais bien, merci,” Antoinette replies. ”I just needed to escape the crowds for a moment. I greatly prefer not to be swarmed by other people.”

"Of course I am," Luna responds to the gaggle of children. "After all, what sort of hero would I be if I didn't do the Call when the timing lined up so very perfectly?"