Chapter 1
Ternia. Legend holds that this was once a very peaceful land. Beautiful and overflowing with life and wonders beyond our comprehension. All of this is long gone now, but not all things are dark and dismal. There are still tensions, of course, but that is only natural in any world. A young Halfling woman yawned, her face turned up to the sun's gentle rays. The leaves of the oak she had laid beneath rustled in the slight summer breeze. Her fiery hair blazed in a wild mane around her head, a long braided tail beginning at the base of her skull. Her top left little to the imagination, only covering part of her ample bosom, tying at the back of her neck. Long, colorful sleeved were bound to her arms by leather straps and copper arm bands. Her bottom was only covered by a leather-like bikini, colorful leggings beginning at her mid-thigh and secured by straps. Bright, amber eyes glittered with unspoken mischief as she rose up from her place.
Below her, the town of Mandova bustled with activity. Farm hands and simple men walked about, selling goods or simply heading to the local tavern and inn for a good, hard drink. The Halfling smiled at that thought. She was in good relations with the barkeep. She spotted her targets from a good distance away, a group of young folk, full of hope and secrets. Mandova was well known across all the lands as a place to begin a walk to fame. These young people had no idea about what had been set in motion and the part that they would play. She yawned again before disappearing from sight, a smile on her face. They would soon learn. Oh yes. They would soon learn.
The Wyvern Inn was bustling with activity today. Many of the patrons were well remembered and well liked but it was not uncommon to see a new influx of people and faces. This new group of hopeful adventurers where no different. When they entered one by one, it was obvious that they were each traveling alone. It was strange to see some very exotic races, however. A Sulis was not something that you saw often, her glaive a spectacle to behold. The Tiefling, adorned in simple clothes and a heavy, nine-ring sword at his back turned some heads but not many. Sitting alone at a table, drinking a deep red wine, a young man with pale skin and long, crimson hair watched everything with a bored gaze. A buxom, barbarian-like woman of chocolate skin sat at the bar, unashamed that her chest was on display for all to see. The lone samurai also caught many eyes as he relaxed by the fire with a tankard in his hand, the other resting casually on the hilt of his katana. Sitting in the shadows, eyes alert and trusty knife ready, a shifty Half-Elf watched all that happened. The barkeep shook his head, cleaning mugs and taking stock of what he had. Something told him that things were about to get more interesting than he would ever bargain for. The sun began to sink into the sky and the air in the tavern became a little more tense.
Suddenly, the door burst open and a strangely dressed man stumbled in. His eyes were mad but his smile full of joy. His brightly colored, patched jester clothing looked thin and was stained by drink in some places made every head turn. In his arms was a bundle of worn fliers that he set at every table and tried to put into everyone's hands. He babbled endlessly, none of it making any sense but the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. The fool stood in the center of the room with the remaining fliers in his hands, face appearing gaunt in the lanterns' glow. Without warning, he threw them into the air, laughing hysterically.
"You'll all come, one day! All of you will come to the Carnival of Wonders! You'll regret it if you don't!" Still laughing, the fool walked out as if drunk, his hysteric giggles echoing in the tavern. For a moment, no one moved and many jumped when the door was swung open again. A rather large man walked in, his form made intimidating by a heavy, black cloak. The cowl was pulled down to hide his features but the scowl on his face was felt by everyone. He quickly gathered the fliers and tossed them into the fire. Once he was certain all of them were burning, he turned back to the assembled patrons.
"There is nothing to worry about. Resume your activities. Should anyone be interested in seeking out the Carnival may go to the mayor in the morning. You would be well paid for your troubles." Without another word, the man swept out of the tavern. A breath of relief was shared by the regular patrons while the newcomers stared around them. The Sulis woman nudged the patron to her left.
"What's this about then?" She asked, eyes on the burning fliers. The man took a deep swig from his tankard before answering.
"Beena problem for a long time. Crazy coot come in an' the 'ole thing repeats itself. Lossa good folk been goin' missin' of late."
"My own cuz went af'er it," another chimed in, trying not to stare at the dark-skinned woman's exposed chest. "Ne'er came back."
"'Course not," a drunk woman snorted, ale sloshing over the lip of her tankard. "Tha' coz noone comes home goin' afer that."
"Gold is good, though," the barkeep said, wiping down the counter. "Wander doesn't lie. Not sure why the mayor has taken an interest but it is what it is." A rumble of disapproval and agreement rose up all round the tavern. The samurai rose, his tankard empty and set it on the counter.
"The night is young but the time has come to rest. How much for a room?"
"Two silver and a name."
"I am Dante von Wulfe," he replied, passing over the two silver. The barkeep directed him to a room on the third floor and, without a word, went up the creaking stairs. The pale-skinned man and the chocolate beauty rose from their seats to do the same.
"I am Tanquaray and I know all of you are staring at my boobies." Tanquaray's gaze fell on every red-faced man in the tavern. "It's okay. I don't care."
"Ma'am, your room is that way on the first floor," the barkeep stated, trying not to look himself. Tanquaray smiled and went of to her room, hips swaying back and forth. The pale-skinned man seemed unaffected, putting his two silver onto the counter. Though his stature was not intimidating, his sheer height was enough. Around his eyes were odd, scale-like markings but the barkeep ignored them.
"Dracoro Sanguine. Now, tell me. What of this incident?"
"Simple enough," the bartender replied, taking the silver and placing it in his pouch. "The man in the crazy colors tries to promote this Carnival. He claims it is a place of the ultimate peace. Of old hates cast aside many and merriment runs rampant. Sounds to good to be true, if you ask me." Draco frowned slightly, absorbing this information. When he had been given his directions, he left without another word. The Sulis placed her payment down on the counter.
"Elwis. Just Elwis."
"Very well, Lady Elwis. First floor, follow the hall. Fifth door down."
"Thank you." When the man picked her her coin, he found an extra silver piece. The Half-Elf placed the coin and a small piece of parchment down, his expression calculative.
"Ah. Your name is Kyrie? Second floor. Third door on the left, back of the hall." Kyrie said nothing and simply went on his way. The barkeep shook his head and turned back to his remaining customers. Kyrie did nothing save for wandering up the stairs. The bartender turned to shout into the kitchen, the goblin tongue rolling of his lips. Angry words came streaming back at him, but only with halfhearted meaning. Several of the patrons chuckled, a meager understanding of the language enough for the to hear the name calling. His eyebrow went up when the Halfling woman entered, a side smile on her lips. The two didn't need to say a word as he prepared the tankard he kept aside just for her. The rest of the bar watched her out of the corners of their eyes, wondering what had brought this peculiar character into town.
"What brings you in here, minstrel?" The liquid he poured into her goblet seemed to steam with an ethereal mist. The woman's eyes glittered with delight as she took the steaming goblet and downed the contents. Some of the ruby-red liquid lingered on her lips and the mist curled out of her nose, making her seem like a dragon. A second tankard was already in her hand when the first was set down.
"I came to simply observe," she said coyly, nearly draining the second tankard in one swallow. The bartender snorted with laughter and many other laughs echoed around him.
"Trouble always follows you, Ardamine."
"Thomas, you wound me," the woman protested. "I bring stories and tales of heroes."
"Ah yes," Tom the bartender agreed, "and with those stories comes trouble. What sorry souls have you following their trail?"
"I don't recall you being a sorry soul when I swept you up into the world of adventures and treasure," she grinned over the rim of the tankard. Her eyes swept over the comely tavern and inn in the most interesting of towns. Tom felt a smile tug at his lips but turned to begin preparing to close down for the evening.
"What are you here for, Halfling?" His tone was mocking, his respect for the tiny woman not letting him insult her with the word many considered no better than cattle.
"Well, that," she drank the rest of her tankard, letting the smoke curl out of her mouth as she spoke the last words. "You'll just have to find out, won't you?" Tom shook his head in disdain before turning back to face her.
"You've gotten many a hopeful adventurer either killed or made them famous. Just what do you have up your sleeve, Enukae?" Enukae Ardamine only smiled, mystery and mischief in her eyes. When she rose from the bar, she simply vanished. Tom stared at the place she had been for a moment before storing everything and barking commands to his kitchen help. Despite the light way of his long and dear friend, he knew things were about to change for this sleepy town.