"...and that's my tale!", said Fetch with a long sigh.

"so ...let me get this straight...you are named for your ability to fetch water?", said a half confused, half-drunk Clovis.

"So, you gave up the chance to be in the honor guard of the champion of the boar? for a GIRL?...you only met briefly twice?.", asked a dull eyed Ymir," how sweet", she continued with feigned admiration.

"Great story...I love the part about the unicorns.", Hank muttered as he was watching the busty barmaid serve drinks.

The four companions had successfully reached Mammoth Keep. Fetch expected another outpost like the previous ones he visited. Sort of like the plateau but with a few more houses. Instead, it was a massive keep, larger than any building Fetch could imagine, surrounded by at least 100 houses and buildings, behind a solid stone wall. There were more people than Fetch had ever seen in his life here. There was so much, that houses and buildings were built outside the wall. . . Master Logan paid them a large bonus for their hard work, and wished them all the best. Fetch served as a guard for only 20 days but was paid 30 gold. He considered it a good start to his adventuring career.

Hank made it known immediately he was going to stay with the caravan. The other three immediately made their way to the keep to inquire about serving the local lady, who was said to be a patron to adventurers. However the guard told them the positions were filled and they were turned away at the gate. Fetch noticed an interesting job poster, and grabbed it. After some angry words and threats by Ymir to the guards , Fetch and Clovis dragged her to the first tavern they could find to cool her off.

The shack the locals called a tavern, was a dive compared to the Last Inn. There were an assortment of chairs, crates and barrels that people sat on. The floor was filthy, and the drinks were all watered down. Having the god of war and drinks as a neighbor had its advantages thought Fetch.

The friends settled into an empty table an ordered pitcher after pitch of the local spit water.

"A toast to Otis, Frank, Brandy...and all the others that fell", said Clovis loudly, trying to be overheard in the loud tavern.

The companions raised their glasses silently before downing their drinks.

After 3 pitchers of ale, 2 bottles of wine, a decanter of brandy and countless shots of some vile nameless brew, Fetch started to feel light headed. His companions on the otherhand were already dazed or in a stupor. They started telling their tales of their past.

Hank story was rather simple . Apparently he was from a small knightly order known as the order of the Crab. His childhood was rather boring, all he did was follow his brother around. He learned the same skills growing up as his brother, and even picked up the same combat maneuvers and fighting tricks as his brother. All his life he awaited the moment his brother died so he could continue his legacy. Fetch thought it was rather morbid, but apparently thats how twins operate.

Ymir on the other hand, started boasting how she was the worlds greatest adventurer, trained by the greatest weapon masters in the land, wielding the finest weapons and armor made from the finest blacksmiths in the world. Fetch felt he heard this speech before , he chuckled at the thought of Lord and Ymir in a boasting contest. Apparently Ymir was from a minor clan in the mountains of Nazag Narg, the home of the mountain dwarves. She was the youngest of the ruling family , which unfortunately for her meant little to no inheritance. So instead of waiting around for a rich suitor, she set off to find her own fortune and fame in the world. Perhaps one day returning and showing off to her elders. Oh...and she was going to buy a pony...a big pony, preferably pink, to do a victory lap around her clan's estates, just to make everyone jealous.

Clovis was apparently an orphan , much like Fetch. He grew up living in the poor part of Karlstown, with his mothers remaining loyal servants . He didn't know his parents, but apparently they were nobles who supported the wrong side of the Grom Civil War. His mother was a noble from the old house of Myer, and went into hiding after they lost the Civil war. She eventually fell ill after giving birth and her remaining servants took over his care and raised Clovis. His father was from Grom City apparently, and was banished/driven out by King Alphonso. Clovis still doesn't know what happened to his father, some stories are told that the exiles were slowly hunted down and slain in the wilderness by assassins from Alphonso. Others say that they fled to the mythical Isle of Dawn. Lastly he was told a group of them fled to mighty Thyatis to seek asylum, but were imprisoned by Emperor Thincol. His servants tried the best to raise him as a proper noble, but a lack of funds made that a difficult task. He took up the art of the artificer , because that's where he thought the future laid, but over time he realized the real money was in adventuring. However, he's still hadn't made that big score yet to restore his house to its former glory.

Another round of drinks were ordered. Things started to go down hill from there. Fetch remembered Hank and Clovis trying to toss Ymir. To see how far they can throw a dwarf. Some guy got in his face and then some yelling. A drinking contest. Some more drinks. Some big breasts. More drinking , a fist to his face. Someone was set on fire. A beautiful face with mesmerizing yellow eyes . More fists to his face.

Fetch awoke in a bed. It was similar to the bed he laid in after the bandits almost killed him in on the plateau. His body and face hurt. His head was pounding. In the other room he could hear some off key humming. He struggled to focus.

His hand was bandaged and he noticed some stitch work on his shoulder. he realized he was mostly undressed.

"My stuff!", he realized. and tried to spring up ..only to hit his head on the headboard.

"Oh your up,"said the humming voice in a deep strange accent. A tall , foreign looking woman dressed in a clean white shirt and simple cloth pants. She had a muscular athletic body with modest hips and breasts. Fetch guessed she was in her early 20s. a few years older then himself. She moved gracefully though, her movements were similar to a dancers, Fetch was mesmerized. Her face was similar to the one in his jumbled memories from last night, although now with a clearer mind he saw she wasn't as pretty and her features seemed hardened and angular. She had piercing yellow eyes, and a oval face with light brown almost golden skin. Her hair was a light reddish brown that was slightly longer then shoulder length. She entered the room, while apparently fixing and braiding her hair. She wasn't the most beautiful woman Fetch had ever seen, but there was something alluring that he found about her.

"Relax, one moment please ,"she said in genuine embarrassment, she retreated back to the other room and continued to talk," sorry for the trouble from last night. Im sure your friends are worried about you. But there are some questions I have to ask...If that's ok?".Her voice was deep and throaty but it was also meek and unsure.

Fetch noticed on the nearby chair , lied his equipment. He slowly reorientated himself and pulled himself out of the bed and started to put it on. His coin purse was empty. Did I just get robbed or did I spend it all. A quick tally of last nights drinks and entertainment confirmed his second suspicion.

"You took quite a beating last night. I dont think it was a good idea to get into a drinking contest with a band of barbarians, and then calling them pussies when they lost. That was really brave or foolish though. It was a pretty good fight your comrades put up, but they were stomping and kicking you into the glass pretty good. I got you out, before the fight ended. It didnt look like they were going to stop they were going to mess you up some more.

On the table next to the chair. Several blades were lain on a red silk sheet. Fetch assumed from the whetstone on the table they were recently sharpened by his host. 4 daggers, a rapier, one of those parrying main gauche daggers, a short hollow tube, some darts , a hand crossbow, a elegant elven bow and a long sword covered with runes seemingly wrapped in a low flickering fire . Even without touching them, he could tell they were of exquisite craftsmanship. The sword , despite Fetch's unfamiliarity with the arcane, seemed almost alive with magical power. The runes and the way wisps of fire would occasionally flare from the blade was hypnotic.

"So I dragged you to my room. That wasn't easy ...Sorry if I gave you some more bumps on the way.", she said with a nervous laugh," I gave you a healing potion and mended the wounds that it didn't heal. I know some magic, but my skill with it isn't so good . Sorry Sorry.", she repeated sounding genuinely embarrassed.

She reentered the room, she was now dressed in heavy leathers and furs. She must be from the south Fetch thought, not use to the "cold". Which was a shame because the armor was less then flattering for her form. Her hair was done up in a thick braids. Which hung losely on her shoulder . Fetch saw warrior women dress their hair this way, although in this instance he thought her hair would look better loose. Fetch thought she looked like a scribe then an adventurer.

Fully dressed, she seemed less then remarkable.

"Oh...don't worry about those, I'm not dangerous ",as she saw Fetch gaze upon her weapons."I wear them mostly for show , you know , to present a dangerous image so people dont pick on me.", she said once again in her embarrassed tone.

She sheathed her weapons and then strapped the rapier to her belt , and let it dangle comfortably and in full view, then slid the daggers in her boots and on her hip. She handled the weapons expertly thought Fetch, no wasted movements. The crossbow she place on her back. And the runic sword , just disappeared...Fetch wasn't sure where she put it, but it wasn't visible anywhere.

"Oh ...forgive me...my name is Tyris . I'm a bard from the Grand Duchy , not a very good one unfortunately. I will be the first to admit , I'm totally out of place in this harsh land, but I wasn't always traveling alone. I was with my leige the great Roland, "she paused looking a hint of recognition in Fetchs face " , chronicling his adventures for the last few years , but he was lost in a snow storm. Or I was lost...I'm not sure what happened it was a big storm. Then the wolves came, so maybe he circled back , but I left by then . But its no use second guessing , the bottom line is we were separated...", she paused.

"Sorry Im rambling..let me begin again. My name is Tyris . I am seeking my Liege lord Roland who was separated from me in a recent snow storm. I'm not sure if hes alive or dead, but I believe you can help answer some questions pertaining to him. I will pay for this information if it leads to our reunion . I implore you to answer my questions honestly . ", she said in a speech she praticed.

Fetch , wasn't quite what to make of this nervous unsure woman. He heard bards were suppose to be confident and charismatic. She didn't seem confident at all. She looked more like a lightly armored fighter or a rogue. Maybe it was an act. He decided to nod and continued to listen.

"My question is this, where and when did you get that amulet.", asked Tyris meekly.

Fetch took a second, to try to figure out what she was talking about. Then it dawned on him, she was referring to the talisman that Cook gave him. It was an ornate holy symbol of Rawk. The god of soldiers and battle. The craftsmanship was nice, but it was made from bronze and iron. Nothing too remarkable he thought.

"Oh this thing? I got it from my mentor Cook, on the great plateau, hmm about 20 days ago?...err did you want to buy it? It has some emotional value to me , but not really that much. If you want it so bad, we can arrange something." , Fetch didn't know why he said that. Shopkeeper taught him never let the other party in your transaction know how you feel about the merchandise. Something about this girl he thought, she had that sexy, innocent , naive thing going for her.

"No", she said with a sigh , clearly disappointed." That holy symbol. My master told me there were only 3 like it. One that he wore, one that his mistress wore, and one that her master wore. I half expected , that you retrieved it from a frozen corpse, or you bought it from a scavenger recently. I guess my master was wrong or maybe my appraisal skills aren't as good as they need to be. "

"You trust my word like that? What if I'm lying to hide my criminal ways?", Fetch asked playfully.

"Oh , but you aren't ...I could tell something that simple.", she said with a confident smile. The first sign of confidence Fetch had seen from her. "I'm sorry for troubling you. If this was given to you 20 days ago, this is clearly not the same amulet my master had. We have only been seperated for a week. On another note, you said you were from the plateau? The one that towers into the clouds? We tried to reach it a few months ago but could not find it. Could you tell me a bit about it ? if its not too much trouble...", her annoying nervousness returned.

Fetch couldn't resist her request. He told her about the plateau, supposedly raised by the gods. Of the people there and the relative peace he had there. He even told her some anecdotes about the inhabitants.

"Wow...so you left the plateau for a girl? That's very sweet of you." She said in genuine admiration.

Fetch started to protest, he deliberately only mentioned Nara once or twice in his tale.

"We should get you back to your friends , before they assume the worse.", she said.

"Oh? the horrors...I've been kidnapped and nursed to health by a sexy swords woman!", Fetch said teasingly. He would have continued with his attempt at flirting, but stopped when he noticed her turn a deep red and turn away and sighed.

"That was your last lead to your lord wasn't it?", asked Fetch. "Now what are you going to do?"

She hesitated for an uncomfortable moment," I'm not sure,... but I won't give up . My lord was always there for me I won't give up that easily. He's a resourceful man, I'm sure hes ok", she said with a forced smile.

She checked out of the inn. Apparently her cash was running low as well, and couldn't afford to stay at this establishment anymore. They walked to the tavern they were at last night to begin their search. Luckily his friend Clovis had the same idea.

"FETCH! ", Clovis yelled," Oh we thought those barbarians threw you into the lake or something. That wasn't too bright claiming to be the king of the berzerkers, then calling their leader a pussy and kicking him in the nuts like that. ", he said chuckling." who's your friend? ". Fetch noticed that Clovis seemed unimpressed with Tyris. He must be blind or something, Fetch though.

"Oh ..is that what I did? This is Tyris. She was just helping me out. I spent the night in her room", he said boasting. Tyris once again turned red and turned away. mumbling" nothing happened I swear."

Clovis came close to Fetch," look man, you're young and need to brag about your "conquests", but cmon you can do better. She's kind of too old for you and nothing to brag about, it makes you look...kind of pathetic."

Fetch was getting a little annoyed with Clovis, but quickly moved on." Where's everyone else?"

"They are still recovering at master Logan's Camp. He let us stay in one of his wagons last night. Lets goto them.", Clovis said .

Tyris bowed and started to walk away, but Fetch grabbed her arm," I want you to meet to them. You having nothing else planned right now do you? There's something I want to discuss.".

Tyris considered his mysterious offer a second, then said "ok." , curiosity getting the better of her.

Clovis rolled his eyes, at his friend. The beer goggles were still affecting him apparently he thought. Then they walked to Logan's camp.

Ymir eyed the stranger , her head was still hurting from the previous night, but she still had a strong dose of dwarven mistrust. She looked unremarkable, but Ymir was concerned she might have casted a glamor or something on Fetch. Fetch said she was a bard, bards do stuff like that. She chatted with her for a little bit and immediately took a liking to her , and all doubts about her vanished. A master manipulator she was not.

Fetch unrolled a crumpled poster. "Look , here's our situation in a nutshell. We wanted to become adventurers with a patron. That was going to be our golden ticket. That didn't work out. We could all go our separate ways, seek our fortune elsewhere. Hook up with strangers , people you don't know if you could trust or not."

"That's what I was going to do anyways", interrupted Hank. Fetch silenced him with a glare.

"Or... ", he showed his companions the poster.

ATTENTION

Captain Bartog requests a group of professional contractors.

For Monster extermination and trap removal

Applicants should be self starters and can work independently

Inquire within for more details.

"That's your master plan? ", asked Clovis, disappointed.

"I like it ! ", said Hank.

"So , we sneak into the castle and kidnapp this Bartog guy?...are we going to kick him in the nuts or something?" , asked Ymir puzzled.

"ummm..., thanks for the support Hank. ", Fetch said sarcastically to Hank.

" I mean what's adventuring really? disarming traps and killing stuff! So what if we don't have a patron. What are they good for anyways?", continued Fletch.

"A steady source of income, a base of operation, free healing, information, protection from the law, ", Hank interrupted once again.

"Thank you Hank,", replied Fetch even more sarcastically." I mean , no patron means we get a bigger cut of the profits doesn't it? "

Hank was about to answer, but Fetch cut him off, and gave him the "Don't make me hurt you look". "We can do this guys. Look at us we got all the bases covered for an adventuring a group. A tank, A healer, a wizzy , and a rogue. and I've seen most of us in a fight, we can all handle ourselves...what do you say? Lets do this!"

Everyone gave Fetch a blank look. Ymir more blank then the others.

Clovis was the first to speak. " First off, although Ymir is a master of the axe , she can hardly be described as a tank. A tank is a more defensive fighter, Ymir is all offense. she doesnt even own a shield . Secondly, although I'm flattered you think of me as a great wizard or something. Let me stress to you I am not a typical arcane caster. I don't throw fireballs, or charm enemies or scare them to death with unworldly illusions. I cast simple enchantments, and create magic items. but that's very costly, and we don't have any cash. Thirdly ,I'm not sure who your friend is, I'm not even sure if she wants to join us. I think she mentioned she was a bard. Last I checked bards are kind of stealthy, and cunning, but they aren't exactly rogues. They find traps like barbarians, face first. Lastly, although your healing magic is impressive..let me ask you this, which god do you worship? Your healing magic is a secondary skill for you, at best. This is great and all, adventuring with friends , meeting death head on with comrades , but do you guys really want to die , because we have a mismatched party? "

A silence filled the camp.

Ymir was the first to speak," Sure I'm in."

Hank said," Count me in."

Tyris stammered," I have no plans at the moment. I'll go with you , till I can find my lord...if that's all right with the rest of you."

Clovis stared at the rest of them and then relented with a sigh , " Ok...ok...someone has to keep an eye on you guys. Count me in...and Hank weren't you going to go off with the caravan?"