The rains beat down mercilessly upon the ancient roof of Cosmot Inn, putting the layer of sealant to the test once more. The skies were a sea of darkness, illuminated into ghastly statues of dark clouds by the horrendous lightning that struck at intervals and was accompanied by deafening thunder. It was just another winter storm to the inhabitants of the northern region. The filthy, dwarven innkeeper stared out the window of the inn into the rain while wiping a glass clean.
There weren't many people occupying the inn at this time of the night. A few drunks lay about the bar asleep, a couple of grimy miners talked quietly to the inn keeper. These were all villagers residing from Cosmot. However, a small cluster of coarse, harsh men, bound in polluted, leather amour and mud caked boots were huddle around a small table playing cards.
"Mercenaries…" whispered the innkeeper to one of the miners."That lot be nothing' but trouble I tell ye.'
"Indeed," echoed one of the miners. The mercenaries were all shapes and sizes. They consisted of a young human and a slightly older one, a half orc and two dwarves. One of the mercenaries stood up from the table and strode purposefully over to the notice board. He was a young man of around twenty summers. He was a rather skinny to average build and has light brown hair that dangled over his clever brown eyes. He wore a light, studded, leather tunic covered in a layer of dehydrated dirt. His legs were caked in dry grime. His name was Arturo, a young mercenary who had recently joined this adventuring band. He glanced quickly across the noticeboard, scanning its contents. All of a sudden he smiled, ripped a large note from the corner and jogged back to the group.
"Gentleman, I think I've found our big break," he said smiling.
"Raise yer 15 and I'll throw in me boot," the voice was from Val, a crusty half-orc of average age. He had a huge build, wore heavy metal armour in even worse condition than his comrade, Arturo. He had far too many teeth missing and he had a large nose which stood out. His face was covered in scars from the many battles he had fought.
"You can't throw in your shoe! Fool! It's hardly worth anything!" shouted Julius, a slightly crazed dwarf who had experienced one too many battles. Next to his chair was propped a gleaming axe, the only object of any value he owned.
"Julius is right Val!" laughed Thor, an extremely old yet unusually fit dwarven warrior. A large white beard tumbled down his chest like a waterfall. His eyes shone like two stars in the night sky.
"Hey! Listen! I know it's been weeks since we've had a job but I think I've found one boys!" said Arturo. "Hey what do you think Zan?"
For the first time in the last few hours Zanatos, the band's leader, looked up.
"Listen fool! You either call me by my real name or you can leave!"
"Sorry Zanatos." Zanatos was the leader of the band of mercenaries. He was a very quite person, didn't talked much and nobody asked him any personal questions. However, he was an excellent fighter and had at least once saved each of the mercenary's lives so they all respected him. Zanatos wore broad, black, studded leather amour riddled with gleaming metallic plates in all the vitals. He had an average build and average height for a human. His thick platinum white hair fell down over his face and the back was tied in a short ponytail. The hair bore a strange contrast as the rest of him was a midnight black. His eyes were swirling pools of dark purple and his face was completely pale except for several scars that carved across his face. Dark black shadows somehow lurked underneath his eyes and at times it looked as if his eye sockets were bare.
"Well?" grunted Val. Arturo cleared his throat and scanned the note, made from beautiful, creamy paper and written in gleaming, emerald ink.
"It's from a mage. He's looking for five to ten brave adventurers to accompany him on some sort of quest into the Cosmot swamps," replied Arturo. Thor jumped up intently and strode over to where Arturo was standing to get a peek at the notice.
"Hmmm, I hear them swamps be festering with the undead, lads," he said while looking at the paper with uncertainty.
"You're not serious are you?" echoed Arturo, a slight unease in his tone.
"Aah! Undead? Hordes of chaos just itching to be sliced apart by my blade?" laughed Val, obviously excited. Zanatos chuckled.
"The swamps?" he chimed, "Ever wonder why there's a seven o'clock curfew at this town?" he said viciously. "Just look at the bolts on the door," he said eyeing the fortified inn door," And the bars on the windows. What about the wall surrounding the village? This place is plagued by something. It reeks of evil. I sensed it as soon as we arrived." Arturo eyed the door with uncertainty.
"Well the note here says that the mage will offer a payment of let's see… No this must be a mistake…" Arturo's eyes grew wide with anticipation. "One-thousand gold p-p-pieces…" Julius fell out of his chair. Val sprayed all the dwarven ale he was drinking all over the table. Thor looked to the sky as if in prayer and even Zanatos attempted a smile.
"Undead or no undead I don't care anymore! Cosmot swamps it is!" laughed Thor.