Iron Heroes - Legends of Mitterion (IC Thread)

Ustrus is a typical large Aquilonian city in south of the land just west of the Iron woods. With pirates roaming the Western Sea many merchants prefer to travel by land and most heading from north to south or vice versa have stopped in Ustrus to sell their wares or to rest. A guarded road leads from Ustrus to several coastal cities in the west making it an ideal stop for merchants who sell almost everything from fine silks to exquisite wines and precious gems.

Ustrus has a darker side too though. Many criminals hide in the poorer parts of Ustrus hoping to escape from the law, while others see the rich merchants as ripe for the plucking.
As such many merchants are willing to pay good coin to those offering to protect their lives and more importantly their riches.


The evening's sky is filled with the brilliant red light of the setting sun. The air is humid and hot as black clouds gather at the horizon in the east. This summer has been especially hot and dry so the rain is welcomed by all, but especially the farmers.
Ustrus' streets are still for the most part. City guards patrol the streets while servants are busy lighting torches in the center and the wealthier parts of the city.

Light and laughter fall through an open window of the "Just Sword" tavern. Two musicians playing pipes are entertaining the guests while a pretty young woman serves cups and small amphorae of wine. The Tavern keeper pushes aside the curtain leading to the kitchen holding a plate of olives and bread signaling to a young boy to take it from him. The boy hurries the plate over to a table with three men, all wearing scale mail. They all seem to be enjoying themselves, laughing loudly and quickly emptying cups of wine. They all look like men of the Isle of Phyratus, mostly likely from Atria, with their short and curly, black hair. The tallest of the three has short, black beard and seems to be the strongest of them. He is laughing the loudest and wine drips from his chin as he slams down an empty cup.
By the looks of it they are all mercenaries looking for work but at the moment wine and entertainment is all they seem to have on their mind.

A figure in a black cloak sits alone at a table near the open window. He absent mindedly runs his finger around the edge of his cup while he watches the muscians play. His skin is fair and his long hair is a dirty blonde most likely a traveller from Lasat or maybe even further north.

A large, brutish fellow sits at a table near the door to the kitchen, together with two friends who although nearly two meters tall seem much smaller sitting next to him. They are playing dice and occassionaly one of them will shout out in delight or anger.

Pushing open the door of the tavern is Kadoch. Not overly tall, the young man just somehow appears.. Massive. Of course, the fact that he's clad in somewhat rare banded mail helps the impression. The shield, crossbow and hammer complete the image of the mercenary. Of course, his young-looking face and somewhat.. Naive expression take a bit away from said image.

After looking around the place and seeing no one he recognize (not overly surprising, as this is but his third visit to the place), he locates an empty place to sit. Not in the corner, yet not at the largest available table, he attempts to catch the eye of a waitress, and signals for an ale.

A few minutes later the door swings open again to admit another patron to the tavern. He is hidden in a deep crimson cloak for protection from the coming storm. However, once inside, he throws back his cloak and reveals the darkened skin and hair of a southerner. He carries a halberd, and his cloak is pinned with the symbol of some god or other.

Noticing the armor clad youth at a table, Khepra goes to join him. Over a few drinks shared in the past, Kadoch has seemed like a decent enough sort. For his part, Khepra doesn't drink much, but he's decent enough at picking up a round now and again, so most people tolerate his presence. He nods his greetings to Kadoch and props his halberd against the table before taking a seat.

"Ugly night."

Kemal

The door opens once more, showing clouds growing darker over the horizon. The newcomer's swarthy complexion pegs him as another southerner, something not unusual in a trading town. Weighed down by a saddlebag, the plainly dressed young man carries a dagger at his belt as well as a crossbow.

Scanning the room, Kemal notices an empty corner table with a good vantage point from which to keep an eye on the entrance. Crossing the open space, he settles into his table. A more sedate look around the shows both familiar and unfamiliar faces. His eyes soon settle on the gaming taking place by the kitchen door.

As the serving wench approaches, a smile appears on Kemal's face.

"I'll have some wine and something hot to eat."

"You should not take wine." tells a voice behind Kemal. "Or you should not gamble tonight." A large Vahenian stands in teh door. His sword can barely pass in the doorway, being huge and doesn't seem made for a man but for a giant. But the man looks strong enough to easily wield it. His body is covered with tatoos, and wear a few simple clothing with a few fur decoration that seems to have seen many hard days.

Erik smile at the gambler. "Last time I played you after you have drink. You were not even a challenge. But thanks for the money." he tells, with a smiles, putting his hand on his heavy purse. He walks and find a place near a wall, and put his sword next to the wall and sits. He nods at Kadosh, who is sitting on the table beside. "A large plate of meet, and some ale." he asks to the innkeeper.

Kemal grins at the large Northener. He recalled that hangover. It had been memorable, although waking up with empty pockets had put a damper on his mood for a while. Well, you win some, you loose some.

"Big words from a big man. Care for a rematch?"

As he speaks, the young Zamoran takes out a set of well-worn dice cups. Glancing at the heavily armored man besides Erik:


"You and your friend are welcome to join, Kadoch. I'm still trying to win back what I lost betting against you."

Kadoch smiles, somewhat shyly.

"I.. Don't think so. I've seen some people gamble before, and I've noticed that the same ones tend to win more often than the others. I prefer to earn my money slowly but steadily instead of losing it all in one go."

Looking around the room, he relaxes a little bit.

"Talking of which.. Have any of you heard anything about some mercenaries or guards being needed somewhere? I don't really have the fundage to just stay in town doing nothing for very long."

"I heard they need people on the south coast to handle some pirates. Just rumors, but I'll try to find a caravan that emply some guards and which goes in that direction. All this lands make me land-sick. I've left the sea for too long." replies Erik to the blacksmith. "You've done a good job with my equipment. I would be happy to have you soming with me, so I wouldn't bother find a new blacksmith."

"Gah. I hate caravan duty. Leagues and leagues of swallowing dust. Still, I grow tired of these pale Aquilonian women and cold weather. I have a yearning for southern lands".

Turning towards the taciturn Khatarian, Kemal smiled and added:

"Khepra, isn't it? You hear anything about any southbound caravans?"

Khepra slowly shakes his head.

"No, I haven't been paying attention to the caravans. Still, I know how you feel, it would be nice to return to the south once more. Perhaps if we are lucky, we'll all end up in the same train. It's good to have drinking companions for the road."