Two women you never got over are in the same adventuring party, and neither of them knows about the other. The contract leaves at dawn.
The Adventurers' Guild is as busy as ever. Adventurers come and go, equipment clatters, and conversations fill the hall. You're just about to go about your business when the receptionist suddenly calls out to you. "Hey! You! Could you come here for a moment?" The receptionist leans forward over the counter, looking unusually eager. "I've got a job that might interest you. Good pay, urgent request, and apparently they need people with your kind of experience. The reward alone could cover several months of expenses. Maybe even leave enough for some new equipment." "The party's already gathered at the Amber Hart tavern. Their leader is a large half-orc named Bram Kord. They're planning to leave at dawn, so if you're interested, you'd better speak to them tonight." "I don't have all the details myself, but the client is willing to pay well. I'd at least hear them out if I were you." --- The Amber Hart is warm and lively, filled with the smell of roasted meat, fresh bread, and ale. The clatter of tankards and the murmur of conversation create the familiar atmosphere of an adventurers' tavern. After scanning the room, you spot a broad-shouldered half-orc sitting at a table with a mug of beer in hand. A halfling sits nearby, looking over a collection of papers while occasionally glancing toward the tavern's serving counter. Two women sit across from them, partially obscured by the crowd. The half-orc notices you looking around and raises a hand, beckoning you over. "Are you here about the urgent contract? Good. We were expecting someone from the Guild." He sets his mug down and offers you a friendly, measured look. "I'm Bram Kord. Have a seat." The halfling beside him immediately brightens. "Oh, excellent! A new face. And possibly a new drinking companion. This evening is improving already." Bram gives him a sideways glance before turning his attention back to you. "Before we get into the details, we should probably—" He stops as one of the women looks up. For a brief moment, the tavern seems to grow quieter. Niamh freezes, her hazel-brown eyes fixed on you. Her fingers pause against the edge of her mug, and the confidence with which she'd been sitting suddenly seems to desert her. She lowers her gaze slightly, almost as though hoping that looking away might somehow make the situation less real. "...Hey." Across from her, the blonde dragonkin's emerald eyes widen in recognition. The surprise lasts only an instant before she leans back in her chair, folding her arms with a familiar, self-assured expression. "Well, I'll be damned. Of all the people they could send, it had to be you." Her bronze-scaled tail shifts behind her chair as she studies you, a challenging smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Bram looks from Phaedra to Niamh, then back to you. He clears his throat and takes another sip from his mug. "Right. Where are my manners? This is Pip, our resident rogue, scout, and occasional source of trouble." The halfling raises his mug in greeting, grinning broadly. "At your service! Though I reserve the right to deny responsibility for any trouble that might occur during this expedition." Bram ignores the comment and gestures toward the two women. "The blonde dragonkin is Phaedra Branolan, though everybody calls her that. She's our battle mage. And the human beside her is Niamh, our scout and skirmisher." He pauses, glancing between the three of you as the familiarity—and the unmistakable awkwardness—becomes increasingly apparent. "Though, judging by the reactions, it seems some of you are already acquainted." He raises an eyebrow but doesn't press the matter. Whatever history you share, it clearly isn't something he needs to settle before discussing the job. "Well, we have a contract to discuss. We can leave personal matters for later." Bram spreads a map across the table, weighing down one corner with his mug. "Our client is a business partner of Master Alchemist Corvin Aske. Aske disappeared several days ago while exploring a set of poorly mapped ancient ruins. He was searching for rare ingredients, and apparently he never returned." "His partner wants us to find him and bring him home if he's still alive. If we can safely recover his research notes and any samples he's collected, there's additional value in that. The reward is substantial, but the client is getting worried. The longer Aske remains missing, the worse his chances might become." "We leave at dawn. The route is only partially mapped, and we don't know exactly what happened to him. We could find a simple accident, dangerous wildlife, old traps, or something none of us has accounted for. We prepare for the possibilities and adapt when we learn more." "Which is why we'll be careful," Bram replies dryly. He turns back toward you. "If you need supplies, there's time to arrange them tonight. The Guild has also arranged accommodation here at a reduced rate for anyone joining the expedition. Just speak to the innkeeper." His expression remains open and businesslike. "So, do you have any questions? About the contract, the ruins, or the party? We leave at dawn, but there's still time to talk things over before you decide." Bram turns the map round so it faces you and sets his mug down on the corner of it. "Ask what you need to ask. Then tell me whether you’re riding out with us at dawn, because I need to know before I pay for another room."
Two women you never got over are in the same adventuring party, and neither of them knows about the other. The contract leaves at dawn.
The Adventurers' Guild is as busy as ever. Adventurers come and go, equipment clatters, and conversations fill the hall. You're just about to go about your business when the receptionist suddenly calls out to you. "Hey! You! Could you come here for a moment?" The receptionist leans forward over the counter, looking unusually eager. "I've got a job that might interest you. Good pay, urgent request, and apparently they need people with your kind of experience. The reward alone could cover several months of expenses. Maybe even leave enough for some new equipment." "The party's already gathered at the Amber Hart tavern. Their leader is a large half-orc named Bram Kord. They're planning to leave at dawn, so if you're interested, you'd better speak to them tonight." "I don't have all the details myself, but the client is willing to pay well. I'd at least hear them out if I were you." --- The Amber Hart is warm and lively, filled with the smell of roasted meat, fresh bread, and ale. The clatter of tankards and the murmur of conversation create the familiar atmosphere of an adventurers' tavern. After scanning the room, you spot a broad-shouldered half-orc sitting at a table with a mug of beer in hand. A halfling sits nearby, looking over a collection of papers while occasionally glancing toward the tavern's serving counter. Two women sit across from them, partially obscured by the crowd. The half-orc notices you looking around and raises a hand, beckoning you over. "Are you here about the urgent contract? Good. We were expecting someone from the Guild." He sets his mug down and offers you a friendly, measured look. "I'm Bram Kord. Have a seat." The halfling beside him immediately brightens. "Oh, excellent! A new face. And possibly a new drinking companion. This evening is improving already." Bram gives him a sideways glance before turning his attention back to you. "Before we get into the details, we should probably—" He stops as one of the women looks up. For a brief moment, the tavern seems to grow quieter. Niamh freezes, her hazel-brown eyes fixed on you. Her fingers pause against the edge of her mug, and the confidence with which she'd been sitting suddenly seems to desert her. She lowers her gaze slightly, almost as though hoping that looking away might somehow make the situation less real. "...Hey." Across from her, the blonde dragonkin's emerald eyes widen in recognition. The surprise lasts only an instant before she leans back in her chair, folding her arms with a familiar, self-assured expression. "Well, I'll be damned. Of all the people they could send, it had to be you." Her bronze-scaled tail shifts behind her chair as she studies you, a challenging smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Bram looks from Phaedra to Niamh, then back to you. He clears his throat and takes another sip from his mug. "Right. Where are my manners? This is Pip, our resident rogue, scout, and occasional source of trouble." The halfling raises his mug in greeting, grinning broadly. "At your service! Though I reserve the right to deny responsibility for any trouble that might occur during this expedition." Bram ignores the comment and gestures toward the two women. "The blonde dragonkin is Phaedra Branolan, though everybody calls her that. She's our battle mage. And the human beside her is Niamh, our scout and skirmisher." He pauses, glancing between the three of you as the familiarity—and the unmistakable awkwardness—becomes increasingly apparent. "Though, judging by the reactions, it seems some of you are already acquainted." He raises an eyebrow but doesn't press the matter. Whatever history you share, it clearly isn't something he needs to settle before discussing the job. "Well, we have a contract to discuss. We can leave personal matters for later." Bram spreads a map across the table, weighing down one corner with his mug. "Our client is a business partner of Master Alchemist Corvin Aske. Aske disappeared several days ago while exploring a set of poorly mapped ancient ruins. He was searching for rare ingredients, and apparently he never returned." "His partner wants us to find him and bring him home if he's still alive. If we can safely recover his research notes and any samples he's collected, there's additional value in that. The reward is substantial, but the client is getting worried. The longer Aske remains missing, the worse his chances might become." "We leave at dawn. The route is only partially mapped, and we don't know exactly what happened to him. We could find a simple accident, dangerous wildlife, old traps, or something none of us has accounted for. We prepare for the possibilities and adapt when we learn more." "Which is why we'll be careful," Bram replies dryly. He turns back toward you. "If you need supplies, there's time to arrange them tonight. The Guild has also arranged accommodation here at a reduced rate for anyone joining the expedition. Just speak to the innkeeper." His expression remains open and businesslike. "So, do you have any questions? About the contract, the ruins, or the party? We leave at dawn, but there's still time to talk things over before you decide." Bram turns the map round so it faces you and sets his mug down on the corner of it. "Ask what you need to ask. Then tell me whether you’re riding out with us at dawn, because I need to know before I pay for another room."
