Chapter Text
It Always Starts At A Tavern
The Handsome Daughter was a rather average tavern. Located at the edge of a small village named Stonebarrow, it was often the last warm refuge for a long while for travelers who were passing through.
For the moment, it's patrons were mostly local farmers and tradesmen, with a few travelers who had rented the rooms above for the evening. The tavern keeper, a rather large half-orc, was cleaning a row of steins lined up on the counter while making idle conversation with a few locals who were out for the evening.
Another group, a mix of humans and half-elves, sat at a table in the middle of the tavern, intensely captivated by a card game that they had begun to make more interesting with small wagers. A halfling sat by the fireplace, sipping from an appropriately sized mug while flipping through a hefty book. Not far off, a young half-orc girl wiped at the tables and moved about tidying the room, chatting with a few of the regulars as well.
It was all in all, a relatively peaceful scene.
The bell above the door then jangled, and three new people entered the tavern.
The patrons all looked up to see who these strangers were, the tavern keeper hailing them amicably even as he sized them up. By all rights they didn't look all that unusual. Two human men and an elf woman. Most likely on a pilgrimage if they were traveling as light as it appeared.
The elf woman's hair was wild, curly, and pale blonde. It was tied back with a blue scarf patterned with bright orange flowers, a couple dark feathers tucked safely behind her long ears. Her smile seemed to come easily but there was an intensity to her blue eyes that wasn't hard to miss. She wore a black robe and the traveling gear of some kind of court mage.
One of the human men looked around the tavern curiously, reaching up to straighten his glasses. He had brown, shoulder length, swept back hair and a bare trace of stubble along his jawline. He wore a pair of out of place denim pants beneath his black half-robe. They definitely clashed with the group’s otherwise darker aesthetic.
The last member of the unusual trio was a tall man, who carried himself like a noble. He had a dark complexion and dreads, tied back and adorned with black feathers. He looked around the tavern with a look of mild disdain, taking measure of the rustic scene before him. He tugged at the edge of his half-cape, pursing his lips before speaking.
“I suppose this is the place we were told to be?” he asked with a tone of resignation. The elf woman looked over her shoulder at him and smirked, nodding. She looked rather delighted at their location.
“Yup. Queenie said we'd find who we needed here at a tavern called The Handsome Daughter. Just look at this place! It’s got a great crusty vibe going on!” she said as she gave a perfunctory gaze over the scene before bee-lining toward an empty table.
“Just who exactly are we looking for again?” the man in the glasses asked, his voice low as he followed her, nodding apologetically to a patron whose chair he nearly stumbled over.
“And Lup? Could you please stop calling her Queenie?” the nobleman added, nowhere near as enthused as his elven companion. She waved at the tavern maid to catch her attention before speaking, her voice low.
“We are here looking for some person who goes by the name of ‘Caleb’. Not sure who or what they are but I'm sure we can ask the locals for help. Maybe a few of them can even give us some idea of what we're dealing with in this plane,” she suggested before sitting up to face the half-orc girl who approached their table.
“Hiya, could we get three ales? Whatever is on tap right now, please?” she ordered. The girl looked between the three of them before smiling sweetly and nodding.
“Aye ma'am. Three Redcheek ales coming up. Da?” she called, holding up three fingers to call the order, leaving them back to their conversation. The tavern keeper merely nodded and began to pull the necessary beverages. The nobleman wrinkled his nose and shook his head.
“I would have rather had a decent wine...” he muttered in a sulky tone, looking at the woman in irritation.
“Oh Kravitz, Kravitz, Kravitz. We all know that when you want to blend in and make nice with the locals, you get the local specialty,” she said matter-of-factly. The other man looked on in amusement before shrugging and nodding in agreement. It made sense. ‘Kravitz’ still looked unimpressed but he changed the subject back to the issue at hand.
“So... this ‘Caleb’. He's supposed to know why the all of this trouble we’re dealing with is happening?” he asked. The other man shrugged and glanced around again, taking note of the other patrons around them. They didn’t need unwanted eavesdroppers listening in, even by accident, before speaking up.
“We don't know that for sure yet. All we really have is a name, right? The Raven Queen never said more than that,” the spectacled man sighed before looking to the woman. “Lup, you saw what we had to do to get here, right? It was really weird, even by our standards. Also, why and how would somebody on this side even know to contact the Raven Queen in the first place? Our Raven Queen, I mean,” he asked, removing his glasses to wipe them with his cape sleeve.
Lup shook her head, looking in thought at that point he had brought up.
“I don't know, Barry. Personally I thought planar travel was all but impossible ever since the Day of Story and Song. I mean, not without using a lot of power and even then only temporarily,” she said, pursing her lips. “Regardless, we figure out the ‘why’ first, then we can figure out the ‘how’ afterward. Queenie said this place was the source of all the disruptions in the Astral Plane and Faerún and now we need to fix it,” she sighed, leaning back in her seat.
“The sooner we fix this, the sooner we can get back home and the sooner we can look for-” Kravitz cut in only to be cut off by the sound of the tavern door being slammed open, jolting everybody out of their activities and conversations.
At the entrance of the tavern was a group of men in uniform and heavy armor, heavy blades at their side. Their leader, a hulking man in finer regalia than his companions, approached the tavern keeper with a deep scowl. He bore a very impressive moustache on his ruddy face, his eyes the glinting glare of a man who has seen many years of hard militaristic service. At his side hung a large scabbard sheathing an impressively large blade.
“Oi! By order of the High Lord of Eversummer, we require provisions and stables orc,” he demanded, smacking a fist on the counter. The half-orc tavern keeper squared himself up and faced the man, his gaze narrowing.
“Ain't got room, m'lord. No space for more horses and no food to spare,” he answered gruffly, uncowed by the man. The soldier glowered, his face growing red.
“Did you not HEAR me, brute? I said we require-”
“Provisions and stables. I heard you. I said we have no room,” the orc growled in reply. “Unless you forgot, Captain, this village isn’t under the same restrictions and obligations you got going elsewhere,” the half-orc snarled out tersely.
Their conversation had an intense audience, the patrons watching with wide eyes as the scene unfolded. The other soldiers shifted restlessly, hands on the hilts of their weapons, ready to step in in case things turned ugly.
The darkly clothed trio watched in intrigue as well, the half-orc girl scooting closer to them nervously with their drinks in hand. Subtly, Kravitz leaned over to quietly speak to her.
“Who are those men, miss?" he asked, his jaw tight. She glanced at him quickly and nervously before answering, her voice barely above a squeak.
“Th-those are the Eversummer Guard. They m-must be here for a patrol. B-but they rarely come this far south this time of year,” she answered anxiously, looking to her father who was still staring the Captain down. The large half-orc began to move in order to step out from behind the counter, looming over the soldiers.
“We've already paid our tithe here in full for the year Captain,” he stated darkly. “And I’ve seen no benefit to having you look after our homes here. We still lost a number of towns and homesteads despite your oath to defend us from those… things… out there.”
There was the tell tale sound of blades unsheathing as the Captain of the Guard was approached. One of the patrons, a petite half-elf, piped up nervously.
“Oi, Gerold, keep your temper, mate,” she spoke warningly, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. A few other patrons stood slowly, braced for whatever was going to happen next.
Lup grit her teeth and stood, grabbing a stein of ale and quaffing it down in short order before moving to approach the Captain and his goons. Barry tried to protest but she had clearly made up her mind and there was no stopping her now. He tentatively stood but didn’t follow, looking to Kravitz with a grimace of apprehension.
Of course this was going to happen. Nothing could ever be straightforward and easy in any of their missions. Lup strode forward, all confidence and grace as she moved to face down the group of soldiers and their leader.
“Hey! The proprietor of this establishment here has already said there was no room at the inn so you had best clear on out,” she stated loudly and clearly.
It was enough of a distraction for the soldiers and Gerold to look her way, shocked at her sudden interference. The Captain looked at her with an incredulous expression before snorting and looking somewhat amused at the audacity of this stranger to try to insert herself into the situation.
“This doesn't concern you lass. Not unless you have food and room for our mounts hidden around here somewhere,” he snapped out, his teeth bared in an unfriendly grin. The half-orc man looked at her in bewilderment. Lup, however, wasn’t afraid in the least. In fact, the glint in her eye made her seem almost delighted at the nerve of this man.
“Look, big guy, we're all a little tired and cranky. A whole bunch of us have traveled from a long ways away. But I got a marvelous idea for you. You ever hear of camping?” she asked as she faced him, clearly unafraid. In fact, she looked like she was having fun. The Captain looked at her in confusion but before he could ask what she was talking about, she continued.
“It's great! You go out into the woods, make a few tents, tell a few interesting stories,grow closer as friends-” she began, slowly bringing up her palm, a smirk on her face as her fingertips began to glow.
“-and then you start a big ol' fire!” she finished, a very sudden and wild burst of flame suddenly blasting forth, flashing at the Captain and sending him scrambling back in shock.
It was enough of a surprise that several people screamed and ducked for cover behind counters and tables. There was the crashing of steins hitting the ground, the clatter of chairs being shoved out of the way, the clank of armor as the soldiers all frantically scrambled to leave the inferno that threatened to consume the room. No sooner had Lup cast the spell did she promptly end it before it could seriously cause damage to either the building or it’s remaining occupants.
The Captain, however, had not chosen to flee like his men. After the inital shock, he chose instead to stroke out at his attacker. With a loud roar he struck out at Lup, the large blade at his side unsheathing and bearing down on her at a high speed that would have been impossible to dodge.
That is, impossible had there not suddenly been a screaming yell of “MAGIC MISSILE!” from the back of the room and a blast that sent the Captain flying out of the tavern window as three bright white bolts struck him. Lup herself stepped back in shock at the blast, eyes wide.
Gerold scrambled up from where he had collapsed in shock against the tavern counter, looking at Lup in shock and no small amount of fear.
“M-my tavern! W-what did you do to my tavern? Who are you people?!” he began to yell at her before two dark blurs flew forward at an abnormal speed and ushered Lup out the door amidst the chaos, leaving nothing but upturned chairs and a trail of spectral black feathers behind them.
Barry and Kravitz had rushed from their table after the Captain had been struck, grabbing Lup by each arm and dragging her away before more trouble could be caused by her misplaced sense of justice. She began cursing loudly as she suddenly found herself some ways down the path and away from the village.
“What the hell?! I was going to finish them off!” she snapped, wrenching her arms out of their hold, skidding to a stop and turning as if to head back, glaring at her companions angrily.
Barry shook his head and reached out for her hand to stay her.
“ Lup! We were supposed to head and find our guy! That was it! If you go back there is no salvaging the mission!” he protested desperately, trying to reason with her. Kravitz also moved to cut her pursuit off, looming over her with a look of exasperated anger.
“We were also supposed to be discreet! This was not discreet Lup! This was as far from discreet as you could manage! What the fuck are you thinking?!” he snapped out. Lup scoffed in disbelief.
“Look, those assholes were looking for a challenge and I gave it to them! If we didn’t act, something bad was going to go down anyways!” she snapped right back. “I had it handled just fine too until one of you stepped in with a goddamned Magic Missile!”
At that, Barry and Kravitz stared at her before looking to each other in confusion.
“I didn’t cast Magic Missile. Did you?” Barry asked slowly. Kravitz shook his head with a questioning frown.
“I thought you did,” he replied with a purse of his lips.
“If neither one of you cast that Magic Missile, then who-” Lup began before she was promptly cut off by a small but stern voice behind them.
“I cast that and you three better follow me before you attract even more attention.”
Lup, Barry, and Kravitz turned then to find themselves face-to-face with the halfling who had been reading quietly by the fireplace back at the Handsome Daughter. He looked up at them with crossed arms and an impatiently tapping foot. He had a heavy bag slung over his shoulder, from which a wooden wand peeked out, ready in case he needed to grab and use it again. He glared at them through squinting eyes, looking very frustrated by the whole situation at hand.
“And just who are you supposed to be?” Kravitz asked, straightening himself up as he faced their short-statured saviour, eyes narrowing in suspicion. The halfling rolled his eyes in annoyance before replying in an impatient and terse manner.
“My name’s Caleb! I can get your names later. You three need to follow me now or else we’re going to have to deal with a whole lot more than just some awkward introductions,” he pointed out, glancing over his shoulder where the sounds of the angry and frantic soldiers approaching could be heard. Barry nodded before stepping forward, not willing to make an argument when they had pursuers approaching.
“Cool, I’m with you Caleb. This is a great coincidence and all but I would rather shake a leg and get out of here too,” he said. Lup looked like she wanted to argue but after a few seconds of weighing their options, she relented and moved to follow. Kravitz had no choice but to follow as well, seeing as he was clearly outvoted. Besides, one questionable entity to deal with was better than several back at the tavern.
Without further ado, Caleb turned heel, indicating for them to follow. He ducked down a side path tucked behind a large pasture fence. It was lined with thick, concealing brush, leading away from Stonebarrow and the soldiers. The trio gave one last glance to each other before moving to follow. They didn’t have any trouble at all with keeping pace with the halfling, but now and again they did exchange questioning looks. This was supposed to be their contact?
Eventually, one they were quiet a ways away from the chaos and danger, Lup spoke up, curiosity getting the better of her. Barry and Kravitz had to have been thinking up their own questions as well.
“So, uh, Caleb… maybe you can slow down a bit now and explain what’s going on?” she asked hopefully. Caleb frowned and looked toward her, hesitating.
“You mean you don’t know?” he asked, his tone still terse as he strode along as steadily as his small legs could carry him.
Kravitz’s patience was already worn quite thin and he gave a low, impatient growl at the retort. He quite suddenly stepped forward and stood in front of Caleb, the halfling giving a startled ‘hey!’ in protest and glowering up at the man. It would have been amusing in any other situation but Kravitz was clearly at the end of his rope for the day.
“No. We don’t. That’s why we’re asking, ‘Caleb’. Why did we need to seek you out and why were you waiting for us. Because, to be quite frank and honest, we weren’t told a single thing before coming to this… this... middle-of-nowhere place,” he said darkly, his voice tense.
Barry stepped forward to ease his friend back, stopping him from potentially doing something rash in his agitation.
“Look, we came a long way and all we’ve got going for us is your name. Mind telling us what the situation is here?” he asked, trying to appeal to their new acquaintance in a more amicable manner.
“I might also suggest that you act a little more respectful to people like us as well, yeah?” Lup added, unimpressed with the halfling’s attitude. “Trust me, we’re probably the last people you want to go making mad and you’re not doing a lot to make us want to even keep following you.”
Caleb blinked and looked between the three of them. He seemed to be weighing his words carefully before sighing deeply and speaking.
“Okay. You three want to know why I need you? Here it is…” he began, the three travelers leaning forward in anticipation.
“You three are here to help me find The Grand Relics.”