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Martalos had been sent on a super important and very special mission to find a holy sword. The wood elf was ecstatic when he was told, a solo mission of such high importance, and he was the one that was chosen for it! He had instantly prepared and left, practically running out of the door, well as best as he could with that armour. However a week had passed and Martalos had found nothing. His enthusiasm was dying, and as he walked through yet another town the thought of giving up and going back passed through his mind.
A small stone clattered along the paved ground as Martalos kicked it in disappointed frustration. He watched it glumly, as it came to a halt in front of the door to a large tavern, called The Playful Charlatan. Martalos was about to turn away and continue walking when suddenly a very large group of people started barrelling out of the tavern. He frowned, watching everybody hurriedly leave; practically everyone in the tavern had left in that one instant. Martalos tilted his head to the side and walked over to the tavern door. As he got closer he heard some sort of commotion coming from inside, clearly the reason why everyone had suddenly left. Curious, Martalos pushed open the door and walked in.
He was greeted by quite the scene.
In a large, open room full of tables and chairs, a tiefling with long white hair and red skin flecked with scales was laughing maniacally as he rode what seemed to be a robotic dragon. This ‘dragon’ had no wings and was about the size of a large horse, but their four glowing eyes were lit up a bright vibrant green and their jagged mouth was wide open, occasionally releasing a loud, electronic-sounding roar. They were bucking and thrashing around, clearly not happy with the tiefling on their back, but this only made the tiefling laugh and cackle even more. Another tiefling was adding to the noise by yelling loudly at the other.
“ALYRSTAIRE! GET OFF OF PROWLER RIGHT NOW!” This tiefling was much shorter than the other, supporting a short black bob of hair and red skin of a darker tone than the other. She had her hands clenched into fists at her sides and an expression of fury on her face as she yelled in a thick cockney accent. It was at this point where an apeling in the corner of the room with red and black fur started twanging out a fast-paced rodeo tune on his lute, grinning. “AXEL! YOU’RE NOT HELPIN'!” the tiefling screeched, not even turning around to look at him. The other tiefling, apparently named Alyrstaire, grinned smugly down at her while still holding onto the thrashing robot.
“Or what? What are you gonna do??” he said smugly. However, saying this meant that Alyrstaire lost concentration on his grip and he instantly slid in his seat, not having as secure of a grip as he just had. His expression changed very quickly from one of smug confidence to one of sheer terror. “SHIT HELP! MARISSA!” Alyrstaire looked desperately at the tiefling that had just been yelling at him. She now grinned smugly, folded her arms and stepped back. The apeling in the corner, called Axel, continued to play the same tune as before, only this time he shifted it into a minor key.
Martalos jumped back in the doorway as Prowler leaped and bucked around the room, crashing into tables and sending chairs flying as their spiked tail lashed furiously. The tiefling called Marissa scurried over to the bar at the back of the room and hopped over it, before peering over the top to watch the chaos, giggling as she did so. Axel stayed perched in his corner, curled up and out of harm’s way, continuing with his melody. Alyrstaire was screeching, clawing at Prowler in an attempt to get a better purchase, but he was failing spectacularly. Martalos watched the chaos in awe, completely speechless, and partially surprised that none of them had noticed him yet.
“Excuse me!” A small voice chirped next to him causing Martalos to jump in fright. He turned to the voice to find an aarakocra with white and brown feathers looking at him cheerfully.
“Uh, I don’t think you want to go in there right now,” Martalos said, pointing to the robot that was still charging around the room. The aarakocra peered in with worried eyes.
“Oh! O-oh n-no!” he stammered, bringing closed hands tipped with talons up to his face and shaking them. After spending a brief moment freaking out, the aarakocra rushed away. Martalos watched him as he scrabbled at the handles of a large wooden trap door in the floor round the side of the building. He opened it and rushed down the stairs shouting “Vyvyan!”, disappearing into the basement. Moments later, Martalos heard a loud exclamation and thundering footsteps from the open trapdoor. His eyes widened as the aarakocra reappeared with a towering silver-scaled dragonborn, who Martalos assumed to be Vyvyan, and she carried furious look on her face as she strode towards the wood elf. Martalos instantly stepped out of the way, intimidated, and watched her march into the tavern.
“What is going on here?!” the dragonborn bellowed, placing her hands on her hips commandingly. Axel instantly stopped playing his lute. Marissa pointed out from her hiding spot at Prowler, who currently was bucking and rearing repeatedly in one spot. Alyrstaire still clung on, but he had been thrown about so much that he was on the robot’s shoulder, hanging off the side.
“VYVYAN, HELP ME!” Alyrstaire cried as Prowler began to charge around the room once again. Vyvyan leapt out of the way and looked up at Alyrstaire exasperatedly.
“Fine, but this is for Prowler’s benefit, NOT yours!” Vyvyan sighed angrily. She then began trying to get Prowler’s attention. Martalos noticed that while this was happening, the aarakocra had been cowering behind him, peering around the wood elf fearfully. A voice floated up from the open trapdoor.
“Hey Klarck? Does Vyv need any help up there?” The aarakocra’s head snapped in the direction of the voice.
“Uuuuhh m-maybe!” he called back, turning back to the chaos. Moments later a very large tabaxi with sabre teeth came out from the trapdoor and calmly strode over to the doorway. She stopped and took in what was happening before sighing and squeezing past the two in the doorway.
“Marissa, do you remember the words that get Prowler back?” Vyvyan said, still trying and failing to get the attention of the raging robot.
“Oh! They’re on a bit of paper somewhere 'ere! Gimme a second,” Marissa replied, beginning to search around behind the bar.
Vyvyan continued trying to get Prowler’s attention. She snapped her fingers, picked up a broken table leg and waved it about, but all of her efforts were to no effect. The tabaxi picked up part of a broken chair and threw it at Prowler, where it just shattered against the metallic body. Vyvyan glanced at the tabaxi with an angry glare.
“Kathra! Don’t damage them!” Vyvyan barked. The tabaxi just shrugged calmly in response. Then Alyrstaire finally lost his grip.
The tiefling went flying across the room as one more big buck from Prowler dislodged his hold. He screamed the entire way before hurtling into a pile of broken furniture. Alyrstaire slowly sat up, clutching his forehead with one hand, his face scrunched in pain. Everyone except Vyvyan and Kathra watched him as he shakily got back onto his feet, climbing out of the pile of broken wood. He breathed deeply and opened his mouth like he was going to say something, before his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell forwards, unconscious.
“How is he not injured in some way?” Martalos murmured quietly. Klarck, who was still stood behind him, shrugged, watching Vyvyan and Kathra nervously. Suddenly Marissa’s arm shot up from behind the bar.
“Got it!” Vyvyan ran over, narrowly ducking under Prowler’s tail which had taken an angry swipe at the dragonborn.
Kathra threw another part of broken chair at the robot, causing them to spin round and charge in her direction, roaring as they did so. Kathra, instead of moving out of the way like Martalos expected, simply stood her ground and braced herself for the impact. Prowler slammed into her with their forehead, but the tabaxi wasn’t sent flying. Kathra had caught the robot’s head in her hands and the two were pushing against each other. Prowler crackled out another one of their roars as they dug into the wooden floor with metallic claws. Kathra had her teeth bared and was shaking from the effort, growling slightly, trying to grab another part of Prowler to hold them down while still pushing against them.
“Kathra really does like being able to test her strength,” Klarck said from behind Martalos, causing him to jump with fright again; he forgot that the small aarakocra was there.
Whilst the two were locked in their test of strength, Vyvyan loudly read from the piece of paper, “MAS-07 cease!”. Prowler instantly stopped and spun round to look at Vyvyan, tilting their head to the side and staring intently. Vyvyan locked eyes and repeated, “MAS-07 cease”. Prowler walked over to Vyvyan and stood in front of her, still staring. Vyvyan looked down at the paper again.
“MAS-07, soldier up!” Vyvyan instructed firmly. Then something happened that caused Martalos’ mouth to drop open.
Prowler began to change. Metal plates shifted and clanked together as their body slowly changed from that of a four-legged animal, to one of a two-legged humanoid. The shoulders shifted from being large and wide to small and rounded, the front legs shortened and the large feet with three thick toes became small, dexterous hands with four long fingers and a thumb. The back legs changed position, and Prowler’s back and neck creaked into an upright position. The last thing to change was the eyes, which flickered from bright green to sky blue. They stood there for a few moments motionless, head and limbs drooping, before they suddenly seemed to snap to life. Their head jerked upwards, their fingers wiggled and their tail swished calmly.
“Goodness, what happened?” they asked, looking at Vyvyan inquisitively.
“Heh not much!” Marissa laughed, coming out from her hiding place and striding over to Prowler, gesturing to all of the broken furniture in the room with an outstretched arm. Prowler followed where she was gesturing and after seeing the damage they had caused, they hunched their shoulders sheepishly.
“Oh no, I am so sorry! How can I fix this for you?” Prowler said. Marissa’s face fell and she sighed.
“Well unless you have enough money to buy a load of new furniture or the skill to make new furniture, then there’s not a lot you can do really,” Marissa explained, putting her hands on her hips and looking around the room. It was at this moment that she saw Martalos and Klarck standing in the doorway. She pointed at Martalos.
“Oi Klarck! Who’s this bloke?” she yelled inquisitively. Mistaking the yell for one of anger, Martalos began to hide in the doorway, but the small aarakocra came out from behind him and encouraged Martalos to follow him.
“Ah! We were watching everything together! He was actually here before me! This is-” Klarck paused in his cheerful speech to turn to Martalos with a puzzled expression. “Y-you didn’t actually tell me your name.” Martalos nervously walked into the room. Everyone was looking at him… except for Alyrstaire who was still passed out on the floor. Martalos glanced down at the unconscious tiefling.
“Is… is he going to be okay? Nobody’s ch-”
“He’ll be fine I’m sure,” Vyvyan snapped, interrupting. Martalos cowered a little. “Anyway, your name, young elf?” Vyvyan said, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m Martalos.”
“And what exactly brought you to this fine-” Vyvyan hesitated, looking around the room at its current state. “To this establishment, Martalos?” Marissa whipped her head round to Vyvyan, pulling a face of great offence.
“Hey! I’ll have you know that before this place got wrecked it-”
“Marissa! Not the time,” Vyvyan said, nostrils flaring. Marissa huffed and folded her arms.
“Um well, I was sent by my captain to find the Holy Sword of Mor’raan, a very special and important mission he said,” Martalos explained, briefly becoming enthusiastic. The apeling in the corner facepalmed, Prowler tilted their head to the side in curiosity, Vyvyan and Kathra gave each other a look of concern, and Marissa began to giggle, clapping a hand over her mouth. Klarck’s eyes lit up.
“Wow, that sounds really cool!” Klarck said eagerly, beaming. Martalos smiled brightly back at him. He was confused at why Marissa was giggling but he decided to dismiss it. Suddenly a loud laugh came from a staircase leading upwards at the back of the room, startling Martalos.
“BAHAHAHAHA Mor’raan! Excellent!” Another tiefling was sat on the bottom step. She had purple skin, long black hair and a long fringe that covered about a third of her entire face. Unknown to Martalos, she had been quietly sat there during the commotion the entire time, watching.
“Beefling! Don’t you have archery practice to be doing?” Vyvyan barked. Beefling groaned in response and reluctantly shuffled through a back door, slamming it behind her. Vyvyan sighed heavily before turning back to Martalos.
“Uh, Martalos, how long ago were you sent on this mission?” Vyvyan asked. She had a tone of concern in her voice, which only confused Martalos further.
“A week ago! But I’ve found nothing so far, I thought about just giving up but then they’d be really disappointed in me,” Martalos said glumly.
“Honey, I think they would be disappointed about seeing you return for different reasons,” Marissa sniggered, starting to come down from her giggling fit. Vyvyan looked at her disapprovingly.
“What do you mean?” Martalos asked, even more confused than ever.
“Ayes I’m afraid Marissa is most likely right, as there is no such place as Mor’raan. It’s one of those childish joke names people make, that sound like certain words or phrases. This one is a play on the word ‘moron’,” Vyvyan explained bluntly.
“Wha, what’s this about a moron?” Everybody in the room turned to look at Alyrstaire, who had returned to consciousness and was gradually picking himself off of the floor. Kathra strode over and effortlessly grabbed him around the waist before she slung him over her shoulder. Alyrstaire instantly began to protest, shouting and hitting Kathra’s back with his fists, but as he was still kind of woozy, Kathra barely felt anything. She disappeared through a back door.
“Um… are you sure?” After a brief pause Martalos turned back to Vyvyan.
“Yes, very sure,” Vyvyan replied. Martalos scoffed.
“Whaaaat? No that’s silly! I am one of the best soldiers there! They wouldn’t go and send me on a mission that wasn’t actually a mission!” Martalos said, grinning. Marissa snorted, putting a hand up to her mouth.
“Oh you sweet summer child,” she said, still laughing a little. “Are you sure you’re one of the best soldiers there? Or do your superiors just tell you that to make you feel better about yourself because you’re actually one of the worst and most disliked people there?” Marissa said bluntly, still grinning. Martalos’ face fell a little as Klarck gasped and Vyvyan shot Marissa a glance. Marissa looked back at the dragonborn and smugly raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘ am I wrong? ’
Kathra reemerged from the back door, without Alyrstaire. She came back into the room and rejoined the group that was gathered in the center.
“Right, Alyrstaire is now in the… what do you call it Marissa?”
“Gay Baby Jail,” Marissa said sweetly, beaming up at Kathra.
“Yeah… that,” Kathra said. Martalos was still shaken from Marissa’s blunt words.
“Do you really think…” Martalos said quietly, trailing off.
“Again, despite me not approving with quite how venomous those words were, I think Marissa is right,” Vyvyan acknowledged. Martalos looked at Vyvyan and Marissa angrily. When seeing this expression, Axel in the back quietly scampered across the room and up the staircase that Beefling was previously sat on.
“No! That’s not true! I am really good just like they say and I can’t rely on the words of some strangers that I’ve just met! They believe in me and I believe in them! I’ve worked with these people for a year now and you’ve never met them! I know more about them than you do!” Martalos ranted, acting kind of like a stroppy toddler. He threw his arms about as he spoke and paused inbetween words to breathe, completely releasing this rage that seemed to have come from nowhere.
Marissa blinked once and widened her eyes, folding her arms and smirking. Kathra looked down at Martalos with a puzzled expression, while Klarck walked over and put a hand gently on Martalos’ shoulder. Prowler took a step back, not expecting such a small creature to unleash so much fury, but then they remembered how Marissa could be a tiny ball of fiery anger sometimes. Everyone was quiet for a minute or so, before Vyvyan spoke up once more.
“How about, you stay here with us for a little while? We can help you with your mission and we can train you to really become the best fighter you can be? Plus, it means you always have somewhere to come back to after being out working out your mission?” she said calmly. Kathra and Klarck both nodded, and Marissa looked at Vyvyan in mild shock. In the short while she had known the dragonborn, she had never seen her be so… soft and nice before. Marissa was reminded of a mother talking to an upset child, comforting them.
“Sure… that sounds like a good idea,” Martalos said quietly, having mostly calmed down at this point.
“Come, let me show you around the place,” Vyvyan comforted, turning slightly, ready to lead Martalos around the tavern. The two walked to the staircase at the back and walked up it. Marissa sighed.
“Well… who knew that the uptight bitch could be so motherly,” Marissa jested, grinning broadly and looking at the others. Klarck laughed weakly, Prowler just stared back, and Kathra smiled slightly and shook her head, walking over to some broken furniture and beginning to tidy it up.