Torn sat in the tavern, looking around for likely candidates. With his girlfriend heavily pregnant, she could not join him on his current job, and his other companions - the Merry Band of Misfits - was at least a few weeks away, and Torn wasn’t patient enough to wait. He had gotten a job from the Rosenite court to scavenge materials from a dragon graveyard for dragonbone armour, and had been given a relatively sizable purse to recruit assistance in the matter. However, finding people willing to brave a nest full of angry hippogryphs was proving difficult, as such high-end jobs were usually handled by Dragon Knights around these parts. Torn, however, was not about to turn to them for help - he would handle this on his own, with the resources provided. Besides, the Dragon Knights had been training him, and he wanted to prove he could make do without them.

After downing a jug of mead, Torn decided he’d try to gain attention in a manner more creative than just asking around. He tugged at the barkeep’s sleeve. “Hey, friend. Mind if I use your entertainment stage? I feel the need for some… Artistic expression.” The barkeep looked at him with a perked eyebrow, then shrugged. “Go ahead, sir. But I want half of any tips you get.” Torn smiled and nodded. “Deal.” He snuck through the crown in the inn and got to the stairs leading to the stage, taking with him a lute hanging on the wall as he got up. As he took the stage, the crowd turned to him, and Torn knew he’d be able to get his message across.

“Afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” he began, looking over the group. A few likely candidates, but he’d have to dazzle them a little to convince them. Luckily, he was born with quite a bit of charm, so he strummed the lute with a smile and addressed the people looking at him. “I will now sing you a little song, and I urge the adventurous to listen,” he said, to the confusion of a few and the interest of a few others. “For this song is an offer, an invitation, if you will.” He adjusted the strings on the lute, then began playing, smiling slyly at the crowd as his fingers danced across the strings to play an upbeat, adventurous tune. The notes he played could be seen as floating, glowing notes, a skill he knew only muses and illusionists possessed.

“Hey, lo, and behold, go with me today,
A bird sang to me ‘there are beasts you must slay’,
Beasts of the infinite, rolling skies,
Out there in the north, their nesting lies.
Slay them we must, to reclaim what is dead,
For fame and for glory, and for our daily bread.
Strike out with me, brave ones, to reclaim the bones
Of creatures that once burned our kinsfolk and homes!

Come hither, my friends, there’s gold to be won!
If only you dare to fly into the sun!
Will you join in my venture for glory and wealth?
There’s room for both fighter and master of stealth.

Now, here, on the morrow, we’ll strike out to raid
The gryphs that on hillside a colony made,
So gather your things, sharpen both wit and sword,
And hunt the remains of the sky’s flaming lord!

Come hither, my friends, there’s gold to be won!
If only you dare to fly into the sun!
Will you join me tomorrow at the seventh bell?
There’s room to both masters of blade and of spell!”

Torn stopped playing the lute and smiled his most winning smile. Despite his performance, there was a bit of hesitation among the adventurers in the inn. Torn then called out casually to the people present. “Come and meet me at the bar should you be interested,” he said, before walking off stage, hanging up the lute, and heading over to the bar to order another drink.

The city of Sularia was quite the sight for Cha'Kwe'Tza. The Reptilian had never ventured here before, and had done so on the suggestion of one of the warriors he had hired. Having travelled the last few miles through the night and the morning, the city looked even more amazing with the early afternoon sun shining down on it in full force, and by the looks on his men's faces, they would be more than happy to find a place with real beds to collapse into. Calling a halt just inside the gates, Cha'Kwe'Tza handed each of the men a few silvers, and instructed them to pair up and find a tavern or inn with enough room for all of them. Then, once having done that, send one man to find him in the bazaar that was down the path behind him.


As the group split, Cha'Kwe'Tza caught a few excited and hushed comment from the last few men in line about the abundance of women around. Passing some of the stalls, Cha'Kwe'Tza did notice that there was a superior number of women to men as far as the locals were concerned. At the moment, he was a little more concerned trying to find something in particular amongst the stalls. By the end of it all, it took him longer to find someone that would actually answer him and not quiver or stare at the ground when speaking. However, once it was clear to the pipe merchant that the large, scaly barbaric figure in front of him was willing to spend coin, he was much more agreeable to selling his wares.

A few moments later, one of his men pushed through the crowd, calling out to him. Thanking the merchant before departing, Cha'Kwe'Tza followed the shorter man to a tavern not too far away. Most of the others were already gathered outside waiting. Looking to the warrior that had come to find him, Cha'Kwe'Tza reached into the pouch at his hip and dug out another two silver pieces. Handing it to the man, the Reptilian said, "Split with Rolf. You win." Pushing through the door, the warrior heard a few audible groans from behind him. Moving from the doorway, and away from the light well that stops most from seeing a newcomer clearly, the usual two things happened. Firstly was the short hush as some people gawked at him. The second was a quiet comment or two asking about what exactly had just walked into the place.

Blinking a few times to adjust his eyes to the slightly dimmed interior light, Cha'Kwe'Tza moved over to where Rolf had taken up a seat at a table. Grabbing the back of a chair in a large scaly hand, he turned it so that it sat backwards to the table, allowing him to sit with some semblance of comfort and not be on his tail at the same time. The rest of the group quickly filed in and sat down, stacking their spears in the corner a few feet away. As a couple large pitchers landed on the table with mugs for the group, Cha'Kwe'Tza went to pour the first one when Rolf spoke up, "Hey uhh, Chalky. Before we get too into these, the tall fellow at the bar said he has some sort job. Well, sang it really. Want me to call him over?" Finishing the pour, Cha'Kwe'Tza handed the pitcher to someone and shook his head, "I'll go." Getting up from the chair, the large warrior turned and walked over to the man at the bar. "My man says you have job? Come join and tell. First drink on us."

Torn had only just gotten to the counter when a strange creature addressed him. Torn wasn’t really surprised at the sight - he’d seen plenty of peculiar things in his short life adventuring - but he was visibly intrigued by the man in front of him. He did, however, greet the man most cordially, with a smile and a hand outstretched in greetings, waiting to be shook. “That’s correct, friend,” Torn replied, all youthful charm and forthcoming amity. “And I will take you up on the offer. I have a feeling I’ll be handing you silver soon enough anyway,” he continued, following the lizardman to his company. When all had gathered around to hear the details, Torn gave a smile, and introduced himself.

“Greetings, all,” he began, graciously accepting a beverage courtesy of the apparent mercenaries. “My name is Torn, and I am affiliated with the Rosenite court. I could go on about details for ages, buuut -” Torn held out his arms in a sort of mock surrender, pandering to the group’s likely somewhat impatient and to-the-point psyche - “Suffice to say that I have an objective, and I need manpower to accomplish it.” He took a swig of his offered beverage before continuing, making a point of raising the pint first, in silent toast. “Armoursmiths from around the world covet dragonbone and dragon scales for use in the most high-end armour sets,” he continued, putting down his drink momentarily. “And since the area is relatively dense with dragons, people often come here seeking them,” Torn went on, his smile almost apologetic. “However, here, they are considered companions, not menaces - and as such, many leave Sularia disappointed.” Torn grabbed his drink again and had another swig, his smile most sly. “That’s where I come in. There’s a dragon graveyard a few days’ march from here,” he explained, looking at each present warrior in turn. “As yet untapped due to the presence of rather… territorial hippogryphs,” he said. “Now. Dragons are naturally reluctant to sell the bones of their kin, so this gig isn’t exactly dragon knight territory,” Torn continued, “But the residents of the graveyard requires resolute and skilful arms to wrest control of the valuable remains,” he finished, before emptying his drink.

Torn smiled and turned to the reptilian. “And there’s why I need you guys. Keep threats at bay, and help transport the dragonbone back to Sularia. The pay is two thousand silver - or any equivalent you’d like to be paid in. Gems, gold, spice, Egjoran thaler… whatever.” Torn held out his hands in invitation. “Well, lads? What do you say?”