Veres Beginnings

It Started In Dragons Nest

From the moment that Veres rolls into Dragon's Nest, he knows that this stop was going to take something from him. He isn't sure if it was going to be an appendage, a part of his soul, or his heart, but the way the air smells fresh and full and the chatter around him is bright but lacking malice, it feels like a place one would come to raise their children. A place far away from the corruption of Qalar, from the dirty business that flows from its orifices like decay. This is where he will be safe.

As he walks through the streets, he thinks of his luck and how a simple stab at a map in his pack could maybe change his whole life. Right now though, he needs to find a job and he needs to find housing.

He travels towards the back of the town, passing tourist traps and a town hall, nonviable options for someone with no papers and no credibility. He knew better than to try, this being his umpteenth town and all. And besides, he needs to keep a low profile, and trying to obtain legal employment would not be the lowest of profiles.

Finally he sees it, The Mountain Peak Pub. It's a little run down, a little homely, but it's perfect for what he needs. A dragonborn woman is currently sweeping out front, all the air of someone who owns the place their feet rests on about her. He's just made up his mind to go speak with her when the deafening crack of wood splinting rips his attention up the road, just in time to see a cart barreling down and towards the woman at breakneck speed. Before he can even think about it he's racing towards her, throwing her to the ground and out of the cart's path as it careens into the side of the building instead of into her body.

He feels the break of her leg before he hears it, wincing when she cries out in pain. An unfortunate reduced price when the payment should have been her life.

Veres helps her up, helping her support her weight. She's panting heavily, eyes wide and wild as she looks at the cart that's now embedded in her tavern's wall, then looks at the person who just saved her life.

"I . . . I don't . . ." She's struggling to find words.

Veres nods, looking her over, "Aside from the leg, are you all right?" His voice is a low timber, flowing from his mouth like fire over dry timber.

The dragonborn woman nods, testing the leg in question and wincing, "Yeah, yeah I think so. Thank you, thank you."

Veres nods, a smile pulling at his lips, "Of course, what type of person would I be if I let someone get run over by a cart?"

He helps her into the bar and over to a seat. A little halfling boy comes running over, sweat dripping down his face and a horrified expression on his face.

"Shimaa! What happened??" His voice is high pitched and nasally and utterly distraught.

"I'm fine, Drystan," Shimaa sighs heavily, gingerly bringing her leg up and resting it on the chair next to her, "Could you please call the doctor and have him come? Say it's for a broken leg."

"A BROKEN LEG???" Drystan squeals, his face paling rapidly.

Veres takes a step towards the halfling, scrubbing his hand across the back of his neck, under his long pink hair, "Yes, a broken leg, and it would be really great if the doctor could come set it for her? And I'm new to town so I don't know where the doctor is."

Drystan nods and scurries off and out the door.

The next few hours are a flurry of commotion. The doctor comes in record time, the cast ready to be plastered. Veres helps Drystan around the bar, quickly falling into step and into the vibe of the tavern. It's a natural addition, like he's been there for years.

When the tavern is closed and the tables have been wiped down and the floors swept, Shimaa appears next to a tired Veres, crutches under her arms, "All right kid, let's get you a room."

He's surprised for the first time in a long time.

The months go by in a flash, a warmth settling in his chest every day he wakes up in that little room in the little tavern. He never fully lets his guard down, the windows stay locked and the door remains stoic, but Drystan's ever present smile to him and Shimaa's kindness is not a blanket he's willing to remove too quickly.

It's supposed to be another normal day, supposed to be is the key word. When he walks into the tavern for the first time that day the commotion in the corner does not go unnoticed. He's never seen these three before, the woman with the bright red hair catches his eye immediately, her and her oversized green jacket. There's something about her, something that makes him linger just a moment longer than social norms dictate. She was an artificer, he certainly could tell that, he'd seen enough of them to know from his travels. They all had the same air about them, that air of carefully concealed mania. This woman was talking animatedly to a woman in a red leotard, an enthralled halfling by her side, stuff and things piled around her and on the table. If he had to wager, the stuff and things around her used to be all together before they came spilling out. Why they were out is something he both wanted to know and didn't want to know. He was going to try and ignore it, going to try and preserve the little haven he had found in this town.

It's not until the blue elf walks in and starts talking about portals that Veres finds himself surprised for the second time in a long time.

Oh well, he was due for an upheaval anyways.