Vox Machina: Blood of the Primal Deities

Chapter 1 The Band of Drunken Nobodies

Tal'Dorei Castle

"BLAST!!!" cried the General, slamming his fist furiously on the war table causing the figurines to topple over slightly. "All of our forces  All of our mercenaries slaughtered like lambs. I state my case again, Sovereign Uriel: send our army to challenge whatever this fiend is before it decimates the entire kingdom." he warns.

"Perhaps we have been ill-advised in our strategy, sire. I propose we attempt to capture the beast and use it as a weapon against our enemies." advised a tall blue elven counsel member.

"I must object, Sir Fince. We don't even know what the creature is. Demon? Elemental? And how do you propose we capture it?" a female counsel member points out, given the many obvious flaws in the strategies.  At the head of the table sat Sovereign Uriel and at his side the chief council member and his half brother Prince Rafael.

"Lady Allura is right." agreed the sovereign. 

- But sire...

"- I will not send our remaining army beyond the city walls until we know who or what our enemy is. We must find more mercenaries."

"The Torian Butchers are butchered, the murder Hobos murder, the Death Dealers are all dead--" Sir Fince snaps. 

"Then find someone worthy!" Uriel yells back, the chamber echoing with his voice, and causing the elven man to jump back in fright. Rafael raised an eyebrow, wondering if Sir Fince wanted his head severed from his body. Knowing his brother, he might do something much gruesome but he isn't that cruel of a King. "Do not rest until you bring me the greatest band of mercenaries in all of Tal'Dorei!" 

Once the council adjourned, Uriel slumped in his chair and sighed rubbing his forehead.

"You know I could always zap him." Rafael suggested, casting Uriel a mischievous grin.

"Don't tempt me, but I'll take you up on the offer." Uriel chuckled, Rafael chuckled as well, knowing Uriel's spirits was lifted some, "I can't believe three of our most powerful mercenaries were killed these past weeks." 

"We have to remain patient brother. Perhaps the next band of mercenaries might defeat whatever it is that plague our home." Rafael reassures Uriel, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

*********

"Chug, chug, chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!"

The crowd cheered on a party of as they were red cheeked and  guzzled down some beer. The tall goliath barbarian finishes first before the others and slams his tankard on the table. "Yeah! That's right! Who's the best? Yeah!" the crowds cheered wildly. 

"Grog wins, again." Percy calls out, swirling some wine out of sheer boredom. Appearing next to him was a elven humanoid woman, her ebony hair tied in a messy braid with feathers and assorted leaves as adornment. She's slightly shorter to Percy, given that she's around 5'9 while Percy was about 6'1. Lydia Trickfoot was her name, but everyone calls her Lydie.

She folded her arms and raised an eyebrow, "They're still drinking?" 

"They are sadly, well, except for Grog." Percy responded. Lydie groaned, knowing that she'll be the main care taker for the hangover that was to come. 

Next to the goliath sat a warrior decked in armor made from lavished metals with a medallion on his chest. He wore a blue shirt with black leather trousers and brown knee high boots. His long white locs was tied in a half ponytail that sat on his head giving off the impression that he's worth some sort of prestige.

His smooth walnut brown skin reflected off the lights of the tavern. Although he was slightly drunk, his deep hazel and blue eyes began to sparkle a bit and a sly smirk appears with an eyebrow curved upward. He chuckles resting his head in his hand. Looking over to the rogue who sighs and rubs his temples, "F*ck me. Why do we always play drinking games with a guy twice our size?" Vax'ildan questions as he glances at his drunk twin sister.