Iorrjaer

Chapter 1

Ockburg

Fourth Era: 754

Three days until the eclipse

"Listen up lads and ladies," Tapht, a stout armoured dwarf with a large peppered white beard and broad shoulders, boomed. "The mission stands as this: deliver this wagon of ale to our neighbouring town, Ockburg. Sorâth and party, you've been hired to escort this wagon and my representative, Yophiel. This is harvesting season in Ockburg, which means that it'll be the eleventh full moon of the year. Winter will be upon us soon.

This wagon is your way into the city. You'll deliver these twenty kegs of ale and then bring back a wagon full of harvest. However, your mission is two-fold. We need this precaution as some disturbing reports have been coming in and a group of your caliber would look suspicious showing up at their door without means." Standing next to the dwarf that addressed a small party of elves, humans, a halfling and an orc, was Bne, a tall human in full Paladin armour, he had cropped brown hair that was starting to show signs of grey; he was an imposing figure.

"Yophiel," Bne said, his voice as low and baritone as the dwarf's. "Your mission is to rendezvous with Victor Wellson, the mayor of Ockburg, and ensure that he pays the proper amount of coin for the guarding and delivery of the wagon and ale. Sorâth and party, your mission is to keep Yophiel and the wagon safe. I don't know what to expect, so be prepared for anything. If the reports are to be believed, the people are no longer themselves; some kind of spell or infection is taking over. Alan and Allen, the sons of Victor, were sent back on a mission of recon and haven't returned nor have they checked into their rendezvous point for several days now. We are to assume the worst. Questions?"

Two elves, a halfling and a pig? Impure! "No questions; but I will say this," Yophiel said. She was as young looking as she was naïve. She had long blond hair that cascaded onto her shoulders and clashed with the white and gold of her armour, said. "Pig, if you so much as speak, I will gut you where you stand."

"Yophiel, remember, you are on a team." Tapht said, his eyes burned at her.

"I don't need your team!" Stupid dwarf! I am Divinity!

As if able to read her thoughts, Bne said: "Not yet. Don't be disillusioned by the armour you wear."

Immediately following, Tapht said: "Do I need to remind you of why you are here? Our deal?" He was pained to hear Yophiel start her rhetoric so quickly. She did not even make it out of the gate before starting.

Yophiel winced and her confidence faltered. "All of you better just stay out of my way. Especially you, pig!" She inhaled, regaining her composure.

"What has he done to you?" Barsabel, a lean, athletic, medium-sized red-haired woman in loose-fitting monk robes, asked.

Fuck off! Shut up! "All pigs are the same; smelly, ugly, murders."

"I could say that about humans," Bethar, a small, char-black, undead, riddled with complex tattoos, almost like etchings, Halfling, said sitting on the giant Orc's left shoulder. "Egotesticle, dirty, and weak."

Graphiel, Yophiel's personal bodyguard, sighed. "Egotistical." He put his hands on his hips, pushing his body length tan coat behind his hips, revealing that he was carrying an assortment of tools and makeshift weapons.

"Aye, that's what I said. Egotesticle."

"No, no," Graphiel said, hanging his head. "Tis. Egotistical."

"Ohhh, okay. What was I saying?" It was clear to the others that Bethar's mistake was purposeful but it had its desired effect on Yophiel – it was distracting her.