I

“Sometimes the best answer to a problem presents itself when you least expect it.”

- Turyan Valorn, Master Archiver of the Obsidian Tower

Tal made his way down the busy main thoroughfare of Melora, The City of Storms. The sights, sounds and smells of the annual Tempest Festival bombarded his senses, but he ignored them for the most part and kept moving. The Tempest Festival marked the end of the Season of Storms for Melora and the surrounding area. No knew the specifics of why, but ever since the Cataclysm, Melora had been battered by storms for the same three-month period every year. Magic affected all areas in different ways, and this was what the dice has rolled for Melora. Since most history was lost in the Dark Age after the Cataclysm, the Melorans did not know the specifics of how the Festival started or what entailed the early years, but all agreed that celebrating the end of the most dangerous time of the year was a welcome tradition.

As Tal pushed through the crowd, past stalls and wandering salesmen, he looked around at the city in which he grew up. Much had changed in the ten years he was gone. He saw the same brick and concrete buildings that still stood from before the Cataclysm, but age and the yearly storms continued to weather down their facades. Repairs and restoration were difficult without the techniques and technology from the previous age, so most of the structures in the center of town were falling into disrepair. Because of this, most Melorans lived and worked on the outskirts of the city in wooden and mortar structures and the town center was utilized for gatherings and events, such as the Tempest Festival. Tal still remembered the many parties and events he went to as a kid, and for a second, closed his eyes and let his senses carry him away.

He felt a sudden bump on his leg which woke him from his memory, and he looked down to see a child, not much older than eight, with bright green eyes and messy red hair look up at him with a timid expression.

“S-s-sorry m-mister.” The boy stuttered, slowly backing away. Tal smiled, reached out and tousled the kid’s already unruly hair.

“It’s okay, kid”, Tal said as he almost absent mindedly patted his hidden money belt, “Just watch where you’re going next time.” The boy nodded, smiled back and then ran off to join a few other children around his age.

The smile on Tal’s face melted away, melancholy setting in as other less happy memories started to float to the front of his mind. He knew that coming back would bring back old memories that he wanted to leave forgotten. After all, that was why he left in the first place. He took a deep sigh, looked around at the merriment one last time and then quickly cut off to a side alley to get away from the hustle and bustle of the crowd.

As he made his way down the alley, the sounds of merriment fading a bit, though the echo down the alley was slightly disorienting. Tal had always felt more comfortable in the back alleys and side streets of Melora, exploring areas left forgotten in the hundreds of years since everything changed. Tal saw himself as a kid running down this alley, hopping on to the stacked boxes, grabbing the drainpipe and the scurrying up it to the roof before disappearing.

As he watched the shade of his childhood disappear, Tal suddenly froze as a chill ran up the back of his neck. It was suddenly very quiet in the alley. Even the sounds of the festival were gone, despite only being about 100 yards back the way he came. He swore and started to kick himself internally for letting his guard down again in such a short time. He was letting his emotions and memories cloud him and while the first time only led to an awkward encounter with a small child, Tal was sure that this time would not be so innocent.

Tal slowly started reaching towards his back when he heard a voice sound from behind him.

“Whatever you’re reaching for, kid, I would highly advise against it.” Tal pulled his hand away and turned around. In front of him stood two people. One of them was a skinny man of medium height and build in his thirties with various pockmarks and scars on his face, a mess of long greasy black hair falling down on the sides of his face. He wore ragged patchwork clothes, a pair of hiking boots and a leather jerkin that looked like it was tanned and stitched together out of various animal hides. His partner on the other hand was a towering giant of over six feet, large muscles bulging out of a simple white tank top and long gym pants that covered up what looked to be a pair of black combat boots. His bald head seemed featureless except for the heavy scowl and glowering eyes that seemed to focus attention. The thing that drew most of Tal’s attention however was the hand crossbow pointed directly at him by the smaller man. The smaller man cleared his throat and gestured with the crossbow before speaking again.

“Now…hand over everything you have and this can all end painlessly.” His voice sounded like he had a piece of phlegm in his throat and Tal felt a sudden subconscious urge to cough and clear his throat. “And don’t think yelling for help will save you. You see, Brick here,” he gestured to the giant with his head, “his talent is very useful for making sure we aren’t heard.” Brick grinned and cracked his knuckles. “Now,” the man continued, “the downside to his talent is that he can’t talk, but that’s what I’m here for.” He grinned, showing crooked teeth that were yellowed by tobacco and other drugs. “Now I’ll say it again. Hand over everything of value you have.” He raised the crossbow slightly and pointed it at the base of Tal’s throat.

Tal held his hands up and tried to put on a disarming grin.

“Now gentlemen, please. Let’s not be too hasty. I don’t have anything on me. I’ve already spent my money at the festival. I was just headed home. You won’t have any trouble from me. Just let me go.”

The point man smirked, and let out a gurgling chuckle from his throat.

“Sorry kid, but no dice. Not only do we know that you just got into town, but we’ve been watching you ever since you came to the district and we know you haven’t bought anything. Besides,” his smirk turned into a wide grin, “my talent is that I know when someone is lying to me, and you’re lying through your teeth. Brick, get him.” Brick quickly moved towards Tal and reached out to grab one of his raised hands.

As soon as Brick’s hand came within range, Tal quickly grabbed the giant index finger, twisted hard to the right and felt a satisfying pop as he dislocated it. Brick opened his mouth to scream in pain, but no sound came out. Tal took advantage of the moment by slamming his open palm into Brick’s solar plexus, feeling the hot breath leaving Brick’s lungs, while at the same time hooking Brick’s left leg and sweeping him off his feet. Brick hit the ground hard with a loud thud. Not looking like he was going to get up for the moment, Tal started to focus his attention on the other Thug.

Tal suddenly felt a flush of heat on his left side and he instinctively threw himself to the ground as a crossbow bolt whipped past the place he was standing at a second ago, crackling with electricity. Great, Tal thought, he’s carrying Tek bolts. Tal did a quick combat role, coming to a kneeling position as he pulled out the pistol he had in a back holster and pointed it directly at the man who had been threatening him. A small smirk crossed Tal’s face as he saw the thug look with surprise, not at Tal, but at the powder weapon that Tal was wielding.

“So,” Tal said slowly, “it seems we are at a draw at the moment, You’ve lost your numbers advantage, but I have no guarantee of shooting you before you shoot at me.” The look of surprise changed to one of anger and annoyance.

“Yes…it seems we have.” Tal’s smirk turned to a subtle grin and the thug snarled at him. “What’s so funny?”

“You made three mistakes, and those mistakes are going to cost to you this fight.” The thug took on a look of confusion and incredulity.

“Oh really? And what might those be?” Tal’s grin disappeared and became completely deadpan.

“One: You let me known that there were only two of you, so I could focus all attention without getting surprised by a third party.” The thug’s face fell slightly as Tal slowly started to come to a standing position. “Two: You gave away your talents, letting me know that I wouldn’t have to expect anything crazy from either one of you.” Tal was completely standing now, the thug’s face falling completely into a frown. “And three: you picked the wrong mark. See…I know exactly what your next move will be before you take it, so no matter what, I will win. You’re a lie detector, right? Am I lying?” The thug’s eyes narrowed before going wide. Then his expression quickly went to one of rage.

“BULLSHIT!” he yelled. Tal immediately felt a bright heat on his chest, and quickly spun to his right as the thug released a second crossbow bolt that darted just past Tal. Tal finished his spin, lined up his shot and pulled the trigger. The 10mm pistol jerked in his hand as it fired, and the thug fell to the ground with a yell of pain, the crossbow flying away from him. Tal walked up to the downed thug, still holding his gun to him.

The man was whimpering and groaning, blood coming from between his fingers as he clutched at his right shoulder. Tal stood directly over him, the thug’s eyes staring daggers into Tal’s. “I told you that you would lose.” The thug looked like he was about to speak before a swift kick to the temple knocked him out. Tal made his way over to Brick, who was starting to slowly sit up. Tal flipped the pistol around in his hand, and quickly whipped it across the back of Brick’s head. Brick crumpled silently to the ground.

Tal almost jumped as sound returned around him; Brick’s apparent Talent of sound dampening, seemingly useless in his unconscious state. “Welcome home, Taliesin.” He muttered to himself. He sighed, holstered his pistol, and continued back down the alley towards his destination.

He made his way down less crowded side streets and more empty alleys, careful to not be ambushed again. He eventually made his way out of the central market square and into the artisan district proper. Despite the name, the area served more as the living quarters for all of the merchants, artisans, and other sellers of goods and services. There were a few places that serviced the local clientele, but not many, as most were not clearly marked or intentionally worked off of word of mouth advertising.

Tal finally reached a large, pearl white dividing wall with an open gate that served as the informal passageway between the artisan district and the common district. Tal followed the length of the wall to the edge of the city, and then back the other direction towards the center of the city, where it intersected with a circular wall surround the government district. He could barely make out a few other walls that served as dividers for the various sections of the city.

The Great Walls of Melora were an interesting landmark throughout the region. It was said that back before the Cataclysm, there was a great war that raged, and the ruler of the Melora at the time instructed that the city be physically divided and have the ability to be locked down, section by section. This was suppose to be utilized to protect various elements of the city and make it harder for the enemy forces to take Melora. However, because of all that was lost during the Dark Age, no one could verify this information, and it remained mostly a story. A few old texts that now lay within the Obsidian Tower in Vinter did speak to Melora and its Walls, but what little they spoke of seemed to treat the City of Storms with disdain and anger, not as a beautiful light in a dark torrential area as it was now.

Tal made his way towards an enormous structure that was built up against the Wall. The building was made of the same material as the Walls, and took up an entire city block. While the building itself was about half the height of the 100-foot Wall, five spire-like towers, one on each corner, and one in the center, erupted out of the building, cresting about twenty feet higher, as if stretching to reach the top of the Wall as well as making the building look like a faux castle. Windows lined the sides of the building, marking the various rooms and floors of the structure, though most were closed and shuttered by metal slats. A metal symbol of a crossed sword and powder rifle overlaid on a diamond swung lazily between two wooden posts on chains, creaking slightly on each back swing.

Tal passed by a large wood and cork posting board and approached the only visible door on the building, a single wrought-iron piece that had few sigils and marks that glowed with faint red and white light. The building was a marvel of Old Era that made Tal forget the world that existed now, but seeing the magic glyphs of warding brought him back to the present. He sighed, pulled out a rolled up piece of paper and a small metal brooch that matched the design of the swinging sign outside the building, and held them out before the door.

“My name is Taliesin Covarion, and I have been summoned to the Diamond Garrison to meet with the leader of the Storm Mercenaries Guild.” He waited for a minute, and nothing happened. He sighed again and lowered his arms. “Great,” he muttered, “I didn’t want to be here any way.” He started to turn around when the door behind him started to creak open. Tal quickly turned back towards the door, looking to see who was coming, but no one exited. He looked suspiciously at the open portal inside and wondered if he was being pranked.

Tal must have waited too long, because the door groaned again and started to close. He quickly darted towards the door, which seemed to start moving faster. Tal reached the door right as it seemed to close, and as he reached out to grab it, the door stopped. Tal paused and then backed up, not sure if the door would open again. He looked at the crack where the door was still open. He could definitely fit, though it might be a little tight. He sighed deeply, pushing his hand through his short, black, messy hair as he did so, and started to shuffle through the hole. Tal made his way through the door and into the building, but as he started to pull away, he felt a tug on his jacket. He looked back and saw that his hood was caught on an errant piece of metal sticking out of the frame of the door. He tugged at it, but it wouldn’t give. “Come on.” he moaned to himself. He tugged again, slightly harder. He didn’t want to tear his jacket, but he was not going to give it up either. He tugged at the jacket, emphasizing each pull with a plea.

“Give. Me. My. Jacket. You. Stupid. Door- WHOA!” The door suddenly groaned and slammed shut, throwing him off his feet. He lay there for a second, wondering what just happened when he heard a chuckle from somewhere on his right. He pulled himself to his feet, dusting himself off and checking his jacket for tears, and looked over at where the laugh emanated.

An older looking gentleman with a wizzen smile and thin wispy white hair grinned at him from an alcove. He wore a simple black shirt and pants and Tal thought he saw the hint of a tattoo on the left side of his neck. “Sorry stran-jah. I woulda ‘elped ya, but ole Isabel likes ‘er fun.” The man had a deep, gravelly voice that echoed slightly off the stone walls. Tal cocked his head slightly, partially at the strange accent, but also at what the man said.

“Uh-huh. Thanks for the help, and while I understand having a laugh, I would like to talk to this Isabel about first impressions and guests.” Tal thought he heard the old man chuckle slightly, but the door whistled as wind came through some of the cracks and holes, partially blocking out other sounds. The old man shook his head.

“Ole Isabel ain’t one fer talkin’, normally. That’s mah job.” He approached the door and patted it, a look of amusement in his eyes. “But as the lady of the gate, she decides who comes in and out.” Tal cocked an eyebrow.

“You expected me to believe that Isabel is the door?” Tal asked incredulously. “Sorry, sir, but that may work on small children and the more gullible, but I have a better understanding of magic than most. I know that sentient objects don’t exist, and even if they did, it wouldn’t be the door to the Diamond Garrison.” The old man laughed out loud this time.

“Tha’ name’s Theron, boy, not sir. I’m no old man,” he chuckled again. “And I neva’ said that Isabel was tha’ door. Now move along and get to your business,” he chuckled again, “and I’ll have a talk with Isabel about treating guests.” Tal shook his head and started down the foyer towards the only other door as he heard Theron breaking out into a wheezing laugh. As Tal reached the door, he heard the main door groan again, and he swore it sounded like a laugh.

The crazy man’s got me hearing things. he thought. Must have just hit my head when I fell. He shook his head, open the simple wooden door in front of him and went through it.

Tal found himself in a large tavern-like area that looked like it could seat a few hundred people, tables and chairs spread throughout. There were a few people milling about and seated at different tables. Along the entire left side of the room was a large bar that was currently being manned by five people. Tal approached the bar and got the attention of the closest bartender, a young red-headed woman with freckles all all over his face and arms. She, along with every other bartender and the couple of milling waiters and waitresses, wore a very similar outfit to Theron. This only accentuated her pale skin and curly, flaming red hair, though her piercing green eyes drew his attention the most. As she came over to him, he opened his mouth to speak but she interrupted him.

“I know...no drink. Give me a minute and I can get you the man to point you in the direction of who you’re looking for..” She turned around and shouted down the bar. “Johnny! There’s a cute, young man here who is looking to make contact with the Guildmaster!” She turned back and smiled at Tal, who must have had a look on his face because she laughed and shook her head. “Names Siobhan, by the way, and you want to know how I did that. Well, as I’m sure you might have guessed, it is related to my Talent.” She smirked. “ I can look at someone and know exactly what they are looking for at that time, even if they don’t always know themselves.” She looked him directly in the eyes again and he saw a subtle flash across her iris he hadn’t seen before. “Comes in very handy as a barkeep.” An older gentleman with sharp features and an even sharper nose approached from beside Siobhan, his gray hair whipping behind him in a ponytail. He put his hand on Siobhan’s shoulder.

“Thank you Siobhan, my dear. Now please go help Dale down there before he tries to break another glass.” Siobhan nodded and proceeded quickly down to the other end of the bar. Johnny smiled at Tal, a warm smile very reminiscent of a loving grandparent.

“So you want to see the Guildmaster, eh? I would take you to him, but I’m kinda busy. If you want to give me a minute, I could find someone - AH! Perfect timing.” Johnny motioned to someone behind Tal. “AJ! Can you come over here and help me out?” Tal turned around to where Johnny had focused his attention and felt his stomach drop as he saw who Johnny was talking to.

Approaching the bar was a lithe, toned woman in a yellow tanktop and black tactical cargo pants. She had a rapier slung low on her left hip and had a large black case slung over her back. Long, dirty blonde hair swung behind her in a loose ponytail that came down to her lower back, though she had a pair of bangs that fell down either side of her face. Oh crap, Tal thought to himself, please don’t be her. The woman identified as AJ approached the bar.

“What can I help you with Johnny? Is it your friend here…?” Her voice trailed off as she finally got a good look at Tal. Her face went to one of surprise, to confusion, and finally anger. “You son of a bitch!” That was the last thing Tal heard as a fist suddenly appeared in his vision followed quickly by darkness.