Curious to see who had annoyed the bartender, Daniel slid down the bar until he could see who it was. At first, he could see nothing, but he knew something was there. He blinked and then he saw, like clearing a fogged window. There, seated at a table in the back corner, was a man dressed in a very expensive robe. Daniel recognised what he was at once: a spell caster. He looked every inch the spell caster. He wore a robe, and he had placed a pointed hat on the table next to him. More importantly, next to his cup of wine, was a book he kept one hand on. Daniel knew it was a book of spells. A powerful and dangerous kind of book. It almost had an aura around it.

Something about the man bothered Daniel, but his first thoughts were of the insects plaguing the area. Cinch bugs infested all the fields around Acron. He had tried all the secrets farmers knew to rid himself of them, but nothing worked. He had already lost half his crop, and his future was looking bleak. A spell caster could easily rid his farm of the bugs. Maybe this man would be willing to help.

To help Acron and the other farmers.

Daniel was a good farmer, surprising even himself. He almost preferred this life over the one his father had planned for him. He had spent his childhood and early manhood working in his mother's and father's apothecary shop in the capital city of Whitehaven. It had been prosperous. That was why moving to the Wilds had made no sense to Daniel. His father argued all the plants he needed were in the Wilds, and he refused to spend any more coin on dried herbs purchased at the market. He said fresh was always best, and he felt he could make more coin providing potions and unguents from the source rather than losing money buying the expensive ingredients. And he died for those beliefs, Daniel thought. And mom. She never wanted to leave the city. But she went anyway.

He tore his eyes from the spell caster when the door to the tavern swung open and two men entered. They stopped in the entrance and looked around, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the gloom. The spell caster saw them and called over to them.

“Jason, Brian. Over here," said the spell caster.

Daniel watched as the two men followed the voice through the bar.

One was clearly a mercenary of some sort. He was massive, standing well over six feet in height. He wore a mail hauberk over a leather gambeson. Over his left shoulder and strapped to his back was a massive, unsheathed sword with a large handle. He wore a full helm which he removed, spraying sweat everywhere to the annoyance of a few patrons. He wore a large leather backpack, bulging with contents, slung over his right shoulder. Around his waist was a strange belt carrying small metal vials of varying colours. He wore thick Leather boots, and ornate metal bracers covered his forearms. He looked dangerous, but the smile he wore put Daniel at ease.

The other man was short. Very short. He was only about four feet tall, and he was almost as wide as he was short. He had thick braided hair and sported an immense beard that practically shone with redness. He had prominent ridge bones jutting over his eyes that sprouted shockingly long and thick eyebrows. Daniel stared in shock.

This was a mountain dwarf. He hadn't seen one since Whitehaven.

He carried a massive, spiked mace in one hand like it weighed nothing. What drew Daniel's attention was the dwarf wore dull half-plate mail. It looked well used and had a few prominent dents and holes in it. But it was what was painted in stark contrast on his chest that looked completely out of place. Daniel knew a crude drawing of a penis when he saw one. This dwarf had one painted in white right on his chest. Daniel then noticed the dwarf wore an amulet that also looked surprisingly like a penis. Daniel wasn't positive, but he suspected this dwarf was a cleric, but he had never heard of a religion that prayed to dicks and wasn't sure what to make of the dwarf.

Daniel knew at once what he was looking at. So did everyone else in the tavern. This was a band of adventurers. They likely carried a letter of free passage issued by the King, allowing them to search for monsters in the area. Whatever loot they found was taxed by the King, but it allowed them access to every part of the realm. Towns were honour bound to help them when asked. Adventurers were generally appreciated, but they were exceedingly rare this far from the Wilds, and Daniel was excited to see them.

The man and the dwarf arrived at the table with the spell caster.

The dwarf spoke first. “Eric, ya fookin' arse. What have ya been up tae?"

Eric, the spell caster, raised a haughty eyebrow. “Fuck you, too, Brian. About time you showed up." He looked over at the other man.

“Jason. Good to see you still alive and kicking."

Jason merely grunted and pulled off his backpack and sword before sitting next to the spell caster and putting his back to the corner.

He lifted a hand to the bartender and raised two fingers. The bartender looked surprised and then nodded and started to pour two pints from a tap next to the one he had poured Daniel's ale from.

Daniel frowned and looked at his ale.

The dwarf sat with his back to Daniel and placed his mace on the table with a thud. Eric frowned at it. "Do you mind? Have some manners."

Brian snorted. “Fook ya. It stays where it is. So, I heard you got into some trouble down south."

Eric looked away from the mace and picked up his cup of wine and took a sip.

Brian leaned in. "What the fook did you do?"

Eric sniffed and looked away, and Daniel felt dislike for the man.