Anteaus - World of Adventure

The winds of time show a future, a future unknown by mortal man, but we gods see this scene. The world shall become a world of many destinies, and we gods have little say in it. A time of bandits and pirates, of war and peace, of magic and fire. Your future is yours to decide, yours to control. Life is what you make of it, and we gods have to deal with the decisions you make.

Whether you wish to live a life of a pirate, or the life of a simple sailor, whether you wish to be a loyal soldier in an army, or be a mercenary who works for the highest bidder. You can be a merchant or a thief, or perhaps you wish to rule a country, and be a king. All destinies are laid out in front of you, and it is up to you to decide how your fate will run.

Anteaus is a world of high adventure and exploration. There are several large landmasses, and many islands and strips of uninhabited lands. Temperate seas and frozen wastelands dot the world, as well as lush forests and deadly deserts. You will start in the city of Faythe, a gateway city into the Sea of Wrath, or a gateway to the Jagged Blades, a string of mountains that split Jearun and Kothar, two lands currently at war in the one major pass through the mountains. The choice is yours to make, where you wish to go, and how you wish to get there. I just direct the things around you, and you direct yourself.

Welcome to Anteaus - World of Adventure.

As the night deepened around you, a short form approached you, dressed in robes of pale blue and a small green cap. The halfling carried a small clipboard, and seemed to be perpetually pushing his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. As you stand near the end of the dock, he approaches you with a small smile, and a greedy little gleam in his eyes.

"Excuse me ser, I couldn't help ta notice that you just step off the 'Squall Chaser', and I assume you hadn't paid ta fee ta get into the city yet. I just need you name, profession, and intents in tha city, as well as any weapons you may carry upon youself. The whole process should not be taking more than twenty or thirty minutes, and then you be registered in the city. Of course this process be sped along wit a little more gold ser, oterwise, I be needing two gold for fillin ta paperwork. I also be able to point ya ta the nearest inn for yer purposes."

Throughout this entire speech, he never keeps his eyes on you for longer than a second, as his eyes flickers from man to man, as more halflings approach the other voyagers that stepped off the ship with you, and the greedy gleam grew bigger every time he sees another halfling stop one of the voyager. He smiles constantly, and stands there and waits for you to answer his questions.

The halfling's smile falters slightly as he glances around.

"Be it a scam or no, we are sanctioned by the city watch. You may, of course, choose ta no pay, but then we must post a report and reward for failing ta follow the laws."

As he spoke, the greedy gleam in his eyes slowly faded. A look of aggravation came into them.

"If you no have coin, then you present youself to the city watch in the morning. They have work for those like you. If you choose no to present youself, then the bounty will be put up." A few moments later, he smiles again, and gets ready to walk past you. "If you need tavern that let you pay after you stay, try ta 'Floating Stag' they tend ta you sort. Take da central road till ya see a small side road named Kutca Lane. Ta 'Floating Stag' is there, not ta most glamourous of inns, nor taverns, but it fits what you looking for."

As you watch him walk past you, you notice he approaches another traveler and starts talking to her the same way he started with you.
A small smile, and a greedy gleam in his eyes.

The 'Floating Stag' was a fairly robust place from the first look. The room had around twenty small, four person tables, and four large tables that could easily sit ten or fifteen people. There was even room for more tables to be set out if the need presented itself. A large bar practically covered the back wall, except for the stairway up to the second floor, the open doorway to the back, and a small area where another table was set. Several large chandeliers hung from the ceiling, simple in design, elegant in placement. Everything about this place, at first glance, looked to be much more impressive than you would have thought from the halfling's comments.

A closer look shows that all the tables are pitted and scarred, assumably from knives or other weapons. Many of the tables had legs that looked newer than the others, and most of the chairs and benches look as if they had been rebuilt. The chandeliers look to be overly bolted to the ceilings, and well enforced against being pulled down. The entire place looks as if bar fights were a regular occurance.

There are many patrons sitting down at tables and at the bar. There is a mixture of humans, halflings, tieflings, dwarves, elves, and dragonborne. Human's make up the majority of the patrons, with a half-dozen halfings around one table, a trio of dwarves singing loudly and out of tune, what looks close to a dozen elves sitting at one of the larger tables, and dragonborne and tieflings scattered throughout the crowd. The smell of all these creatures is almost overpowerering, as you smell sweat, beer, and piss spread liberally throughout the bar. Close to a score of serving girls wind their way throughout the crowd, passing out beer and other liquors, and attempting to avoid getting pinched. Standing at the bar is a large, portly man with a smile, but sweat drips down his brow and he is constantly watching the crowd. Sitting near the door, and three to a group, are several groups of humans and dragonborne who constantly scan the crowd, and they are all wielding large cudgels.

Standing at a small stage is a young man playing the lute and singing a beautiful melody, and another young man juggles flaming torches for the amusement of the patrons. A small pile of coins and chunks of metal lay at their feet show that the crowd is fairly appreciative of their entertainment.

One of the Elves, a battleworn and scarred elder looks up and says grumpily "Get thee lost Tiefling, we hath no need for thine kind at this time! Back in the day, even Tieflings wouldst understood manners, and would not come near a group of Elven warriors; let alone the gall to befoul our beautiful tongue . . . "

A younger Elf looks up and frowns at the elder, "Shut thine yammering tongue Lethorial, and let the Sir Fury sit down, and I shall brooch no arguments this time old Elf." The younger Elf turns and looks at you with a smile as Lethorial sputters at the outrage, and turns to complain to one of the other Elves. "We shall be happy to let thee sit with us, on one condition. Thou must giveth not only thine name, but thou must also show any weapons thou may be carrying upon thine person. Of course, we shall do the same, but since thou hath come to us, thou must be willing to put out the first effort at peace." You have noticed that both of the Elves have a very suave and proper tone to their speech, and while they did not seem to mind the way you spoke to them in Elven, they are both speaking in common to you.

As you stand there, you can see that most of the Elves seem to not be paying attention to you, but several them have an air about them, as if they were ready to fight at the behest of the younger Elf. A quick look around shows that three groups of the humans and dragonborne were staring at you very hard, as if daring you to do something stupid. A serving girl, very petite and beautiful half-elf comes and refills some drinks for the band of Elves, and you notice that she has beautiful green eyes, and long, flowing chestnut hair. She flashes you a small smile, but her eyes have a small flicker of wariness in them.

The younger Elf smiles up at you, and with a nod, starts pulling weapons out of his clothes. Two shortswords, three daggers, two katars, and two hand-crossbows. The Elf then stands up and bows slightly at the waist, "Criasthum Zyros, Captain of the Falling Leaf, at thine service." He turns and motions for the rest of the Elven company to stand and show weapons and provide names.

Lethorial stands up and snarls at you, "Lethorial Laurles, Executioner of the Falling Leaf." Following this introduction, a heavy bladed double axe comes out from under the table, and he holds it lightly in one hand. Two Elves stand up, one male, one female, and place books and wands upon the table. They give their names and give you bows, "Jadesa and Lothos Glaseo, Mages of the Falling Leaf." Three Elves stand up, and one of them speaks up, "Theos, Leos, and Creos Maris, Hunters of the Falling Leaf." Three bows, and six rapiers follow this anouncement. They do not bow to you.

Another of the Elves stand up and smiles widely at you, and she winks as if sharing some joke. A mace and dagger hang from her belt. "Heather Laiyes, Holy Maiden of Corellon Latherian of the Falling Leaf." The remaining Elves don't even look up, and although Criasthum glares at them, he sighs, pulls up another chair for you, and sits down, waving for you to sit down.

You notice that most of the Elves stand up and lay weapons down upon the table, and you hear them give their names. No fight seems to be brewing, at least, not at this time, and you can relax.

Even as all this occurs in front of you, the rest of the bar seems to be filling up even more, more people keep coming in than those that are leaving, and eventually, a circle of empty tables shows up in front of the bar, and some of the lights start to go out.

A small, expectant hush flows through the room as the two entertainers stop what they were doing and move towards the makeshift stage. When each of the boys finds themselves a seat near the stage, a small murmuring fills the room. "Do you think Minedra will dance tonight?" "I know not, but if she does it shall be another worthwhile night amongst you poor." This last comes from a young man dressed in fine robes, and sporting a longsword with a gem-encrusted hilt. He has a look in his eyes that he is not even trying to hide; he has lust in his eyes for this Minedra, and her dance. He scowls around the room, and his two guards tighten their grips upon their spears.

The Elves around you turn, almost as one, towards the young man, and a scowl from Criasthum makes the young lord pause. A closer look lets you see that many of the Elves are holding their coin purses a little closer. The young serving lass who had given you a smile earlier has come back, "What may my lord wish to drink tonight?" She speaks with a beautiful lilt to her speech, and her eyes look relieved that a fight has not occured at her table.

The obvious stage, as it has shown itself to be, has been set. From your vantage, you can see the entirety of the bar, and many of the patrons are smiling and completely relaxed. The group of Elves look as if they are ready for a fight, and the Tiefling sitting with them is glancing about the room, seemingly at ease. Your serving girl returns with your drink, and a smile for you. In the darkness she slips you a small note, and her hand lingers upon yours for a split second longer than need be.

The bar keep stands upon his bar and speaks in a booming voice. "Who among you believes yourself to be worthy to watch and enjoy the beauty of Minedra, the dancing spirit?! Minedra has deigned to come to you heathens tonight, and you best not disrespect her!" Following this, a loud cheer erupts from the crowd, and many of them start to stomp their feet in time, as the two young men start playing their instruments to an upbeat and speedy tune.

Floating along the darkness, the serving maids were setting out drinks and food for the enjoyment of the patrons, and a trio of serving maids served the Elves. The Elven leader, Criasthum was handed a letter by a serving maid, and the contents made him smile, at least, that is the way it looked to any of the casual bystanders.

Spread out among the patrons, a few furtive figures flitted throughout the scene. One or two people looked around sharply when their purses were filched, but those figures were quickly prevented from saying anything to their fellows around them. As you sit at the Elven table, a small hand reaches around you towards where your purse should have been, and then withdraws just as steathily. A small sigh escapes the shadow behind you, and a whispered, "At least you are worthy of your purse," follows suit. As you turn your head, Lethorial grimaces at you, and stops you momentarily. When your head turns around completely, nothing is behind you.

I wish for you to leave as quickly and quietly as you can gentle sir, for your eyes hath shown yourself to be a kindly man, if a bit perverse. This area shall be engulfed in the flames of war and destruction, and it is my wish that you should keep your life. As you read these words, a pall of doom seems to come over you. If you so wish, you may meet me at the Inn of Quiet Rest, and I shall offer up to you a proper bit of gratitude for your show of appreciation. At the end of this line, a small kiss was placed upon the letter, and the letter was signed, Joann Floradreams. As you look up from the letter, you notice that several figures are stalking in the shadows amongst the patrons. Several patrons were killed by the stalking figures for noticing their movements.

As you glance about the room one last time, your eyes set upon an Eladrin man in the corner. In his hands he holds a small letter, and on his face is a broad smile. As he reads the letter, his face starts to pale, and a look of fear appears. He looks up quickly, and his eyes spot the shadows doing their dirty work amongst the patrons. A small forced smile appears on his face, and his face looks as if he has seen his own doom.

In the gloom of the rooms behind the bar, a beautiful female form dances sensually behind a sheer curtain. A small gasp escapes the crowd, as a strikingly beautiful Elven woman steps from behind the curtain, and her dance carries her up on the stage. As she steps on the stage, many of the groups of dragonborne and humans rush to surround the stage, and they take up a circle around the stage to act as a guard. Minedra, once she steps into the light, is easily one of the most beautiful women ever seen. Large, bottomless emerald eyes, and a small, pouting mouth brings to her beauty an innocent quality. Her silver hair is long and wavy, and it frames her face and body. Her body is small and petite, but perfectly formed, and her clothes fit upon her body in such a way as to leave nothing and much to the imagination. When she opens her lips, a beautiful, heart-rending voice sings a song of love and romance to the audience, as her dance brings thoughts of potential favors to most of the audience.