You are Mouse, an ogre raised by a human family in secret, then orphaned by a pitchfork mob and taken in by the dark elf queen Olga as one of her knights. Upon retrieving a relic of an evil god at behest of your queen you made a vow in honour of your mother to rid the world of the taint inflicted upon it.
You are accompanied by Phineous, the sophisticated orcish duelist, Smutkin, the formerly outcast bard, Sparky the light infused imp and Tithe the diminutive gargoyle chiselled out of sanctified marble block as a joke.
You have earned loyalty of twin golems consecrated to the goddess, which you named Minerva and Diana, and a royal courier of house Arcturus named Elle who you've rescued from grim end at hands of bandits.
This is your story.
Previous thread:
>>5385188Having spent some time in the library of castle governed by house Levantine you have determined you'd need to eat and process what you've learned so far and imagine your comrades would be in similar situation. After some consideration you decide to try and look for the keep's mess hall where Klaus and Claudia's hospitality should warrant you a meal.
It only takes a question to one of the guards watching over the library to tell you direction and after short trip navigating the castle corridors your group of four walks into a relatively spacious hall lined with tables, with fire pits and a large cauldron hugging one of the walls, alongside with tapped barrels of ale.
The hall is not currently empty. There's maybe two dozen people scattered around the tables, and few more from the kitchen staff handling the fire pits and cauldron. The soldiers have been busy eating and chatting among themselves, but few moments after you enter, the room falls quiet and only crackling of the flames and bubbling of the cauldron can be heard as everyone stares in your direction. Some with caution or concern, but virtually all with some measure of anger or hatred.
Maybe coming here was not the best idea.
"Mouse, over here!"
Luckily there are two familiar faces to be seen. Elle's smile is out of place enough, but Diana's flawless white form truly stands out.
Elle's call seems to have broken the moment and the hall gradually returns to slightly below its standard level of noise as conversations are resumed. You can still tell concerned or hateful looks are being tossed in your direction, though. Fortunately, nobody makes an openly aggressive move as your presence has been made known to the men.
You approach the courier and she leaves her bowl of porridge to lead your group to the cauldron where she negotiates what appears to be an extra helping with a good piece of roast, resulting in the spectrum of hostile glares being widened by addition of envy. You shrug it off, internally bemoaning that the men are more than justified to view you as they do and follow Elle back to her place at the table.
