>>6108227>“Very well then. You’re welcome to come along, Adeline. Just don’t forget that I’m the one that calls the shots around here, understood?”Adeline nods. “I defer to your command, Lord Tristain.”
>Adeline joined the party!>Adeline>Level 21 Armor KnightHP: 49/49 (90%)
Strength: 21 (80%)
Speed: 4 (20%)
Defense: 21 (80%)
Resistance: 0 (10%)
Weapon: Steel Lance (+12 Attack)
Skill: Guard Stance (Redirect attacks meant for an adjacent party member to yourself. Targeted party members will still counter attack.)
Alvin finishes mending your wounds, and the night passes without any more incidents. Your party had grown considerably, but there was still more to do in Solis before venturing forth. Alvin had mentioned Murillo’s Companions as a place where you could attract potential mercenaries to join your cause. You wanted to stop by there and explore the possibility of winning more allies to your side. You awake the next morning bright and early, feeling refreshed. It almost felt like you hadn’t drank too much, nor taken several grievous wounds.
Walking through Solis, you find that just like the previous night, everyone in your path steers clear of you. Evidently word had already gotten around about your encounter with Gideon, and you were rightfully seen as a dangerous threat both by other contenders, as well as the locals. Murillo’s Companions lies on the opposite end of where The Scrying Orb was, so you are fortunate enough to not need to return to the scene of last night’s escapades. The building where the caravan guards reside is large and ornate in design. It takes up the entire plaza it resides in, which is clean and lush with greenery. You could tell just from their domain that these were no ordinary sellswords. They must have been the best Solis had to offer. You and your companions enter the establishment. The inside is large, and the walls are lined with mounted weapons, colorful paintings and stuffed heads. Some of these were the bones of animals, but the largest amongst them were something else. Likely the remains of Terrors that had been turned into trophies. There were four people inside.
A grizzled, older gentleman with gray hair and the dark complexion of the desert sits behind a large desk in the center of the room. At his side is another man sharing the same skin tone. In his hands was a sharp looking curved sword with a jeweled pommel. Together, they were staring at two other men standing before them. One was a tired looking knight with shaggy blonde hair and a wicked scar across his eye. The other was…
“By the Goddess! As I live and breathe…is that really you, Tristan?!”
Elric von Boramus. Scion of the county of Boramus, which happened to be Rusalka’s neighbor. He was a few years your junior, and from what you could always remember, an annoying little twerp with far too much enthusiasm.
