IMPETITUS, TEMPLAR OF THE BLUE FLAME
In a shimmering of bright light, Impetitus Caseo the Third materialized. He arrived in an expansive space at the center of a large encampment. Behind him was an erected wooden altar to Caeriggnas, lord of the Blue Flame. Spread out around the center. There were dozens of tents varying in size and several large merchant stalls. Impetitus turned and knelt before the altar. He held his hands clasped together over his forehead and bowed his head. His fingers flickered to represent the burning of the Holy Blue Flame.
There were half a dozen bright flashes as other adventurers appeared. Hardly any of them paid homage to the altar. They arrived grumbling and discarded their used, cracked Returning Gems to a large pile. They moved on to the tents to find rest, food, or new equipment. Another flash and Verene appeared.
“You said you knew where the blasted goblins went. These gems are not cheap,” Impetitus growled to the dark-haired mage thief. The Templar rose to his impressive height and added his used gem to the growing pile.
Verene waved her arms, mumbled an incantation, and snapped her fingers. A glowing map left her pouch to unroll before her floating in the air. Her right hand was glowing, and she marked a small “x” on the map. There were several other “x”s that showed the places she and the Templar had searched. She crossed her arms and rested one hand on her chin as she studied the map.
“I do not understand how we are not finding them, we Raided the place they called Haven months ago, but it must be moving somehow,” she wondered. After a moment, she shrugged and snapped her finger, and the map returned to her pouch.
Impetitus recalled the Raid to a portal that took them deep into the dungeon where they fought demons. A real challenge! Not puny goblins. He scowled. “I’m getting tired of your excuses,” he said.
Verene looked at the Templar. She was thinking. She tapped her chin and then spun on her heel to walk toward the large merchant stalls. Her steps kicked up a cloud of dust. Impetitus stood in disbelief that she would turn her back on him and leave. He sprinted after her.
“Where do you think you are going?” He demanded.
“To get a drink and some food. I think more clearly after I have eaten,” Verene answered without looking over her shoulder.
The two walked to a large tent. It had a bar and a large pavilion for guests to sit and be out of the scorching sun of the Wasteland. A large bald man with green skin and a single tusk tooth stood behind the bar with a dirty rag over his broad shoulder. The half-orc nodded to Verene as she came up.
“Tusk, the usual,” she ordered and slapped a coin on the bar. Tusk nodded and filled a wooden tankard with foaming ale from a barrel. The large half-orc served Verene the ale and a plate with hard bread and cheese.
“Sir, I will have the same,” Impetitus said and sat next to the mage thief.
The two ate and drank in silence. Impetitus attempted to ask what the plan was, but Verene ignored him. She was thinking. All around them, other adventurers bustled to and fro. A group of dwarves, dusty from the road, sat at a table under the tarp. They were loud, and one complained that the bartender had mistakenly given them moose piss instead of ale. At another table, a group of mixed-raced adventurers were discussing how to return to Adventure Port. They would need to trek across the monster-invested Wasteland. They just completed a run and had lots of treasure. However, they didn’t want to spend much gold hiring a wagon.
“Ahh, Verene, you are a blessed sight for these poor eyes,” A weasel of a man said as he came up to the bar beside her.
“Not in the mood Cacher,” she answered, barely glancing at the man.
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Her eyes widened as she noticed that he was wearing plain clothes with a simple rapier strapped to his side. The usually extravagant rogue wore the most expensive clothes and used the finest gear.
“By the Gods, did you die again?” She asked.
“Ya, a sneaky trap got me. But by the grace of Viaiter, she deemed me worthy of continuing,” the rogue said, invoking the name of the goddess of the road. The man made a holy sign and then kissed his hand and raised it up to the sky.
Impetitus scowled. He was in the company of scoundrels.
“Verene, as you can see, I’m down on my luck. I could use a little coin to get better gear. There is a dungeon that is waiting for me to loot.”
“Walk away, old man. Mayhaps Viaiter let you come back because she couldn’t stand having you in her realm.”
“Is that how you talk to an old friend?”
“We are not friends,” Verene said with a rich laugh, but her eyes showed no mirth.
“Did she tell you how we met?” Cacher asked Impetitus.
“Do not speak to me, you scoundrel,” Impetitus scolded.
“Bah, templars,” the rogue said and turned back to Verene. “Well then, I have information that interests you.”
“Spit it out.”
“In good faith, mayhaps you can give me some coin up front,” the rogue said, rubbing his finger and thumb together.
“I am not in the mood for games, Cacher. Share what you know and if it interests me. I’ll reward you.”
“It has something to do with the goblins you were looking for…” the old rogue hinted.
“Share what you know!” Impetitus demanded, and he grabbed the man by his shirt.
Cacher laughed because now he knew the price for his information just went up. Verene rolled her eyes in disgust at the ignorance of the Templar. What leverage she had, the big oaf had thrown it away.
“Name your price Cacher,” she said.
“One hundred gold crowns.”
“By the Blue Flame!” Impetitus exclaimed.
“You’ll get 10,” Verene said and slapped the coins on the table.
“Give me twenty-five, and you can be on your merry way.”
“15, or hope Viaiter welcomes you back after you attempt the dungeon with your pitiful gear.”
The two stared at each other. Each waiting to see a crack. A weakness. Impetitus recognized that this was outside his skill set and remained silent.
“Make it an even 18, and we can do business, no?” Cacher ventured.
Verene nodded, and the two shook hands. The old rogue counted his coins.
“Spit out what you know,” Verene hissed.
“Word as it. A group went hunting for the reward on the Orc Prince’s head. Went up to the ruined city. An elf returned. He said he barely escaped and that the prince had help from some formidable goblins. The elf was furious to be bested by the little buggers.”
“Where are these ruins?” Impetitus asked.
Verene had the map out, and the old man marked the spot. That concluded their business. The old rogue departed.
“Do you think that they are still there?” The Templar asked.
“Not likely. We know that they were passing through,” Verene said, marking the path of the goblin’s journey from their tribe through the city ruins. There were several “x”s that marked where she and the Templar had searched in the past few days. That narrowed down considerably where the goblins could have gone. There was one spot that the two had not explored, and it was the likely area the goblins had gone to.
“Calling brave warriors. Brave adventurers. Come and aid me on a quest to purge the land of evil,” A cleric shouted from near the altar.
The cleric was dressed in white robes over mail armor. They carried a heavy metal shield with the symbol of a Blue Flame decorated on the front. At their hip was a heavy mace. A small crowd was forming to hear more about this quest. It was almost as if the cleric had a giant glowing exclamation mark over their head, the way people were drawn to him. The cleric looked across the open space and spotted a member of his own church.
“Hail Templar! Brother in arms! Come and aid me on the quest to rid the evil from the Old Cemetery. There within lies a vial heathen that must be purged! The villain, Chalal Von Issen, has eluded justice for his many crimes. Come, Templar, will you join us?” The cleric cried to Impetitus.
“If that is not a sign of where we should go next. I would hang up my sword and become a farmer,” the Templar said. The mage thief nodded. They were to join a Raid against the Old Cemetery.