The River Lords were an oddly-named bunch. None of them was a lord, or in fact a noble of any kind, and no one would mistake the stream upon which their mutual association had been founded for a river. It was a large, respectable stream to be sure, but not one anybody could honestly call a river. But somebody — no one was certain which of them it had been now — had suggested the name over one too many mugs of ale, and it had stuck.
Had it really only been two years since they came together outside of a town in flames, the stream's waters running red and black, to turn back a flow of Corrupted beasts that threatened to spill over from the fallen, condemned lands of the Lilac Kingdom into the hitherto peaceful Dragon Potentate?
Two years since a call had frantically gone out from the Lilac Palace, begging adventurers in neighboring kingdoms for assistance against a demonic incursion. Two years since minstrels began spreading the scandalous news that Lilac had indeed produced a [Hero], whom they had condemned as a Renegade and murdered in cold blood.
For that, some said, the Kingdom deserved to burn. Others reasonably pointed out that this had been the work of a very, very few malicious individuals, and why should the bulk of the Kingdom's citizens who knew nothing of the Hero, let alone had any part in his death, bear the guilt for his murder? But deserved or not, Lilac was burning, and rotting, overwhelmed piecemeal by Corruption.
With no [Hero] to turn them back, the best that neighboring lands could do was to contain the damage. Some [Scholar]s theorized that Corruption fed upon fresh life, and if it could be held back for long enough, it would wither and die even without the need for a [Hero], and while this had never truly been proven, it was the best hope that they had.
The only hope, really. Up until now, the [System] had always provided a [Hero] to oppose a Demon Lord whenever one arose. No one had been dumb enough to mistake them for a Renegade and kill them off before, so the lands were in uncharted territory, and faring poorly.
After two grueling years on the front lines, the small band of adventurers turned half-mercenaries-half-conscripts had reached the end of their contract with the Dragon Potentate. And while Lieutenant Colonel Clay had offered them some excellent incentives to re-enlist, the adventurers unanimously decided against it.
Afterall, good pay was only worthwhile if you lived to spend it. And they had already lost one of their number.
Only one among the group was originally of the Dragon Potentate. Alexander Ere, a tall, lean, tan-skinned [Duelist], led his companions along the half-week's ride to his hometown of Boral's Leap, a mining town in the hilly country where the land was slowly transitioning from plains to the Dragonhome Mountains.
"You're sure they'll let us down there?" asked Gina Gosa, the team's [Crystal Gardener]. Pale of skin and dark of hair, the slender woman hailed from the Serpent Isles and looked no older than 25, with a certain air of innocence to her that could easily fool someone who had never been in combat alongside her. Most with only an academic knowledge of her Class would describe it as a type of scholar, but those people had never seen how utterly terrifying a [Crystal Gardener] could be against a pack of monsters.
"How many times do you have to ask, Gina?" David Marrison asked, rolling his eyes. His Class was [Paladin], but he didn't wear the heavy plate armor or carry a shield like the stereotypical image would conjure up. An Eagle Kingdom native, the redheaded man grew out an auburn beard to hide his too-youthful, almost pretty face, and preferred gambeson for ease of movement, relying on protective magic as he darted here and there to heal a comrade or crush a demon's bones with his blessed mace. "They mine iron and copper here, that's all they really care about because that's all they know how to process. If there's any exotic magedust to be found, they'd almost certainly be happy to have you take it off their hands because they wouldn't know what to do with it themselves and it's too much of a hassle to sell in faraway towns."
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"I know, I know," Gina said as Alexander nodded along to the repeated description. "But Alex, you've been gone five years now, yeah? What if things have changed?"
"Then we'll find out once we get there," said Carolyn Oka, the team's [Scout]. Petite and curvaceous, the dark-skinned, pointed-eared woman vehemently denied any Dark Elven ancestry, pointing to her short stature as if that were definitive disproof of dark elven blood and implausibly claiming to be the product of a brief tryst between an elvish [Bard] and a dark-skinned human [Seamstress] from the distant Cactus Empire. She had the accent if nothing else. "Asking the same questions again and again will change nothing. Why are you more nervous here than on the battlefield?"
"`s cause she knows what she's doing there," teased Charles Garas, the last member of their band. As an [Alchemist], his skillset most closely overlapped with Gina's, and the two frequently collaborated on projects when they weren't sustaining a mock-bitter rivalry over who could create the bigger explosion. "With a clear target, she can be our favorite adorable death-geek, putting demons' and monsters' insides on the outside all day long and half the night. But make her have to talk to someone, and she's just a geek geek, going helplessly tongue-tied." Charles was a native of Spearhome, with the blond hair, dark green eyes, and stocky build common to his countrymen.
Gina glowered at him. "Yaah, shut up or your insides are next, friend," she grumbled, but without any real heat to it. "I'm low on supplies, and I can't just pick or brew up new stuff like how you do."
"No, you just distill yours literally out of thin air," Charles retorted, rolling his eyes.
"That's only one—"
"We approach," Alexander said as they crested an outlying hill and a farm came into view, abruptly cutting off their banter.
"Well what're we waiting on?" Carolyn asked. "Let's get a roof over our heads! Hyaah!" She shook her reins, urging her mount forward, and the rest of them followed at a brisk canter.
Soon enough, the town came into view, and Alexander led them to the Miners' Repose inn. After they'd stabled their mounts, they trudged inside and found a table.
As a [Wench] passed by their table, she squinted at him and cocked her head to the side. "...Alex? Little Alex Ere, izzat you?"
He regarded her with a soft sigh and a nigh-imperceptible nod of his head. "Sofia."
She laughed and stepped up, crouching slightly to hug the seated adventurer. "Talkative as ever! Does your family know you're back? It's been, what? Six years?"
David looked over at her. "We've had a hard few days' travel; we'd like to avoid drawing attention at least until we've got some good food in us and a night's sleep in proper beds."
"And drinks," Carolyn said. "Bring us lots of good ale, and then even more than that!"
"None for me," Gina said. She knew better than to indulge around this lot; that route always led to throbbing headaches and embarrassing tales about her the next morning. "Just some cool water to wash the road dust down."
The [Wench] returned quickly enough with tankards for everyone, and Gina undid a pouch at her belt, taking a quick trip around the table and dropping a tiny pinch of arctis in everyone's drinks, bringing smiles to her party's faces as they saw frost begin to form around the rims of the vessels. Sitting down again, she raised her water. "To Lev. May he never truly be gone, so long as any of us remembers him."
"To Lev!" the others chorused, clinking now-chilled tankards against each other and gulping down their first drinks of the night. It would not be their last. Lev had been a River Lord, one of their own, but they had lost many companions and friends throughout the past two years.