The Age of Heroes was a time when creation, both mundane and magical, lived in constant fear of the lurking darkness. Yet, this era also brimmed with opportunities for the exceptionally strong, wise, clever, or brave to rise as legendary heroes, forever etching their names in history. Dragons were slain, wars won, and peace established. As children grew up with tales of these heroes, they aspired to become legends themselves.

Now, the age has passed. Mercenary groups, though abundant, find work scarce in this peaceful time. They must adapt to survive.

Our story begins in Seraphel, a bustling city on the western shore, a hub of trade and culture where creatures of all shapes and sizes converge to seek their destinies. Today, a meeting of one of the most recognizable mercenary troops has been called, not at their usual headquarters, but at a tavern—the starting point of all great adventures.

In the heart of Seraphel, where the salty breeze from the nearby shore mingled with the aroma of ale and roasted meats, the tavern stood as a haven for weary travelers and bold adventurers alike. Within its timeworn walls, the air thrummed with anticipation as the first rays of the setting sun cast a golden hue upon the scene.

Through the tavern's weathered door, a figure emerged, their bluish skin contrasting with the warm hues of the tavern's interior. Bug, a goblin of boundless energy and curiosity, entered with a spring in their step. Their eyes, gleaming like polished sapphires, darted around the room, taking in every detail with eager fascination. Clad in a mishmash of leather armor and adorned with an array of trinkets, Bug exuded an aura of excitement that was infectious to all who beheld them.

Not far behind, Delores Paradise, a halfling of cheerful disposition and infectious warmth, made her entrance. With her favorite dress adorned with embroidered apples swaying with each step, she exuded a sense of homey comfort that seemed to envelop the room. From her bag peeked the crumpled remains of apple slices, a testament to her thoughtful nature and penchant for sharing joy in the form of sweet treats.

As Bug and Delores exchanged greetings and shared smiles, the tavern door swung open once more, admitting Koda, an elf of graceful poise and quiet confidence. With Snake's Talon, his prized blade, sheathed at his side, Koda exuded an air of quiet strength tempered by a keen intellect. His eyes, the color of newly sprouted leaves, swept over the room with a sense of purpose, seeking out familiar faces amidst the crowd.

Amidst the bustling tavern, a rumble reverberated through the floorboards, signaling the arrival of their final companion. Bursting through the door with a resounding thud, Fernie, an eight-foot-tall warforged crafted from ancient wood, made their grand entrance. With a cry for libations that echoed through the rafters, Fernie strode confidently to the bar, their metallic joints creaking with each step.

"Alcohol!" Fernie boomed, their voice reverberating through the tavern like the tolling of a bell.

Bug's eyes lit up with recognition as they greeted their towering companion. "Nice to meet you. I must be working with you. I'm Bug." Bug exclaimed, extending a hand in greeting.

Fernie returned the gesture with a clank of metal against flesh. "Indeed, my friend. Fernie's the name," they replied with a metallic chuckle.

As the group settled in at the bar, the bartender raised an eyebrow at Fernie's request for a barrel of ale, but as Delores was about to pay a voice cut through the din, beckoning our motley crew to attention. Sitting in a booth far too large for just one, Krungdar the Bloodsmyth, an orc of imposing stature and seasoned experience, flagged down his companions with a broad grin and a hearty wave.

"Hey guys, good to see ya! Come on down, I've got seats for all of us," Krungdar called out, his voice carrying easily over the din of the tavern. His presence, as always, was a beacon of strength and assurance to those who knew him.

With eager anticipation, Bug, Delores, Koda, and Fernie made their way over to the booth, their steps quickened by the promise of adventure and the familiar camaraderie of their companions. Each one bore the unmistakable mark of a seasoned adventurer, their eyes alight with the fire of past triumphs and the promise of new challenges.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

As they settled into their seats, Krungdar wasted no time in getting down to business. "Thank you for meeting today, I really appreciate y'all joining me again," he began, his voice tinged with a hint of awkwardness. "For those of you that are, maybe, a little bit hard of memory and intelligence, I'm Krungdar the Bloodsmyth. It's great to work with you again."

With a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, the group listened as Krungdar revealed the reason for their gathering. Budget cuts had forced them to make a significant change: they were no longer mercenaries, but delivery workers.

"There's been some budget cuts, folks," Krungdar explained, gesturing towards a nearby job listing board adorned with hardened mercenaries. "We're doing our best to stay afloat, but like all good things, we gotta make a little pivot here and there."

Despite initial skepticism, Krungdar's assurances of good pay and the promise of adventure in their new role began to sway the group. "I know you guys have only been on a few adventures with each other at this point," Krungdar admitted, "but when I look at you four specifically, I know in my heart that you're the ones who didn't quit yet, so, you're right for this job."

As questions were answered and doubts assuaged, Krungdar presented them with their first delivery task: transporting a stone tablet to the Grendell marshes. The weighty responsibility of their new role hung in the air, but so too did the promise of camaraderie and shared triumphs.

As the group stepped outside the bustling tavern, they were greeted by the sight of a sizable wagon, its wooden frame sturdy and weathered from countless journeys. The wagon, though not the epitome of comfort, boasted enough space to accommodate a massive warforged, a couple of smaller individuals, and a typically sized elf. Its presence loomed large, casting a shadow over the cobblestones as if beckoning them towards their next adventure.

Standing proudly before the wagon was Gunthar, a stern-looking centaur whose imposing stature commanded attention. His human torso was adorned with rippling muscles, accentuated by the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees overhead. A mane of long, black hair cascaded down his back, swaying gently with each movement, while a hint of stubble adorned his chiseled jawline.

Delores couldn't help but admire the centaur's rugged appearance, her gaze lingering on his powerful form. "Wow," she breathed out, her voice filled with awe.

"He's quite the sight, isn't he?" Bug chimed in, his excitement palpable as he took in Gunthar's impressive physique.

As the group approached, Gunthar's gaze swept over them with a hint of skepticism, his expression stern yet not unkind. "Yeah, I'm Gunthar," he replied gruffly in response to Bug's question. "I'm gonna be taking you to the Grendell Marshes. All right. I don't want no funny business. Okay. My wagon, I wanna keep this thing pristine."

"Absolutely," Koda replied, nodding earnestly. "We'll treat it with the utmost care."

With the logistics of seating arrangements sorted out, Gunthar demonstrated his expertise in handling the horse that would pull their wagon. With a sharp whistle, he summoned the majestic creature forward, its powerful muscles rippling beneath its glossy coat as it trotted obediently to his side.

As Gunthar settled himself into the driver's seat, his hooves deftly guiding the reins, the group prepared to embark on their journey. The wagon lurched forward, its wheels creaking in protest against the uneven terrain as they set off towards the Grendell Marshes.

As they traveled, the midday sun cast a warm glow over the landscape, illuminating the verdant fields and distant hills with a golden light. Despite the novelty of their mode of transportation and the excitement of the journey ahead, there was an underlying sense of camaraderie and anticipation among them, a shared bond forged in the fires of adventure.

As the wagon rumbled along the dusty road, the rhythmic clopping of hooves providing a steady soundtrack to their journey, Bug's voice pierced through the air.

"Hey, hey, Gunthar," Bug called out, his words carrying over the sounds of their travels. "Just don't want my friends, my new coworkers to hear me back there."

At the front of the wagon, Gunthar let out a hearty chuckle, his deep voice resonating against the backdrop of the rolling countryside. "They are like two feet away. Just like sitting there…" he replied, his tone tinged with amusement.

In the middle of the wagon, nestled amongst his companions, Delores couldn't help but interject. "Guys… We can hear you, Bug!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with exasperation.

But Bug seemed undeterred, intent on continuing his conversation with Gunthar. "I believe on the first day of a job, you shouldn't show any weaknesses," he confessed, his words tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "But I'm nauseous as hell back here. Would you mind if I could get on your lap?"

Gunthar considered Bug's request for a moment, his gaze flickering between the goblin and the road ahead. "So it's either you sitting on my lap or throwing up in my wagon," he replied with a wry grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement at the absurdity of the situation.