Chapter 3

As the liquid seeped into Tomas's mouth, he felt a spark of energy flow from it into him. He could sense something... that he couldn't see. That he didn't need to see.

Realizing this, he stopped rambling towards the furry person in front of him. His eyes followed his mouth in closing. Now he could sense it better. Something like a great big string pulled tight was passing through him - he could feel it - and as the potion's spark touched the string, it vibrated. A deep, soundless thrum in the core of his being.

He opened his eyes. The potion seemed to be glowing brighter, from Tomas's perspective. He could sense the kinship of his being and that of the potion's. He was fully confident he knew what this could do. Looking to his companions, he said...

— I'm a female. Corner of my mouth curls up slightly. It was not the first time humans we flustered, trying to guess tabaxi's gender. And not the last. And since we're sharing... I'm not a mercenary. You can say, that I'm a 'Seeker'. I look for ancient history in all shapes and forms. That's my passion. Well, my whole family's passion to be precise.

  I sit down on the ground, while looking at stuff being taken out of the chest, while keeping an eye out on anything that would look... Historical or ancient.

— I was on one of such pursuits and found an ... Item. At first is 'shown' me one of you. I point towards the half-orc. And just recently I got a 'vision' of a baldy here, tossing a coin. After that I felt pulled towards this place. And here I am. Having no idea why and what brought me here, but very curious to find out.

  After finishing my monologue, I take a swig from a waterskin and look how the rest react to my story.

Herod is still reeling from the elemental assault. Though, he considers the cat’s words carefully.

Vhat diju see in zis drream? Vhat vherr ve do-ving in zhe drream, aside frrom fleeping zhe coin?

— I never said that it was a dream. Just... A vision. Anyway - you flipped a coin and it disappeared in the direction of the sun. That was all. I answer to the monk, while taking out the map from my backpack, together with compass. So, which town are you planning to protect? And what kind of danger it will be facing?

Ronda is dying to know what this cat-person saw of her in this vision of hers, but there are more pressing matters. "Hey, don't we have a mad wizard to find? We can talk on the way. Tomas here knows the most about this town and the job we've been hired to do. He'll tell you."

"Healing potions. Military grade. Strong stuff. I'll take this one, since I've tasted it already. Who wants the other?"

Tomas holds out the other healing potion, offering it up. After someone takes it off his hands, the half-elf mercenary picks up his share of coin and adds it to his pouch.

"Ah, good questions, Moon. Also, about your passion, I should have something quite interesting to show you when we find a place to sit. But, here, as Ronda said, we should be on our way to meet our mad wizard. So, there's a group called the Western Trading Company and they own a small town called the Berda Trading Outpost. So, the start of this unfortunate story is after me and a friend of mine sign up to work for the Trading Company. We meet Herod here and get along just peachy. One night, though, we're attacked by these fearsome magical creatures and next thing you know...

Tomas tells the story to Moon as best as he's able, occasionally pausing for a bit and sometimes correcting himself after the intermittent silences, and then asks a good number of questions about Moon's people/heritage - having never met one of her like before. Eventually, they come upon the tower on the coastline.

"I'll take that." Ronda says, reaching for the other potion. She gives it a little sniff before putting it away.

  My eyes begin to glow when Tomas first mentions an ancient dungeon, but I restrain myself. For now. There will be time to get as much information as possible about it when the group isn't on the move.

  When asked about my people, I'm a bit lost to what to tell. Honestly, how much anyone can tell about their race? "We are just us".

"Is this him?" Ronda asks, pointing at the gnome. "This the crazy wizard?"

"Yes, please! Nice to meet you, Arwen, I'm Tomas. What type of wizard are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

The half-elf near the front of the group stands in rough-looking chainmail, shield strapped to one arm, war pick dangling from his belt. His hair is shaggy and his beard still growing out in patches, courtesy of his elven lineage. Still, he smiles brightly at the gnome and somehow this unkempt look works for the warrior. A particularly insightful individual might note a look of worry that passes through the man's eyes even as he smiles, however.