The old wooden stairs creaked and groaned from the weighted steps of the visitor, whose arms were laden down with all manner of pens, paper and leather bound books.  A nervous energy filled the air of the normally dormant home it was as if there was a new life within the place. At the top of the stairs the visitor was greeted by a stern looking fellow, whose lean frame was dwarfed by the overly imposing nature in which he stood.<br/><br/>“Are you the bard?” the somewhat cold voice from the incredibly thin lips the figure at the top of the stairs possessed.<br/><br/>“Yes, sir I am. Might I inquire as to the nature of m-“<br/><br/>“Come with me,” his words cut off the poor bard midsentence, before he turned and walked down the hall to the single door at the end. It was opened and the thin lipped imposing fellow stood to the side to allow the bard entrance.<br/><br/>“Thank you, sir, might I trouble you for a gla—“the door slammed again cut off his words and the bard was left staring at where the man had just been a moment before. A sigh left the defeated lips of the bard who resolved himself with taking a closer look about the room he was now left in. Drapes hung on the windows, hiding nearly all the light which made the room appear dim and more like a museum than a place where someone was supposed to live. Antiques and relics from a time long forgotten were proudly displayed in all their glory, though a fine layer of dust had settled on them. If would appear that they were cleaned, not often, but they were cleaned. Everything from swords, books, jewelry and even a full suit of platemail armor was on display. It was this armor that stalled his steps, eyes on the polished metal that held a blue hue, though he could swear it was just steel. Temptation tickled his mind and he reached forward, slowly to try and touch the emblazoned Dragon that stood out.<br/><br/>“I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”<br/><br/>The voice startled the entranced bard who jumped and dropped his arm load of papers, books and other writing implements.<br/><br/>“Oh! Sir, I am so sorry,” he stammered an apology while he gathered up his stuff as quickly as possible. “I was just…admiring the craftsmanship and…”<br/><br/>“Yes yes yes, I know. That suit more than once has caused a man to lose himself,” the voice was old and held a dry quality to it that reminded him much of the dry pieces of parchment that the bard was now trying to gather back up in a neat pile. “If you would please hurry with gathering your things,” the sound of a match being struck drew his attention. The amber light from the small flame illuminated a worn and weathered face that had seen better years of a man who lay on a grand bed that was far too big from his depleted form.<br/><br/>The scent of smoke filled the air, as the match was used to light a pipe that looked to be as old as the man; the bright burning embers at its end the only thing that appeared to have any life within the relic of a pipe.<br/><br/>“Of course sir,” the bard finally gathered all of his belongings before he walked over toward the bed, where he stood and waited for his next instruction.<br/><br/>It was several drags of the pipe later before, “Sit down already!” The man barked, which caused him to fall into a fit of coughs and prompted the bard to try and assist him with a few pats on the back. “Leave it!” the man growled and the bard instead took a seat on the chair by the bed while the man continued to cough before he finally hocked up a mouth of sit into a rag at his side. It was tinged in red, a fact that caused the bard some stress though at this point he had learned better than to speak out of turn. “Now,” the old man began once his composure was regained. “Do you know why you are here?”<br/><br/>“I was sent here by my guild, you wanted a bard to take down your story. Correct?” he asked the man, a clear lack of confidence in his voice.<br/><br/>The man smiled and the bard thought that perhaps he had made a mistake? That maybe he should just excuse himself before something happened.<br/><br/>“Yes and no,” another pull from his pipe, the smoke slowly released through his nostrils. “I have a story, yes, but it is not my story…” another drag from his pipe, the smoke released in the same fashion as the last. “This is the story of a group of heroes who went on a quest for me…long ago…”<br/><br/><div><hr style="height:2px; width:100%; border:0; color: blue;background:blue;"/></div><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 130%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">The area was nothing more than what looked to be a hole in the side of a hill, just large enough for people to squeeze through one at a time. It was here that they were to meet before they made the trip inside, only having a brief meeting with one another the night before when they had sat with their employer who gave them the location of this hole. The details were vague save for one thing, money and glory beyond any of them could ever dream.</span></span>