Shroudpass Village was a collection of various sized homes and barns, as well as a tavern, an inn, and a central market square for trading. The village sat at the bottom of a bowl, formed by surrounding hills, and The Steel Peaks to the north. The villagers worked with a community mindset, trading foods and goods amongst each other. On occasion, merchants would come from the capital, or elsewhere, to peddle their own wares. It was a quiet, peaceful little village, in every way but its namesake.
Shroudpass Village was named after the infamous cave system of the same name. The southern entrance to the Shroudpass caves was a days march North of the village. The village and its people would be the last civilizations travelers would see before venturing into the caves. Another entrance exists, though much farther north and west, on the other side of the mountain range.
Shroudpass used to be a successful trade route under the mountain. Dwarf colonies had set up at various intervals within the route, acting as rest stops and the like. Those days were prosperous, for everyone in Northern Aesoria. Until something came up from underneath. Dwarven colonies vanished overnight, leaving no trace of civilization. Word spread of monsters coming out of the cave systems. Both main entrances were blown, to prevent anything from escaping too close to society. And the villages left behind to guard the blasted tunnels grew cold, and forgotten.
Regardless of its tragic and mysterious past, the people of Shroudpass Village were happy with their simple lifestyles. The small population consisted of mainly Humans, with a few Dwarves, Halflings, and Half-Orcs thrown into the pot. The tavern, The Frozen Tap, and the Inn, Steel Respite, made the most actual money in the village. As well as the local Lord, Lord Quinn, a Halfling noble who lazily kept the village running on behalf of the capital, Chillreach.
All this, and more, Lewis was flooding into Cassandra's ears as they approached the first homesteads. The warrior stopped listening about an hour ago, but Lewis didn't care. He was a learned individual, and simply wanted to share his knowledge.
But Cassandra ignored the history lesson, instead taking in their surroundings as they entered the village. The Villagers were starting to wind down for the day. It was after midday, by a few hours, so people were beginning to flock home for the eve. More than one villager allowed their stares to linger on the siblings. Cassandra noticed every look. Every movement. Her eyes and ears were honed to perfection. A warriors senses. While her brother rambled about the villages past, Cassandra scanned the area. No one villager stood out among the others. No one showed any signs of violence, yet. Cassandra was always ready for violence.
"We should make our way to the Respite, I need a bed." Cassandra had heard Lewis saying.
"I could go for a warm drink first. Or at least, a drink that makes me feel warm. Care to join me?"
"Actually I don't really-" His sister hooked her arm into his, and pulled him towards the tavern before he could protest any more. It's not like he could have fought her anyways.
The Frozen Tap was not an extraordinary establishment by any means. But, unlike the implications of its name, the taps were flowing, and the interior was warm. Enough for Cassandra that is. Lewis seemed uncomfortable, but Cassandra didn't think it would last. Not once he got some brew in his belly.
They grabbed a couple stools at the bar. Lewis kept his staff between him and his sister, leaning against the counter. Cassandra asked the barkeep, a middle-aged Human man with receding black hair, and a patchy beard, for two ales. Which Lewis promptly argued, "Uhm, no. Just water for me, thanks."
The next few minutes consisted of back and forth arguing between the two. Ending with two mugs of ale, and a glass of water sitting on the counter. Cassandra tossed a silver coin to the barkeep, telling to keep the change, as long as he answered a question.
The barkeep leaned forward onto one elbow, an eager eye scanning the warrior woman. "What's on ya mind, lass?"
"I'm looking for a Dwarf woman. By the name of Daerma. Supposed to be around here." Cassandra kept her voice low, and polite. Mixing feminine charm, with disciplined training.
At the mention of the Dwarf woman's name, the barkeep twitched ever so slightly. A normal commoner would have missed the reaction. But Cassandra's trained eyes and mind noticed, and understood it.
The burly man answered her, "Ain't met no one by that name. My apologies miss."
Cassandra put on a fake smile, "Don't worry about it. I'm sure we'll run into her" She grabbed her drink, and noticed footsteps approaching. There were a handful of other patrons around them, but none she had recognized. So why was this man approaching her brother?
Lewis seemed to notice him too, as he shot a glance toward Cassandra.
The man was tall, with wide shoulders. With long blonde hair, and a matching beard. He walked up behind Lewis, and his hand landed on the mage's shoulder, as Cassandra's hand dropped to her axe.
The man spoke in a loud voice, with a light slur, "So yer a fuckin' Wizerd am ye? Whelp. Go on then magic man. Cast us a spell then!" The man laughed and the table he came from, three more equally drunk men, burst out in annoying laughter as well.
Lewis gave his sister a pleading look, to which she replied with a shrug and a sip of her ale. Resigned, Lewis took a healthy swig of his own ale, and spun out of the chair, grabbed his staff, and stood to his full height to match the drunk man, all in one motion. Cassandra was impressed, and decided on two more mugs of ale.
"Right then." Lewis stated with confidence. "You want a spell?"
"Yeh." The man looked at Lewis with one eye, and a stupid grin.
Lewis scoffed, and gave his sister one more look. She was lounging with an ale in one hand, and a silver coin in the other. It seemed as though she and the barkeep had a bet going. 'Here goes nothing' he thought.
He moved his hands and fingers in an intricate motion, his staff free-standing to his side. As little bits of Arcane energy trailed from his finger tips, he knew the man and his friends were entranced. "What's fat, smells of year-old ham, and gave birth to an oversized maggot? Your mom!"
The man and his friends erupted into laughter. Laughter from the belly. The blonde man fell to floor, as did one of his companions. Their faces turned red, and tears streamed from their eyes.
As they laughed, Lewis turned triumphantly to his sister and the barkeep. Their jaws looked as if they'd simply fall off their faces. The barkeep slid another two mugs on the counter, clearly having lost the bet.
"Hideous laughter." Lewis said with a smile. "The joke doesn't have to be good, as long as the mind is weak." He looked down at his handy work. All four men were rolling on the floor, crying, and laughing hysterically. Other patrons in the bar giggled, but otherwise paid no heed. A few of them even got up and left, which Cassandra silently noted.
She began to question the length of the spell, as she was familiar with some basic mechanics of magic, though not the spell craft aspect. And just as that thought hit her, the blonde mans laughter ceased.
The other three were still caught in the spell, so maybe Lewis couldn't hear him. Or perhaps the mage was caught up in his of joy. Either way, that moment was all the blonde man needed. He tucked his feet under himself, and kicked upward, right fist guiding the way. Lewis' own laughter was cut short as the hairy fist collided with his chin. The mage, a man of minimal strength, was lifted off his feet, and came crashing down onto the bar.
"What kind of fuckin' game you playin' at mage? I 'oughta shove that stick up yer arse ye filthy-"
A fine edged, steel longsword touched his gross Adams apple, pushing it further up into his throat. Cassandra, still sitting in her stool, held the sword tight against the mans throat with her left hand, and gulped the rest of her ale from the mug in her right. "You've had your fun, so has he. You both learned your lessons. Now would you please sit down."
The other three men had recovered from the spell, and had pulled their own blades out as a reaction. One of them looked to the blonde man, "Aleksi?"
The blonde man, Aleksi, backed away from the deadly blade, with his hands raised. "Nah, she's right, Fredrik. Let pay our tab, and get home to our families." Without removing his eyes from Cassandra's, Aleksi slowly backed out of the tavern. Cassandra knew that look. He was simply respecting the establishment. His friends threw some copper coins onto the table, and left, grumbling while they sheathed their swords.
"Fuck! Sorry!" Lewis was straightening himself out, holding his face. "I guess I could have just told him no." He grabbed his mug, and sat down.
"Eh." Cassandra shrugged again. "It was a great show. And we got a few drinks, so numb that pain bud." And she slid him another mug.
Lewis groaned and set his head on the table.
"North." The barkeep caught Cassandras attention with the word. "Head north out of town, towards Shroudpass. You'll see her hut. Sits a top a gloomy hill."
"Thank you kindly, good sir." Cassandra tipped her mug.
"Eli." He corrected her. "No good sir about it."
Soon, Cassandra was walking a half-sleeping Lewis to the Inn, where she paid for their lodgings, and settled him into a bed. "I see why you don't drink." She said to her unconscious brother. She laughed to herself, and fell into her own bed.