As he waits, a towering figure with a pot belly strides over, grinning. "Hey, hello, buddy. You must be the one she mentioned who's traveling with us." A big wide hand extends, as broad and thick as an old oak branch.
Drake clasps it firmly. "Yeah, that's me. I'm Alexandra Drake. Nice to meet you." The face brightens right up as he replies, "My name's Sam. Nice to meet you too." He leans back behind him, nodding toward his companions-two young women and two men, each with an air of determination and purpose.
He motions to each in turn as he introduces them: "She's Lilly, our healer; Binter, our guide and Arcane Amplifier; Ben, the archer; and Larry, our tank. I'm their guide, a Warlock, and leader of this here merry band.
Worry not so much, we'll see that you are guarded till we reach our destination." With a wave, Sam leads the group out of the guide office and onto the road.
Outside, an awaiting midsized mercenary carriage greets them, with worn wood and iron banding that speaks of countless adventures. They climb aboard one by one.
Opposite Drake sits Lilly, her eyes dancing over him with curious warmth, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks as her gaze lingers. "Hi, Drake," she begins, her voice soft, hesitant. "May I ask why you're going to the fog forest? It's a place of so many mysteries."
Drake's eyes meet hers, unhurried and even. "Actually, I do not have a reason, but I have a message for someone on a mission there." A playful smile tugs at her lips, but before she could respond, a hearty laugh escapes Ben's lips as his voice fills the carriage.
"Hahaha, who would've thought, the lady with the toughest shell, all gentle now." The rest of the crew bursts into chuckles, leaving Drake slightly puzzled by the humor.
As they get settled, Sam pulls out a mini-map with a crimson line tracing a path through dense forbidding woods. "The administrator gave this to me," he says, handing it over to Drake. "She said it would direct you right to where you need to go." Drake accepts it with a nod. "Thank you, and please thank her when you return."
When the sun was low, they came to a small town that cowered beside the road, a sleepy halt on the long journey. "Why don't we find an inn for the night and have rest before we dive into this task?" Sam said, and they all murmured in agreement.
He taps the driver's shoulder and asks, "Take us to the nearest inn, please." The driver nods, turning his carriage towards a building with light spilling from the windows and the hum of laughter welcoming them.
Inside, the inn was alive with voices raised amidst laughter, patrons gathered around tables. A man with a white scarf wrapped over his head approaches, shouting above the din. "Welcome! What can we get for you?"
Sam leans in, speaking directly into his ear. "A table for six, if you have one." He nods and leads them upstairs to a cozy corner on the quiet side, meant for VIPs, it would seem, and they take their seats around a table.
The server returns, ready for their order. "What can I get you?" he asks. "Your best wine and six plates of roasted pork, please. Also, reserve three rooms for the night," Sam replies. With a nod, the man hurries off, leaving them to the warm flicker of candlelight, and the muffled voices echoing around them.
Just as their meal arrives, a loud thud draws their attention, a man at the next table is pounding the wood, his face twisted in frustration. His companion leans in, concerned. "What's wrong, comrade? Tell me," he urges.
"It's nothing much, just the Go Village incident. Haven't you heard?" The face of his companion darkens. "Ah, you mean where all those mercenaries turned into the Crimson Rot, an undead, right?" His voice drops with unease.
"And that's not all. Just two days ago, it was said the whole horde was consumed in flame, reduced to ash." He pauses, casting a wary glance around. "But on this continent, the Thralia, only water and aura mages exist-unless they're from Vas'tarim."
They exchange tense glances until another man strides over, propping his leg on their table with a grin. "I was there. One of the lucky ones who got out."
Around the table, eyes widen as they lean in, entranced. "Then you must have seen the mage who saved everyone," whispered one of the men.
The newcomer chuckled, and his eyes clouded as though remembering some sort of dreamy haze. "Not clearly, through the smoke, but there was a silhouette-a young woman in her early twenties, unmistakably feminine in her outline. We all saw it. She was no common mage."
After dinner, they all retire to their rooms. Drake shares a room with Sam; they lie side by side on the large bed. In the soft light of the candle, Sam lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling as his mind wanders. "Drake," he says softly, the silence now broken. "After you deliver your message, do you have any plans?
Drake's head turned toward Sam, his expression contemplative. "Yes, I do attend the Diamond Mage Academy, but why did you ask?
Sam sighs, his voice a little wistful in the dark. "I married when I was twenty, and I'm thirty-three now. I had a daughter. She was twelve years old. Seeing you reminds me of her; it's been such a very long time." He falls silent, the memories flooding his mind, then he shifts on his side, drawing the blanket up. "Let's rest. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day. Goodnight, Drake."
"Goodnight," he says to Drake, and the room is quietened as they drift into sleep.
The sun rises to its peak the next day as they finally approach the fog forest, the dark shade of trees stretching on the ground. "At last, the fog forest," Larry says, with a hint of excitement in his voice.
"Let's get this task done and celebrate with some good wine later." They get off the carriage and head closer to the mysterious misty depths of the forest.