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Cadmus set his rucksack down on the table and sorted through his belongings until his hand settled on his familiar leatherbound tome. Gently easing the book from his sack he placed it on the table and repeated the magical incantation that would remove the warding and unlock the seal he had placed there the night before. Leaning back precariously in his chair he stretched his arms and rubbed his graying temples, and so began the arduaos process of commiting the arcane writings that comprised a typical spell to memory.
The tavern was bustling with activity this night. Serving maidens made their rounds from table to table catering to the fat pockets of adventurers and mercenaries recently returned from the wilderness. Sundren, although heavily populated in the scattered city-states, was teeming with untamed wilds inhabited by numerous goblinoids and other dangers that called the forests their home. A dwarf could make a good living simply collecting the bounties placed upon the goblins if he wished.
The tavern was filled with a variety of different poeple, farmers adventurers, nobles-it seemed Sundren had become a melting pot of varied cultures and people-regardless of their status, they rubbed shoulders and shared drinks over wonderous tales and sometimes exagerated exploits.
Cadmus, finally finished with his studies, closed his leather tome and placed it securely back in his pack. Checking the peace-knot on his axe he stood up and made his way outside the establishment. He lost himself in his thoughts as he walked the crowded streets of the entertainment district. He knew a Temple of Helm was located in the Market, perhaps he should go by and offer a prayer and stock up on some much needed supplies before he headed out.
Cadmus chuckled to himself "A fine sight ye do be old man" Dressed in a simple chain shirt, leather riding boots, and a cloak emblazoned with the sybol of Helm he looked more a mercenary or cleric than a Magi, furthermore wizards amongst his people were a rare sight indeed. Most Dwarves chose to walk the path of a warrior, or battle priest, but Cadmus had chosen a different road of expertise . His was the path of the arcane, a delver of ancient secrets and long forgotten powers. Cadmus took to his studies quickly and over the course of several years had mastered the rudimentary aspects of spellcraft. Patting the Dwarven War Axe swinging at his hip he smiled to himself. Although he had turned from his martial training long ago, Cadmus had never forgotten the lessons of battle that all Dwarven males endured. His axe had served him many times where his magic would not, and he was glad to feel the solid security the weapon provided at his side.
Making his way to the northen gates of Sundren he set out towards the hills. He had heard rumors of goblins setting up camp around the border, waylaying unsuspecting travelers as they made their way to the city to trade. Taking a final glance back at the city he now called his home he realised he would not face this scourge alone. Smiling, he began the long walk towards the hills, the call of battle driving his footsteps forward.
The tavern was bustling with activity this night. Serving maidens made their rounds from table to table catering to the fat pockets of adventurers and mercenaries recently returned from the wilderness. Sundren, although heavily populated in the scattered city-states, was teeming with untamed wilds inhabited by numerous goblinoids and other dangers that called the forests their home. A dwarf could make a good living simply collecting the bounties placed upon the goblins if he wished.
The tavern was filled with a variety of different poeple, farmers adventurers, nobles-it seemed Sundren had become a melting pot of varied cultures and people-regardless of their status, they rubbed shoulders and shared drinks over wonderous tales and sometimes exagerated exploits.
Cadmus, finally finished with his studies, closed his leather tome and placed it securely back in his pack. Checking the peace-knot on his axe he stood up and made his way outside the establishment. He lost himself in his thoughts as he walked the crowded streets of the entertainment district. He knew a Temple of Helm was located in the Market, perhaps he should go by and offer a prayer and stock up on some much needed supplies before he headed out.
Cadmus chuckled to himself "A fine sight ye do be old man" Dressed in a simple chain shirt, leather riding boots, and a cloak emblazoned with the sybol of Helm he looked more a mercenary or cleric than a Magi, furthermore wizards amongst his people were a rare sight indeed. Most Dwarves chose to walk the path of a warrior, or battle priest, but Cadmus had chosen a different road of expertise . His was the path of the arcane, a delver of ancient secrets and long forgotten powers. Cadmus took to his studies quickly and over the course of several years had mastered the rudimentary aspects of spellcraft. Patting the Dwarven War Axe swinging at his hip he smiled to himself. Although he had turned from his martial training long ago, Cadmus had never forgotten the lessons of battle that all Dwarven males endured. His axe had served him many times where his magic would not, and he was glad to feel the solid security the weapon provided at his side.
Making his way to the northen gates of Sundren he set out towards the hills. He had heard rumors of goblins setting up camp around the border, waylaying unsuspecting travelers as they made their way to the city to trade. Taking a final glance back at the city he now called his home he realised he would not face this scourge alone. Smiling, he began the long walk towards the hills, the call of battle driving his footsteps forward.