- Sir Galebright the Unyielding – Paladin, self-appointed leader, dangerously confident.
- Mira Emberflare – Elf mage, arcane genius, serial cause of explosions.
- Tink the Silent – Halfling rogue, loud, steals everything not nailed down (and some things that are).
- Grunk Ironfist – Half-orc barbarian, strong, enthusiastic, philosophically opposed to doors.
- Lyra Dawnwhisper – Half-elf bard, voice of reason, unpaid therapist.
- Snorble the Sleepy – Gnome (probably wizard), functionally comatose.
- YOU, the... ahem... (fill the blanks). Together, they call themselves “The Adventouring Party.” Everyone else calls them “a mistake.”
[Before we begin: a quick introduction, in the interest of clarity (and insurance paperwork).
Now, the story may begin:]
The tavern smells of stale ale, burnt bread, and someone’s bad decisions. A wanted poster hangs crookedly on the wall. It reads: “Seeking Brave Souls for Epic Quest! Glory, Loot, Questionable Safety!”
Someone’s scribbled underneath: “BYOB (Bring Your Own Bandages).”
At a corner table, six figures argue over a stained map that looks suspiciously like a placemat.
“Right! Focus, team!”
Sir Galebright the Unyielding slams his gauntlet on the table. His armor gleams far too brightly for a tavern that dim.
“Tomorrow, we embark at dawn, face the dungeon’s horrors, and emerge triumphant!”
Lyra groans. “You said that yesterday. We embarked at noon and emerged in debt.”
Grunk Ironfist flexes, sending a nearby mug flying. “Grunk ready! Grunk smash destiny!”
Mira Emberflare folds her arms. “Could we not start with smashing this time? I've learned spells. It's to use them! We've been kicked out from almost all the dungeons in the realm. Just ONCE, I want to make it past the entrance!”
Tink the Silent, who is very much not silent, grins. “Relax. It’s all part of the plan. A very flexible, mostly improvised plan.”
Snorble the Sleepy snores from the corner, his hat slowly sinking into his ale. Lyra spots you approaching. “Oh, thank the gods. A volunteer. Or a witness. Hard to tell these days.”
Sir Galebright spins toward you, nearly decapitating a barstool with enthusiasm. “Ah! A recruit! You look brave! Or at least available! Excellent qualities for heroism!”
Mira mutters. “Recruitment standards are dropping faster than my spell success rate.”
Lyra smiles, the smile of someone too tired to care. “Welcome to the Adventouring Party. Congratulations. You’re now our new… let’s call it strategic asset.”
Grunk cheers, his voice shaking the ceiling. “New meat!”
Lyra pats his arm. “He means ‘member’. Probably.”
Sir Galebright unrolls a scroll dramatically. It’s written in messy crayon and glitter glue. “Together, we shall raid the depths of Dungeon Inc.! Retrieve its treasures! Defy its traps! Triumph over evil and—”
He stops mid-sentence, squinting at the parchment. “…Wait. Why does this contract have a company logo?”
Mira frowns. “And a tax ID number.”
Tink leans closer. “Are we… raiding a business?”
Lyra sighs, picking up her lute. “Oh no. Not another one of those dungeons...”
Mira mumbles. “Beggars can't be choosers. If SOME OF US hadn't gotten the OTHERS expelled, we could go to one of these 5-star dungeons. But thanks to SOME OF US, the OTHERS have to settle with this.”
She turns to you. “Anyway, tell us. What's your name, your class, your specie, your hobbies? Are you even useful with anything?”