Asherons Call: March Rollout Article is Up!

A dusty, travel-stained man with the brawny build of a smith stopped, sighing, in front of the Smoking Axe tavern of Ayan Baqur. He wiped a thick layer of sweat from the flushed blue skin of his brow. He turned and noticed an old man, standing quietly in the shade of the tavern and nursing a cool mug of beer.

"Pardon me, sir," the smith said, stepping over to introduce himself. The old man turned, looked around, then turned back to the smith with a vaguely confused look.

"Sir? Who? What? You mean me?"

"Uh, well, yes. It is a common form of address here, is it not?"

"Polite, yes. Common, no." The old man took a sip from his mug, wiped some foam from his lips, and gave a short, if wobbly, bow. "I'm Ulgrim. I'm the man to know around these parts."

The smith bowed back. "A pleasure to meet you, sir. Ulgrim. Sir. I do seek knowledgeable locals. My name is Iian di Alduressa, and I am newly arrived to this realm."

"Well, welcome to Ayan Baqur then, Iian. Viamontian, are you? We don't get many Viamontians in these parts."

Iian nodded slowly. "I understand that there is a war going on between my King and the Queen of the people of the mainland... Is it unsafe for me here?"

"Unsafe? No... Well, no more unsafe for you than it is for anyone else around here. No, we just don't get many Viamontians in Ayan Baqur because the desert sun turns your skin a most unfashionable shade of purple. Makes you look like Tumeroks, especially if you're not in the habit of shaving."

"I see... That is useful information..." Iian shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "I was wondering if you could tell me how to find some people..."

"Well, I can tell you about some people you shouldn't be looking for! There are these people, you see, who have sworn their souls to a dark power, and get their jollies from killing other people for fun and profit. You can tell by the faint reddish aura around them, and all the jewelry and expensive things they like to carry around with them. Like they're looking to leave behind a fancy-looking corpse. Those folks have been going Mite-squeak crazy lately. It's like mating season for murderers!" Ulgrim waved his mug around for emphasis, sloshing dark, foamy stout on Iian's dusty boots.

"Ah, yes, I see. That, too, is a valuable insight. But you see, on Ispar I was a royal armorsmith, and I am looking for some armorsmiths of some renown in this realm, who have mastered the art of fusing crystals to metal..."

Ulgrim interrupted again, to point at a woman lounging near the tavern entrance, on the other side of the door. "Speaking of people... You see her? Lydda? She tells people she's a plumber, but I know she's not. The reason I know is that some of Berkholt's taps have broken, and she hasn't done a thing to help fix them. She's up to something shady, I can tell. But does anyone believe old Ulgrim, no matter how many times I've been proven right? No ho ho! And then the Virindi take over and their brains get turned to applesauce! Applesauce, I tell you!" More stout sloshed from the wildly swung mug, this time splattering on Ulgrim's robe. The old man had a wild look in his eyes, and this time the foam around his mouth was not from his beer.

The woman Ulgrim had identified as Lydda turned, looked at them, and rolled her eyes. She was obviously used to these accusatory outbursts from Ulgrim.

Iian retreated, bowing repeatedly as he stepped backwards. "Thank you for your time, sir. I shall take your wise words to heart." Once he'd gotten a few steps away, he turned and walked quickly, headed for the nearest portal. "I may as well just head back home," he muttered. "These mainland Isparians have gone crazy." He had intended to step into the tavern for a cool drink, but was beginning to think that the beer here was tainted with some kind of mind-warping solution. He didn't want to end up like the infamous Duke Raoul of Viamont.

Ulgrim watched the smith scurrying away and shook a fist at him. "Hey! You could at least buy an old man a mug of stout for all the help I gave you!" He shook his head. "What a rude and snooty young man. Just like his King. I wouldn't have wanted to introduce him to the Shadow Armor smiths anyway."