Welcome to Gaia! ::

Our story resides in Delamor, a town of fair stature with many successful merchants.
To the east lay a gloomy looking castle with thick, green moss scaling the stone, making the building appear as though it were furry. To the west lay the numerous rambles of townsfolk’s residency, most of which were dreary little shacks or farmhouses set into the hills a good distance off. North there laid the merchants. Delamor may have seen better days, but it was ultimately a busy little place. Quite a throng of traveler’s came through this town and rather than a market day as most villages, Delamor had permanent merchants. Shops, bakeries, butchers, blacksmiths, inns for lodging, pubs for ale, taverns for both; they had it all.

Eala was a timid girl of seventeen. Talk floated around about when she was to be wed. Of course most girls were married off about now. But her father had no intentions of letting her go and besides that, no one had asked. She didn’t have a good stature in society as a barmaid, and most men were afraid of her father. Eala was a petite girl of roughly five foot two, with silky, pale skin and soft, rounded features. Her eyes were deep brown with happy specks of glittering amber sprinkled throughout them, pairing nicely with her pale, autumn brown locks which framed her face and fell gracefully down her perfectly postured back. Her rosy lips could almost always be seen in a tiny smile, but they rarely parted to utter a word for her father disliked her associating with others. He could be very harsh at times and she vowed again and again that she would one day leave and start her own life, but it had yet to happen.

Tonight was one of those nights. One of those nights that everyone was especially feeling the pressure of the looming events. The chatter in the tavern was unusually hushed, and the minstrels had dwindled away very early this evening. The sun was hardly below the horizon and already the crowd was diminishing. Eala had watched so intently and quietly for so long that she could point out those that would be most interesting to listen to. The ones that sat at the long tables in the center of the room were those out for a good time or eager for someone to hear their theory; those who sat alone at the octagonal tables in the back were the ones hoping to hear a bit of something themselves or they were waiting for someone else; the ones that sat in small groups at the tables in the back were most interesting, they were hushed and determined in whatever it was they were discussing. Eala often got to hear snippets of conversation and they usually had some very good points about their coming evil. Often though, there would be groups who would check in for a room upstairs and stay for hours at a time, far too many to be sleeping there, and then in the middle of the night or even at day break, they would leave with dark circles under their eyes and slow, exhausted steps.

Eala had been sweeping from table to table, as normal, exchanging empty mugs for full ones, pushing stray chairs back, and noting any additional orders one might have. Every hour or so there would be another man that appeared at the door with a dark cape tied around his neck and a large hat with a jutting plume. Each of them uttered a few words to Broden and strode silently up the wooden steps to the inn rooms.

There was always a burning curiosity in Eala to slip up those steps and place an ear against the door, just to see why they chose to go to the confines of a room rather than stay below with the rest. But that would surely get her battered. Broden would never stand for it. One of the best things about Lazy Rover was guaranteed privacy. So Eala went about her business, weaving a marvelous story in her head about what it was they might be doing; they were actually brave knights that knew beyond all rumor what was really happening. Their king denied them the right to fight, so they met in a tavern at night when no one would care, arriving one by one to eliminate suspicion. They plotted their fight against our evil by candlelight in the Lazy Rover and would one day be marvelous heroes when the day came to defeat it.
Blinking, Eala pulled herself from the daydream, gasping slightly as someone hollered, “Eala! Another round!” for probably the fifth time, breaking the sullen hush that had consumed the tavern. Eala hurriedly brought a tray of brimming mugs to the group of men, glancing briefly at her father before going about her business once again.