The Metalhearts

Adventurer's Guild

"Thank you for coming, friends," Rhaman said, his voice carrying over the crashing waves of the shore. Most of the Metalhearts guild members surrounding him in a semi-circle, facing out into the ocean. Integrity, armor polished and neat, stood with her head high, expression sober near the front of the crowd. Heshan and Maizey flanked her, the former with an impassive look and Maizey fidgeting with the edges of her sleeves. Jasttor stood somewhere on the other edge of the crowd, his expression difficult to read. The only outward sign of his stress was how tightly he held Tally's hand. No sign of Ashwing's body was anywhere to be found. "We are here to mourn the loss of a guild member. Whether you knew him well," (Jasttor shifted in place) "or if he was only a name you heard of, he was a part of the Metalhearts. We never knew where Andrel Ashwing was born, who his parents were, who his family was." Rhaman spoke aloud to the crowd, but glanced down often at notes he held in his hands. Jasttor's eyes followed Integrity's movements as she crossed her arms. "He came to us alone, wanting to make a mark on the world in his own way. None of us knew him as a child, or as he grew up; he never took a partner, had children. Instead, we knew him as a fun-loving man full of life, cleverness, and wit. We knew him as the man who would try his best to make you laugh when you were down. His life was dedicated to his mission, to doing what he believed to be right. In the end, it's what killed him. His memory lives in all of us and how we carry ourselves, the mirth we share with one another, and the dedication as Andrel showed to what you believe in." There was a pause in which the only sound was the water on the shoreline. Rhaman's dark eyes found Heshan in the crowd and gave him a nod. "To honor Andrel's passing, our respected cleric, Integrity Emberheart, and trainer Heshan, who knew Andrel in life, will lead us in song." He stepped back into the crowd to stand near Maizey as the two he addressed came forward. Jasttor gave a quiet sound and whispered "Dragonsong!" just as Integrity began to sing in Draconic language. Her voice was low and earthy, not used to these kinds of sounds, but not unpleasant. Draconic came to her naturally, perhaps rusty but with a perfect accent. Heshan joined in, a rumbling bass, and as they sang several voices joined in from the crowd. After the first verse, Jasttor sang, as well, somewhere between tenor and baritone, sounding as though he knew every word by heart. The ones who didn't know the lyrics picked up on the tune and hummed along, and the entire crowd swelled with sound that overpowered the crashing waves, a sound of sorrow and farewell and power that thrummed through them. The song was about a man who loved people so much that he gave every piece of himself away, bit by bit--his money, his home, his food, his clothing, even parts of his own body, until he died alone with nothing. The gods took pity on him and blessed what was left of the man's body, letting him become forever imprinted in the sky as stars. His hand, a bright star that could always be seen in every part of Terrix, guided the lost. The story was an old one, passed down through many generations of several races, though the iterations were slightly different every time. This one was common among dragonborn, though that fact wasn't known except to those who knew the culture. The final note ended with most of the crowd in tears. Jasttor held his head high, though a closer inspection showed that he fought his own tears back; Integrity's eyes were misted over. Heshan almost looked his real age, for a moment, before he looked on to the crowd. "Every member's life in this guild is precious to us," Integrity began this time. "Whether they stay with us or leave, whether they run or retire. Each member matters. It's my hope to see all of you safe and successful, but I know that the very nature of what we do, what we sacrifice, makes that impossible. We have to keep going even in our grief. We press on. Life goes on." She paused a moment to take a deep breath. "So I'm asking you all to keep going. Do what you think is right and let your guild support you. When you go to rest tonight, spare a moment for Ashwing. He was one of us." Her eyes met Jasttor's for a moment, and a flash of real sorrow and empathy was present in her expression before it was gone again. "Farewell, my friends and allies." She dipped her head. "And good night, Andrel Ashwing." Integrity reached into a pocket, pulling out the coin she'd been given upon membership into the guild. Holding it between her thumb and forefinger, she held it high and began the guild creed: "Our hearts are many, but they beat as one. We are more than just any, and we'll fight 'til we're done. Where there is fear we'll shine, when death looms we won't turn; With our hopes combined, through the impossible, we burn." The crowd began to disperse slowly, many staying behind to chat in hushed and somber tones. Jasttor's eyes glazed over in thought as he stared down at the coin in his hand, but he jumped when Teg clapped him on the shoulder as she passed by. She gave him a sympathetic look before catching Tally's eye and nodding, leaving the two alone in the crowd. Heshan spoke quietly to Rhaman before slipping through the crowd and away somewhere, looking as though he had some kind of business to attend to.

Public Agenda

A guild offering mercenary services to the surrounding merchants. Attracts many adventuring parties.

Maps

Metalhearts Guild Hall, 1F
Bilime stifles a yawn as she butts her way into the guildhall, gently shoving past a few legs milling around the entrance. As she steps inside, she inhales deeply and a broad smile spreads across her face. "Oh it has been too long..." She scans the room, looking for familiar faces and then edges her way sideways to see if- Yep, the rule of thumb still holds. If it's after 11am and the world isn't on fire, Teg is in her beercave. With more than a spring in her step she saunters up to the bar and heaves herself up above the counter-top and eye level with a taut scaly belly she's not seen in over eight years. "Dan!!! Oh, you wonderful grump," she says, rubbing his belly vigorously. "I have missed you! Nine hells, and I didn't think you could get any bigger. Still hooked on those chestnut bitters or have you developed new tastes?" She looks up at the bemused woman behind the counter. "Could I please get two of those spring spiced terragon ales you guys used to have? Chilled please! And this guy-" She points at the rotund dragon, "will cover for it. He still owes me sixty-seven gold." She winks at the dragon and pushes two gold across the bar before adding a third to the pile. "Get yourself something good Dan-man." She grabs the two cold bottles and hops off the counter. "Thanks!" She says, smiling with some trepidation. "Gotta go treat with her highness. If memory serves, she wasn't exactly displeased to see me go last time. Wish me luck!" She toasts the woman and dragon with the bottles before turning and making her way towards Integrity's booth. She smiles fondly to see her old friend, hunched as usual over a ream of papers and occasionally sipping from a mug to her left.
Zhayeria
Zhayeria, the large port city that is home to the Metalhearts guild and a number of diverse people wishing to start their own small businesses.
Metalhearts Guild Hall, 2F
The second floor of the guild hall, mostly dedicated to Integrity's tiny triage.