Quest - A Lost Antique

The little wooden cabin she was in was something else. As she peered around the walls curiously, one piece of paper caught her eye: 'Lost Antique'. It had taken her a bit to haggle out the details of the quest, especially since it dealt with pirates. In the real world, Vertigo was rather obsessed with pirate lore and privateering. So, perhaps she could take it on?

Vertigo

Hey, I'm looking for a group to take with me to Druuk Island. Maybe someone has a boat or something? I'll give you more details when you get here. I'll send you the coordinates to where I'm currently at. Anyone else interested?

Vertigo shifted uncomfortably, ears twitching idly and golden eyes peering interestedly around the small wooden cabin. Who knows how long it would take to get the quest done? She wanted something to do and honestly? Vertigo wasn't sure how to go along with this kind of thing. Running her fingers through her fluffy brown hair, she pursed her lips and waited.

 

Druuk Island, the ping told her.

Didn't take long for Madison to discover more about the island. A few questions here and there, a couple books thumbed through, a handful of coins pressed into sweaty, grimy palms.

It was this small island to the south, kind of like a miniature prison colony in ages past--in the game, anyway. An absolute cesspool where blood and gold ruled in equal amounts, and the descendants of the prisoners ran the show. Travelers were told to stay the hell away from it as much as possible. "Better to stick to the mainland," one guy with a scar running up from mouth to eye warned her. "At least here there's a difference between man and beast."

Sounded like her kind of place, really.

Idyllic adventure was fun and all, but Madison was itching to get out of Brisshal. With how many hours she found herself pouring into Terrasphere, it was time to spread her wings a bit. Turn up the danger a notch or two. Have reason to tap into her ever-growing spell list. Get to kick some dudes in the nards and have a good laugh as their eyes bug out of their skulls.

So, to Druuk Island it was.

The summons brought her to this dinky little shack in the middle of nowhere. After a quick rap on the door, she let herself in and was immediately greeted with a rush of musty, stale air. The witch let out a raspy cough as she tried to adjust, and closed the door behind her.

A dog-person--what were they called again? Caenis?--sat by lonesome, illuminated by the faded sunlight that pushed through the curtains.

Madison broke the ice first, an action that she disturbingly found she was doing with increasingly regularity. "'Sup."

 

Given how far from the meeting point had the last quest left her, it was no easy feat to move from one point of the map to another, especially with a little detail to add in on the fun. It didn't take long for her to notice the low temperature, arms wrapped tightly around her small frame as if to keep the damned cold at bay, realistic weather design condemned and all of those who had worked to make it a possibility.

When she reached the cabin specified in the message, it didn't take more than few seconds for her to yank the door open and show herself in, breathing in relief as she closed the door behind her, regarding the females inside with a curious glance.

Portia hadn't failed in noticing the familiar figure standing next to the person who had summoned them for yet another quest, and her lips parted with words ready at the tip of her tongue, words which were quickly replaced by a furrow of her brows and another step away from the door. The time to indulge into pleasantries was certainly not this. Not when the details of their mission were about to be revealed, not when her palms ran up and down her arms in search of warmth.

Instead, she offered a nod of acknowledgment to Madison before her attention was pulled to the Caenis stranger.

''Greetings,'' muttered the girl with a bow of her head to the pair as she helped herself over to an unoccupied chair by the table inside the cabin. Convenient, indeed, yet a blessing she'd be one to welcome with open arms. Portia propped her chin on a fist, a neutral expression set on her features as she looked for the faintest hints to show what sort of job would this one be about. Alas, she found none.