C1E1 — Troglodytes and Taxes

In which the party arrives in Guavira, assembles and encounters their new coworkers, completes some necessary paperwork, and is nearly killed in their first day on the job.

Jamra's Account
I count myself a well traveled man. How could I not, when I have seen all the wonders of the City of Brass, the greatest metropolis in all the cosmos? Nevertheless, I have never felt something quite

as comfortable as the sand on the beaches of Guavira, free to rest after my long bondage. Nor have I felt something quite as irritating as the stick poking me in the eye as I was called to wake.

When I stirred, comporting myself with utmost dignity I assure you, I found myself surrounded by a curious group. My eyes were first drawn to the huge dragonborn woman whose skin bore an odd discoloration, but I soon observed a small tiefling girl by her side. With compassion that belied any improper inference drawn from her fearsome mien, the dragonborn woman merely laid a hand on my shoulder and my vigor was restored. We spoke on the beach for some time before concluding that the siroccos of fate had hurled us together and we had best take advantage of that. We headed back to the city and discovered a lovely little nest of bureaucrats, pushing papers hither and thither. There was a small tax applied on entry and I received asylum due to my status. Such a limited station cannot last for long however. I need to move quickly, demonstrate what use I can be and secure myself. I know from cruel experience that the embers that already lie in place seek to burn up any new fuel for themselves first. I need security and station. Only then can I work safely.

After the purchase of some rather useful maps of the area and our acquisition of a rather surly woman from a blacksmith shop, we headed off on a mission for the government. Apparently a group of troglodytes had broken into a granary (Through some sort of tunnel? Must investigate those further!) and the city's food stores were in peril. I charged into danger whirling my brother's scimitar. I confess I felt quite the hero in that moment, my old name and old fears left behind. I was the flame at dusk, the sunrise flashing in their eyes! But all to soon I was reminded what I am. The troglodytes dealt with me handily and left me, bleeding out on the floor. I could only watch as one by one, my new friends fared the same. They were struck down and I could do nothing. When my eyes closed I thought it would be for the last time. Yet I was saved, for what reason I do not know, and awoke to the dragonborn woman, Syrenixia, looming above me. When we walked out of that building I left my dream of flame behind. Jamra emerged and trudged off, a handful of gold for his trouble.

Even cinders can build though. That I must believe. We have our starting point in this city and a way forward. For the moment, as registered adventurers of "Squad 13" we are capped at earning 10 gold a week, a paltry sum. But before long we shall have a reputation and then that shall grow into respect and from there to recognition. It must.