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Eyes momentarily closed, Cerebraxus sat at his table in silence. Listening to the ebb and flow of the crowd, their topics. In truth he was gathering his strength in preparation. New voices, and his eyes opened to see Gondowon speaking with two others. Ah, the connections of the people of Phanterra. From one of the Hops sisters he requested more hot cider, before returning to his meditation.

Mahto Snowbringer opens the door of the tavern. His feet hit heavily upon each step. His eye dark and weary his sits down quietly near Gondowon.

"I'm here to help, in any way I can."

He says, his voice low and horse like a desert island in the vast salt sea.

An older seeming Orc walks up the steps towards the taverns main doors. The first thing one would notice about this Orc is the mottled gray green of his skin, then his tusks, which sit pronounced, one broken but both deeply lined and yellowed. A slight limp causes a slowness of pace and an oddness to his gait. And finally for those so inclined to listen, a sound which accompanies his every movement, the soft clack and rattle of the bones, gourds, and precious stones that dangle from the skull headed staff clenched in one gnarled hand which aids his movement.

This orc was relatively new to the town but his companions and he had decided they required some assistance and thus stuck around for the great battles. Now though, Now it seemed something more diabolical reared it's head, a force which he detested with every fiber of his very being. A force so opposed to what he believed that he had to be sure it was wiped from existence.

Ordrak entered the tavern and turned, peering at the parchment he had read on a previous visit, A note to any and all able-bodied and willing souls to lend aid to Gondowon in a bid to destroy this newfound evil. The orc grinned almost evilly before turning to look around the tavern, his yellowed gaze sweeping the large open room to locate who he sought. Finally he spotted the Human man that he had fought beside before and began to make his way over to him, his skull headed staff thumping upon the tread worn floor as he went. Several feet before he reached the table he began to speak loud enough to be heard over the taverns dull roar, his voice a deep grumble.

"Gondowon! I have helped you retrieve this boat of yours already. So you know of my ability to aid. And now! Knowing what these creatures truly are. I can not and shall not sit by the wayside while others go out to take on this affront to the cycle of life and death!"

He snarled this last bit, his lip pulled back in disgust at the mere idea of a lich and the undead horde he intended to raise.

"So! How do we proceed?"

He asked this final question before taking a seat upon the bench across from Gondowon, and only now realized that he was not the first to approach him, He spotted the lady Morgause and some other men seated there, he ignored the men as he did not know of them nor of their deeds but he nodded his respect to the lady as they had fought side by side casting their magics during that final battle, a grunt accompanied the nod but little else as there were more important things than pleasantries to be upheld here.

Mahto stifles a laugh and turns to Gondowon, "Your boat? That's funny."

He turns to the Orc, "We haven't met yet, sir, I am Mahto Snowbringer - among other less important tittles I am the First Mate of the Redwind. Captain Zandron will arive shortly I don't doubt.]

The young Ga'vin chieftain holds his hand out to the orc in introduction. "Thank you for being here for our Crewman."

Khorvalis notices the orc approach Gondowan and he whispers something into Morgause's ear. The Winter Witch nods as the Ga'vin says his words, but she is still too weak to do much more.

The old druid then helps Morgause to where Mahto, Gondowan and the orc are.

"Thank you for answering Gondowon's request for help. I see you have one of the parchments that have been posted about town." Khorvalis addresses Ordrak as he gently sits Morgause next to his younger Ga'vin companion.

"I see you have met Mahto already." Khorvalis smiles at the younger Ga'vin.

"And orc, you obviously know our ship's Master Craftsman, Gondowon... And I am Khorvalis. We three have all served on the ship you helped get back."

The old druid pulls out some dried meats and berries from his leather satchel and offers some to the orc as well as the other members of the Redwind.

He then squints at the orc: "You must forgive me, for I have forgotten your name. We have met before, I do believe. Several moons ago..."

The Hierophant scratches his chin as he tries to remember.

"Yes, yes, yes... you are one of the orphans who traveled here with Myopic. One of the orphans of war!"

"Ordrak... that is the name of this orc hero."

Morgause summons what strength she can to join in the repartee.

"How are you, friend? I see the spells and tricks we have practiced together have kept you alive." She tries to smile from behind her mask.

"And now, Ordrak, you seek yet another adventure? So relentless, so eager... and growing more and more powerful... I am glad you will be joining us on this mission. Your magical prowess will be a great asset as we face our next foe."

Morgause raps her slender hand on the empty chair next to her, beckoning Ordrak to sit next to her as the conversations continue.

"Ah yes! Ordrak! Now I remember."

Khorvalis looks to his crewmates.

"A pair of capable mages to join in our quest will give us many options as we get ready for seek out Fringe, but I hope more heroes of Brennondale would answer your summons, Gondowon. More swords on our side would definitely be a comforting notion."

"Gondowon, is it true that there is a dragon who is willing to help us confront your mentor? I had done much research on the magical creatures of Phanterra and all my leads pointed to the notion that dragons no longer existed. However, my connection to nature and the land led me to believe otherwise."

Khorvalis' voice is filled with a noticeable excitement as he talks about the subject of dragons.

"My dear Gondowon, the Circle of the Sun has been working hard to protect nature's fantastical beasts from harm... and now it pains us to hear that your once mentor, Fringe, has somehow learned a way to siphon the energy of these amazing creatures to use for his own convoluted ends."

"Aиd thёи I saїd: мy ship? I tнought sнe щas УOUЯ ship!'" Zandron's voice is followed by a chorus of titters, wafting down from the stairwell. The captain sways as if upon a stormy deck, each arm around a tavern wench. He leans to kiss the blonde on the cheek, but she shies away, blushing.

"Ugh," he groans, lifting his arms with care. He manages to release the girls without spilling much of his drink, and even manages to stumble down the stairs without spilling any more. They return to the bar, and he poses at the foot of the stairs, one leg raised to kneel upon the step. "I tнought I нёard tяouble."

He sips from a plain silver mug in his left hand, feathered hat hanging from his right. After a second sip, he plants the hat on his head, straightens the long, wrinkled blue coat, and strides forward.