-  Get job
- Eat
- Take bath
- Get laid

Prioritize, Drake. You’ve got to keep your priorities straight.

The young swordsman sighed as he looked through the various articles on his list, tuning out the conversation of his three associates around the table. He had a tendency to do that from time to time, which had earned him the reputation of being ‘the quiet, brooding one.’ As cliché as it seemed to the young man, it wasn’t too far from the truth. Perhaps ‘brooding’ wasn’t the word that he would have used, seeing as it had a tendency to be followed by the word ‘psychopath’, which typically was not how he wanted to be labeled. Nonetheless, being the ‘quiet, brooding one’ wasn’t without its privileges; for one, it left him free to dabble with his notes from time to time, without the fear that someone would get on his case about it. After all, that’s what he was expected to do, and people usually respected that about him. If nothing else, it gave him time to get into the right mindset for the day’s activities, or, like in this case, make sure his list of priorities was in order.

      - Eat
- Get laid
- Take bath
- Get job

There was a certain freedom that came from being a freelancer; there was always an opportunity for travel, he and his friends more or less made their own hours, and chicks seemed to dig it whenever he told them what he did for a living. Pay varied from job to job, but Drake was certain that he was told that it was all about the experience when he was younger; he couldn’t remember the name of the teacher that had given him that advice, but made a mental note to find and slap him should he remember. There was nothing wrong with doing a job simply for the experience of doing it, but there certainly wasn’t anything wrong with getting paid for it, either. Maybe he would change his outlook once he got to the point where money was not a concern, but with the way employment had been of late, he didn’t see that day coming anytime soon. After giving it some more thought, Drake decided that perhaps a final revision to his list was in order.

      - Eat
- Get laid
- Get job
- Take bath

Silence. Drake was familiar with it, and it usually meant that everyone was staring in his direction. The young man slowly lifted his head and sure enough, found his three associates looking at him. At the head of the table sat Misfara, the cute redhead smiling as usual, while the Islander Narek smirked and tapped a claw on the oaken table. Next to him sat the mage Ryugo, the young Nixen knowing better than to make a sarcastic remark for a change. “So Drake,” Misfara addressed, shrugging lightly. “What’s on your mind?”

      Looking down at the list for a moment, he shrugged. “Sacrifices,” he responded, slipping his pad into his backpack. “Sorry if I tuned out there for a bit.”

      There was a short laugh from behind him, coming from the doorway. “Well, it seems that everyone’s here,” came a young man’s voice. “My apologies for being a bit late, I kind of got caught up with some unfinished business…”

      “Oh really now?” Misfara smirked. “And what was her name?”

      There was a quick laugh from the group as the young man stepped inside of the room, giving Drake a good look at him. He knew him by reputation and by tales from Narek and Misfara alike, but this was the first time Drake had gotten the opportunity to meet him. He was a stocky and clean-shaven young man of medium height, his brown hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. He was simply attired, and the sleeves of this shirt were rolled up, revealing his well-muscled arms. His dark eyes regarded all present, a smirk ever-present on his face. Drake nodded slowly to himself. So this was the infamous Neil Vulto, made famous by more exploits than Drake could currently recall. Misfara and Narek had told him time and time again that the three of them studied together at Taria, but Drake didn’t think that he would get an opportunity to meet him. After all, this was the guy that not only pissed off the king of Malstron, but also allegedly had a relationship with the daughter of Lady Idolsa Vakaal, Mistress of the Dalsrayon. Drake could only smile inwardly as the realization dawned upon him that he was in the presence of greatness. “So,” Neil began, clapping his hands together suddenly. “I trust that Misfara’s briefed you all on the situation?” Ryogo timidly raised his hand. Drake slowly shook his head, knowing the mage well enough to realize that a series of questions was on the way.

      “Mr. Vulto,” the robed Nixen youth began. “When Misfara explained the situation to us, she used a very strong phrase that concerns me to a degree…” He took a deep breath. “I believe she said this had something to do with the Cult of Xantathus?”

      Neil nodded. “Yes indeedy!”

      “THE Cult of Xantathus?”

      “The same.”

      “The Cult of Xantathus located in Destratos?”

            “The only one I’m familiar with.”

            “THE Cult of Xantathus, follows of THE Xantathus, the same Xantathus that…”

            “Did Misfara mention the 5000 gold up front?”

            Ryugo suddenly froze. He sat silent for a moment, contemplating what he had just been told. “I’m sorry, but did you just say 5000 up front?” he wondered.

            Neil smiled. “Yes I did.”

            The young mage sat silent once again, pondering. “Well, 5000 isn’t that bad, even split up among the four of us, which should leave us about, let’s see…”

            “Each.”

            The room was suddenly taken over by an instantaneous and tangible silence. Ryugo’s mouth hung half-open, his next question suddenly vanishing back into the void from whence it came. Similar looks of shock were present upon the faces of the others as well. “Is everyone ok?” Neil casually wondered, looking about the room.

            Drake shrugged. “I think I have to check both sides of my pants now, but I should be fine.”

            “5000 up front, plus wages, and whatever other expenses you need covered along the way.” Neil leaned upon the table. “And passage to the Haven colony for those that want it, no questions asked…

            “H… how?” Ryugo stammered.

            “Rule number one about being a merc,” Narek remarked, speaking up for the first time. “Never ask your employer ‘how’.” The Islander then turned his attention towards Neil and raised a brow. “Though Neil, as a friend, I have to admit that I’m a bit curious myself…” Misfara seemed to echo his sentiments, nodding in agreement.

            Neil nodded slowly. “Well, the bottom line is that we’ve found a method to realmwalk per say, without having to go through all of the red tape and paperwork that King Baptiste is requiring. It’s a perfect way to get out of here, especially those of us that may have a blemish or eight on our records.” His words struck true within the hearts of all of those present, all of which realized that they probably would not be able to leave the realm otherwise. With the city of Malstron currently having the only means to travel to the new Haven colony, it meant that they alone had the say as to who was allowed to travel to the new world. One of the mandates that had been set by the kingdom was that anyone possessing any sort of criminal record was automatically barred from candidacy. On the other hand, King Baptiste had stated that any of these individuals that helped deal with the Wargod situation could possibly earn a pardon; unfortunately, death seemed to come more often than a chance at redemption. In that particular room were five young men and women that, under the mandate set by King Baptiste, could never leave the realm, doomed to eventually die at the hands of the Wargod ravaging the land. “So,” Neil concluded, looking about the room. “Are you in? No hard feelings if you say no…”

            “You know that Narek and I are in,” Misfara informed, to which her reptilian associate nodded.

            “Count us in too, boss,” Drake added, glaring in Ryugo’s direction, and cutting off any more questions the young mage might have had.

            A smile found its way onto Neil’s face as he nodded. “You each have my gratitude, and of course, some of my money,” he informed them, bowing his head slightly. “I need the four of you to wrap up whatever business you may have left here, and meet me back here in an hour. We’re meeting with another company in the morning, and hence need to move out as soon as possible. Once we’re all assembled, you’ll get the full briefing on the situation.” He clapped his hands together again, making his way back over towards the door. “I’ll see you all in an hour,” he informed on his way out. “And again, I thank each of you.”