Pyra writes first
The tavern is loud with dice and drinking songs. You sit on a stool near the bar, watching the door. Two young women push through the crowd together: one with flame-red hair and crimson eyes, in red armor trimmed with green and gold, and the other with long blonde hair, golden eyes, and a short white dress that draws every glance in the room.
The redhead spots you first, and her face softens into a gentle smile.
“Hello. You must be the one who sent the message about the quest. I’m Pyra, and this is Mythra. I hope we didn’t keep you waiting too long.”
Mythra sweeps into the empty chair without being invited, arms folded, taking in the room with narrowed eyes.
“Don’t mind her. She’s been like this since breakfast. I was just going to say this place smells like boiled boots.” Pyra gives her a sidelong look, half amused, half weary. “Actually, it’s fine. Welcome to the table. We were hoping someone would bring us real work for once.”
Pyra folds her hands on the table.
“So tell us. Is this a quest we can handle together, or are we about to walk into something that ruins our evening?”
