"Haven? What the hell kind of name is Haven?"
The speaker stood on the deck of a large ship, watching as cargo and supplies for the colony were unloaded by muscle-bound porters. Let the humans and the half-orcs do the heavy lifting, he had so much more to offer than the ability to move boxes... his wisdom and witticisms were among those talents that he considered his most capable.
Long blonde hair was pulled back behind his shoulders, tied with a simple black strip of leather to keep it out of his way, and it cascaded nearly half-way down the length of his slender form which, when coupled with the pronounced point to his ears, marked him as an elf. Other than the obvious physical cues, however, there was little to prove that he had been born among the trees of his kind; the elf named Caladrel and who called himself the Dualblade was brash and headstrong, entirely certain that he was faster and more capable than you with his swords, and entirely unafraid to draw steel to prove it. He walked with the rolling swagger that all men who had spent considerable time at sea did, as if the long captain's coat and bandana that he wore didn't give away enough of a hint that he had spent at least a portion of his life honing his skills on the high seas.
The coat was a deep black, trimmed at the hems with a bright red that matched the bandana that kept stray locks of hair out of his face, and it swirled easily around his feet as he moved, though it appeared to be weighted just enough to make it's motions deliberate and calculated, rather than unpredictable as Caladrel moved... and as it swayed and swirled, it revealed occasional glimpses of the hilts of the matching short swords belted at his waist in a broad, deceptively loose-looking belt. And it was as well taken care of as the rest of his attire, the jet black leather vest that he wore over a long-sleeved crimson red shirt, and matching, plain black trousers that were tucked into knee-high leather boots. The outfit was as flashy and showy as the elf who wore them, who normally wore a large, self-satisfied grin on his face when he knew that he was the center of attention. Now, though, as he surveyed the colony from the deck of the ship that had brought himself and his companions here, he shook his head slowly.
"This place is a dump. There can't be anyone or anything here worth being here for, can there?"
"That depends on what you consider worth being here. Alex seems to be convinced that the money and chance for adventure are worth being here for... and you know he likes showing off almost as much as you do."
The new voice belonged to a man that looked almost exactly like the one that was walking next to him, one of a pair of nearly-identical twin brothers. Both were the same height and same general build, both wore their dark brown hair cut short and clean; the only way to tell the two of them apart was to look them dead in the eye... the only biological difference between Sung and Alex Olquin was in their eyes. Sung's right eye was a brilliant crystal blue, while his left was an emerald green, and Alex's were just the opposite. Beyond that, the two were so physically alike that they could... and had, in the past... pose as one another and confuse anyone who was only passingly familiar with them.
That wasn't to say, however, that the brothers were difficult to tell apart in normal situations, however. In fact, most people had no trouble at all telling them apart when they were together and dressed as they were now... and no matter what Sung might have to say about his brother and showing off, none of the three of them were immune to or strangers to being gawked at on the streets.
"You're one to talk, your holiness..." Caladrel drew out the title as he looked back at Sung, whose gold-trimmed white robes were shockingly clean, despite the conditions on board the ship they'd been travelling on. Neither of the other two had cared to ask how he kept the robes so clean, though considering how much had been spent on them neither would have been surprised to discover that they were enchanted with a magic of some kind just to keep dirty and other sources of grime from sticking to the fabric. "You do know than when people realize that you're not actually a cleric or any official religious personage, they're going to rebel about as quickly as that last group did, don't you?"
"It's not my fault those people were worshipping me. I didn't even know it was happening at the time..."
"And you didn't do much to stop it when you did figure it out. We tried to tell you, by the way. That's the only place we've been that the people paid more attention to you than they did Caladrel and I. That ought to have told you something right there."
Alex's voice was light and teasing, his eyes flashing with amusement as an easy grin split his face, and it didn't take much to figure out what it was that drew people's attention to him as he leaned against the railing of the ship as it bobbed at the docks. Where Caladrel was flashy and impressive, and Sung looked every bit the part of a high priest, Alex's simple long-sleeved shirt and cotton trousers were downright utilitarian, his boots hard-soled and worn, with a vest that had pockets on nearly every reachable surface. In shades of ivory and brown, there was doubt that none of it was particularly note-worthy.
But where his outfit looked like it was compensating for the wealth of attention that the other two members of the small group would attract, Alex knew full well that no small number of the people that were standing at the docks, just out of the way of the workers unloading the ship to gawk at the new batch of adventurers, were trying to figure out just what it was that was slung across his back, or what he had sitting in the odd-looking sheath at his right hip. There were only a very few people in the world that were as on the cutting edge of weapons' technology as Alex was... and as pointed as that terminology might seem, the lightweight pistol and longer rifle that he carried had nothing whatsoever in common with anything that had come before them. Even the mighty crossbows and war bows paled in comparison to the sheer destructive force that he carried so almost-negligently at his side.
"Well if they hadn't been so used to tithing half their income to their clergy, I might have been more inclined to tell them what was really going on. And I didn't hear either of the two of you saying anything to them about the situation. You were just as perfectly happy to take their money while we were exploring those ruins as I was."
"We weren't the ones impersonating a cleric of Iomedae." Caladrel shrugged lightly, his attention following the last of the dock workers as they finished with their work, and then he nodded towards the gangplank as it emptied. "Looks like they're done. Come on, let's go see what riches and wealth Haven holds for us..."
Together they walked down the gangplank to the docks, with the elf in the lead and the gunslinger bringing up the rear. It was a brave new world, and there was no telling what they would experience or encounter here, though first up on their plans was the nearest inn with available roms that wasn't too far from a tavern...
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