Baron Eldrige

As the sun sets, Argon and Brolan return to their apartment, the weight of the day's events still lingering in their minds. After a hearty meal prepared by Brolan, they retire for the night, each lost in their own thoughts.

The next morning arrives with a cool breeze that stirs them awake. Argon stretches, his body sore but energized, the excitement of meeting Baron Eldrige a potent motivator. Brolan, too, is awake early, preparing a quick breakfast of fresh bread and ripe fruit.

As they eat, the mood between them is quiet and tense, a stark contrast to the usual banter-filled mornings they've grown accustomed to. Today's meeting is significant. It's an opportunity, a turning point that could potentially elevate their status and secure a safer, more prosperous future.

After finishing their meal, they quickly clean up and suit up in their armours. Argon wears his new helmet with the artefacts embedded, its black visage lending him an intimidating aura. Brolan, although not as menacing, carries himself with a newfound confidence that the metal armour provides.

Checking the parchment Charles had given them one last time, they make their way out of the apartment, stepping into the bustling city of the Merchant area. It's a beautiful day, the sun shining brightly and the streets full of life.

The journey to the Centre is a long one, but they don't mind. Today, they're not just Argon and Brolan, former slum dwellers. They're Argon and Brolan, potential guards of a noble. It's a new chapter in their lives, and they're ready to face it head-on.

Both Argon and Brolan march towards the impressive gates of the Centre, feeling the weight of the situation. The Centre, the most prosperous and exclusive part of the city, was a world apart from the slums and even the merchant area they'd grown accustomed to. Palatial residences, ornate gardens, and opulent shops filled the view, all bathed in the soft golden light of morning.

As they approach the heavily guarded entrance, a stern guard in bright and polished armour steps forward, halting them with an extended palm. His eyes, a steely grey, bore into theirs, assessing them.

"Halt! Present your rings!" the guard barks, his voice echoing slightly off the stone walls.

Argon's eyebrows furrow in confusion. He wasn't given any rings, only the parchment. Hoping it's sufficient, he pulls out the parchment and hands it to the guard. The guard's gaze drops to the document, eyes moving swiftly across the inked words. The tension is palpable as Argon and Brolan await his verdict.

After what seems like an eternity, the guard nods, folding the parchment back up before returning it to Argon. "Everything is in order," he says, his voice noticeably softer. He steps aside, gesturing for them to enter. "Proceed."

Relieved, Argon and Brolan enter the Centre, ready to meet their potential future employer, Baron Eldrige.

Argon and Brolan continue their walk through the Centre, their eyes drinking in the incredible opulence that surrounds them. They marvel at the manors with their expansive courtyards, ornate fountains, and lush gardens filled with exotic flowers in vibrant hues.

Eventually, they come to a halt in front of a particularly grand estate that dwarfs the surrounding residences in both size and magnificence. This, they realize, must be Baron Eldrige's house.

The mansion is a striking marvel of Seric architecture, a resplendent mix of grandeur and elegance. Imposing white marble walls stretch skywards, their surface shimmering in the morning sunlight. Turrets and battlements lend the mansion a fortress-like feel, while intricate bas-reliefs of heroic battles and mythical creatures add a touch of artistic charm.

The main entrance is flanked by two marble statues of gryphons, their fierce gaze seeming to guard the property. A cobblestone pathway, lined with neatly trimmed hedges and radiant flowers, leads up to large double doors of ornate mahogany. Stained glass windows glitter above the doorway, casting colourful light onto the entryway.

A manicured garden spreads out on either side of the mansion, a symphony of colours from the various flower beds and exotic plants. An impressive fountain featuring a mermaid pouring water from a conch shell is the centrepiece of the garden. A cobblestone path meanders through the garden, past topiaries and benches, eventually disappearing into a charming orchard in the distance.

Despite their past experiences and adventures, Argon and Brolan can't help but feel a sense of awe as they take in the splendour of Baron Eldrige's abode.

With a nod from the gatekeeper, Argon and Brolan step onto the marble-paved driveway. The gatekeeper, a middle-aged man with a warm, welcoming smile, takes the parchment from Argon.

"Good day, sirs," he says in a gravelly voice, reading over the parchment. "This seems to be in order. Baron Eldrige is expecting you. Please, follow me."

They're led through the ornate double doors and into a grand entrance hall adorned with paintings, sculptures, and exquisite chandeliers. The gatekeeper then calls out, "Thorne, the Baron's guests have arrived!"

A crisp voice echoes back, "Right away!" Before long, a tall, austere man appears. Dressed in a pristine black tunic, with an impeccably groomed beard and a silver tray in hand, the man strides toward them.

"Gentlemen, welcome," he says, extending a hand to Argon. "I am Thorne, the Baron's butler. Please, follow me to the drawing room. The Baron is having his morning tea."

With that, Thorne turns on his heel and begins to lead them through the mansion's expansive interior, towards the drawing room and their impending meeting with Baron Eldrige.

Thorne knocked gently on the heavy, polished oak door, "Master Eldrige, Charles's recommendations are here."

The voice that responded was deep, cultured, and slightly amused, "Send them in."

Both men take off their helmets. As they walked into the room, they saw a man sitting on a luxurious armchair by the window, where afternoon sunlight filtered in and played across the surface of his tea set, painting it gold. Baron Eldrige was a man in his late fifties with a full head of silver hair brushed back from his forehead, a neat beard to match, and sharp, hawkish features. His eyes were of a bright blue hue, intelligent and probing, framed by heavy brows. He was clad in a crisp white tunic and a deep blue toga, the insignia of his house skillfully embroidered at the corners.

He looked up at their entrance, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Which one of you is Argon?" he asked, his gaze flicking between the two.

Argon stepped forward, "That would be me, sir."

His gaze landed on Brolan, and a frown tugged at his forehead. "I wasn't expecting a second." His tone was not accusing but held a note of confusion.

Argon responded quickly, "My apologies, Master Eldrige. I had assumed Charles would have mentioned it." His voice was steady but respectful, a tone he rarely used.

Brolan, who had been standing quietly behind Argon, stepped forward at this point, "Brolan, sir. I am Argon's slave."

Eldrige nodded, a spark of interest in his eyes, "Good, good."

He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he studied Argon with more intensity. "Charles spoke highly of you, said you bear the attribute artefact." His gaze flicked towards the helmet hanging from Argon's belt. "But he did not mention anything about a Dayless Helmet. A truly impressive piece for a commoner."

Argon didn't respond, letting Eldrige continue. The older man let out a sigh, setting his cup down with a clink. "I require more guards. It seems the peasants of my territories are becoming rather... unruly. I think your attributes might be of great use." His tone was matter-of-fact, but his eyes held a calculated gleam. He was measuring Argon's potential usefulness, and Argon knew he had to prove his worth.

"Certainly," Eldrige nods, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But, you understand, I'll need to test your abilities before anything is finalized. Please, do not activate your artefact; let my knight assess your natural skill."

Argon nodded, "Understandable."

At this, Eldrige raised his voice slightly, "Thorne!"

The butler appeared almost instantly, "Yes, Master Eldrige?"

Eldrige steepled his fingers, a moment of silence passing as he deliberated. Finally, he spoke, "Summon Damion and Sir Garrick. Tell them to meet us in the garden."

Thorne bowed, "At once, Master Eldrige," before slipping out of the room. Argon could only guess what this test might entail, but he was prepared to demonstrate his abilities.

Eldrige leads them through the opulence of his mansion and into the sprawling garden, a perfect fusion of nature and aristocratic indulgence. The greenery was meticulously maintained, flowers bloomed in a plethora of colours, and an elegantly constructed gazebo sat at the heart of it all.

Eldrige turned to Argon, "You'll spar with one of my house guards here on the property. Sir Garrick will assess your abilities."

As he spoke, two figures emerged from the mansion's entrance, their forms silhouetted by the mansion's grandeur. As they neared, Argon observed them with interest.

The first was a burly man with an intimidating presence. His muscular frame was encased in gleaming Dayless armour that reflected the sunlight, giving him an ethereal glow. This was clearly Sir Garrick.

The other was slimmer, more agile looking. His armour was of a simpler make, befitting a guard, but it did nothing to undermine his formidable look. This must be Damion.

Eldrige turned to his men, detailing the arrangement, before the knight clad in Dayless, Sir Garrick, handed Argon and Damion wooden swords. It was time for Argon to prove his worth.