Crossroad wine

Unaware of his new mysterious enemy, Orion was walking around the city without any worries. It was his first time inside the human society, but social interaction was something he already knew, at least in theory.

"It's just like Grandpa had said," Orion thought as he wandered around. He was at the nearest city to the Death Forest right now, a city considered the entrance of the mighty empire.

Close to the forbidding expanse of the Death Forest, where shadows danced with the whispers of lurking dangers, Ellsmere thrived in defiance of fear. Despite the ever-present threat of beast waves, the city pulsated with vibrant life, a testament to the resilience and daring of its inhabitants.

Renowned as a hub for the trading of exotic beast materials, Ellsmere drew adventurers and mages from far and wide, each seeking their fortune amidst the untamed wilderness that lay beyond its walls. From the fangs of fearsome creatures to the shimmering scales of beasts, the city's markets overflowed with treasures harvested from the very heart of danger.

A decade of relative peace, coupled with the unwavering trust in protection of the empire, had transformed Ellsmere from a humble outpost into a bustling metropolis teeming with activity and opportunity. Its streets thrummed with the energy of commerce and ambition, its walls standing as a testament to the indomitable spirit of its people.

For Orion, the city was a revelation, a living tapestry woven from the threads of legend and lore that he had once only read about in dusty tomes. Though the reality before him differed from the pages of history, the essence of Ellsmere remained unchanged—a beacon of hope amidst the encroaching shadows.

Though a stranger to human lands, Orion's upbringing had prepared him well for the challenges that could cause troubles ahead. Guided by the wisdom of his grandfather and the steadfast lessons by his sister, orion ventured forth with confidence.

Armed with the knowledge of noble etiquette and the art of social interaction, Orion navigated the bustling streets of Ellsmere with ease, his keen eyes drinking in the sights and sounds of this new world. With each passing moment, he felt himself drawn deeper into the heart of the city, eager to uncover its secrets and liveliness.

As he ventured further into the heart of Ellsmere, Orion could not help but notice the changes upon the city. Orion had read about Elsmere in books from the orders library during his study about the empire. But time had wrought significant changes upon it, from its governance to its fortified defenses; the city had improved significantly. It was a stark reminder of the outdated nature of the information he carried, making him aware of his own lack of knowledge.

And so, with the lessons of his past guiding his every move, he wasn't worried about messing up. So he ventured further inside the city to know it better.

After whole days of wondering, Orion ambled through the twilight-kissed streets of Elsmere, his footsteps echoed softly against the cobblestones, each one a measured beat in the rhythm of his thoughts. The evening air was cool against his skin, carrying with it whispers of the day's end and promises of the night's adventures yet to unfold. He wandered without haste, his gaze wandering as he savored the last remnants of daylight, until at last, he found himself standing before the towering edifice of the most renowned tavern of the city.

With a pause at the threshold, Orion's eyes flickered upward, tracing the elegant curves of the tavern's name emblazoned upon a grand wooden sign that hung overhead, its letters worn smooth by time and weathered by countless tales of merriment and strife. "Crossroads wines," it said.

Without much lingering, orion pushed open the weighty wooden doors, immidiatly a symphony of sound and scent enveloped him, wrapping him in a tapestry woven of laughter and curses. The air was thick with the heady aroma of ale and hearth fires, mingling with the earthy scent of leather and the tantalizing hint of spices. Torches cast flickering shadows across the room, their flames dancing in time with the lively pulse of the tavern's heart.

In the dim light, figures moved and swayed like shadows in a dance, their voices rising and falling in a harmonious chorus of conversation and song. Grizzled veterans of a hundred battles sat at rough-hewn tables, their faces weathered by the passage of time and etched with the lines of countless stories. Tankards clashed together in raucous toasts, their contents sloshing over the brim in a frothy cascade of mirth.

Amidst the revelry, a lone bard plucked at the strings of his lute, weaving a melody that hung in the air like a delicate thread, binding the disparate souls of the tavern together in a shared moment of harmony.

As the heavy wooden door creaked open, the tavern fell momentarily silent, all eyes turning to the figure who stepped inside. Despite being only forteen years old, orion carried himself with a confidence and grace that belied his age. His towering physique and chiseled features caught the attention of the patrons, causing more than a few surprised glances to be cast his way.

With long, crimson locks cascading around his shoulders and piercing red eyes that seemed to gleam in the flickering torchlight, he possessed an otherworldly beauty that demanded attention. Though his youth was evident, the sharpness and lack of sofness of his features, made him apear 16 or 17 years of age. But it was more so, because there was a maturity in his demeanor that hinted at experiences far beyond his years.

As he made his way further into the tavern, the whispers and murmurs of the other patrons followed in his wake, their curiosity piqued by the enigmatic newcomer who bore an air of nobility that few dared to question.

Ignoring the whispers and sidelong glances that followed him like lingering shadows, Orion strode with purpose towards the solitary table nestled in the dimly lit corner of the tavern. Each step was measured, each movement deliberate, as though he were carving a path through the sea of faces with nothing but sheer force of will.

As he drew closer to his destination, the voices of the hunters grew louder, their words dripping with disdain and contempt for the young noble who dared to tread in their midst. "Dandy nobels," they muttered under their breath, their words heavy with the weight of centuries of resentment and mistrust. But even as they spoke, they had to admit that Despite his alluring features, there was an undeniable aura of power and mystery that surrounded him, leaving those who beheld him unable to look away.