Vennoa the Half-Elf Sorcerer

Chapter 3

Vennoa's body rocked back and forth as the caravan hit a bump on the road. Wait— a caravan? Vennoa's eyes, which she hadn't realized were closed in the first place, opened wide. She was seated in a caravan with a number of other people. How did I get here?

Vennoa tried to recall her last memory. She had gone into the adventurers' guild that morning, looking for the strange man in his chain-mail armor. What had happened after that?

"Hi, I'm Tempest, and I'm a monk off to look for adventures!" A half-naked man proudly declared out of the blue, flexing his arms in an apparent effort to look strong.

What kind of caravan is this? Vennoa shook her head to clear the cobwebs, and looked around. Besides her, there were three other people seated in the caravan, all men. They didn't look startled or worried about being in the caravan, so they probably knew what was going on.

Knowing better than to reveal her ignorance, Vennoa replied to Tempest, "Vennoa." The other two passengers, an elf ranger and half-elf ranger named Gaerril and Barkas, also introduced themselves, with similar levels of energy as Tempest.

Vennoa glanced at the front of the caravan, to see who was driving it. No one. Curious. This was a magical caravan of some sort.

"Do you know when we'll get there?" Vennoa asked.

"The convention? Probably just after sunset," the Barkas replied.

The Adventurers' Convention! Vennoa cursed under her breath. That strange man must be responsible somehow. He had been going on and on about the convention when they met that first night. Knowing that there was little more she could do, Vennoa kept her head down and waited patiently for the caravan to make its way there. Who knows? Maybe I will learn about my powers after all.

After a few more hours of a long, boring, bumpy, ride, they finally arrived. The other adventurers — Vennoa figured that she was now an adventurer if she was going to the adventurers' convention — chatted about idle things throughout the journey, but Vennoa mostly kept quiet, only speaking the bare minimum to keep things going.

The four people stepped out of the caravan. The sky was bright, and the weather was perfect. Vennoa could have sworn it was dusk just a second ago. The air was also remarkably different. It felt like the buzz in the adventurers' guild, but magnified many times. And there were so many people around. Were they all adventurers?

Vennoa gasped. She saw a floating being. Not just any floating being, but a giant eyeball with an even larger mouth. A giant eyeball with many little eyeballs dangling off of it. It radiated immense power, but somehow it looked... bored?

Vennoa glanced around. They were standing on an open grassland, beside a large fenced-off area. Vennoa realized that the giant eyeball wasn't alone — there were tens of them floating around the perimeter, and also inside. There were also guards dressed in full plate armor patrolling the area.

One eyeball floated over to them. It opened its big mouth filled with many sharp teeth, and Vennoa stiffened, her hand reaching for her trusty dagger.

"Welcome!" the eyeball said. It actually sounded friendly somehow. Vennoa noticed that the eyeball had a small card hanging off of its head (or body, or eye) that simply said "Staff".

The eyeball continued, "If you're here for the convention, the line to enter is right over there." A number of tendrils stretched and pointed to the left. There was a huge line of people waiting to get in. "If you're not here for the convention..." The eyeball looked at each of them in turn with a sinister smile.

Vennoa shuddered. Then the eyeball just floated away, heading towards another caravan that had just arrived.

Tempest shrugged and said, "I guess we should go join the line."