Hjolmir Stoneshield rubbed his eyes and looked out the window of the library of the University of Erudition. The sun was slowly setting. He yawned and stretched. “Time for a break,” He mumbled through his yawn. His stomach rumbled as the words left his mouth. He looked at his belly. “And some food.” He muttered to himself. Hjolmir put the half a dozen books back on their shelves, stroking the spines of them. Maybe I could stay for a tiny bit longer. His stomach rumbled louder, “Fine!” he said, huffing as he picked up his coat and shoulder bag. He left the university and looked for a horse and carriage. He saw one of those strange Gnomish carriages and shook his head. A goblin carriage road up to him, “Yeah, want a ride?” he asked, “No,” Hjolmir said absently as he was looking for a carriage with a horse. After a few minutes, he discovered one. The carriage ride from the university to Luna and Hope took over an hour, and by the time he arrived, the sun had set, and the green moon of Titiana sat high in the cloudless starry night. The nightlife of the city slowly came alive in the warm summer nighttime.
Gorack greeted Hjolmir as he entered the inn. He sat down and ordered a small meal and a drink. While he ate, he thought of all he had learned in the past few days. The information on the fay and the location of the Grandmother Hag, deep in the Titan Forest in a place called The Bedlam. The little he learned of the strange magic he had discovered during his trip with Elgath and the one who had hired his services, Ash of the Mercier family—magic for war and destruction. These thoughts swirled in his mind as he slumbered for the night.
Hjolmir squinted at the bright sun as he exited the Luna and Hope Inn. As his eyes adjusted, he looked around for a carriage. Suddenly, a shadow descended upon him, “You Hjolmir” a deep voice asked. He turned and saw two towering muscular Orcs in blue suits. “I’m Mog, and this is Mag,” the same voice said. “Mag,” said the other almost identical orc in a gravelly tone. “Eh, Boss?” Hjolmir inquired. “Ash Mercier, he wants you to look at some artifacts and see if they're magic and stuff. Sent us to fetch you.” Said Mog, “Fetch you,” repeated Mag.
“I see. Well, I am a bit busy now. So maybe another time,” Hjolmir replied. “Ain't a matter of discussion, you come willingly or not. You are still coming. I thought I would allow you to come on your own accord. But we can do the other way if need be.” Mog replied, “Need be,” said Mag. Hjolmir thought about that for a few seconds. He could run inside. The protection of the Inn would surely keep them away from him, but he now also had the opportunity to view some artifacts. “Let us go then.” He told the one he thought was Mog.
The trip took Hjomir to a place he did not expect. They arrived at a large warehouse in the High Shanty. Ash awaited them with his stoic bodyguard, the odd human with the red leather trench coat. “Ah, Hjomir, so happy you could make it,” Ash said as he slapped him on the shoulder, " Not much of a choice." Thed dwarf replied. “He, good one.” Ash said, “Well, let's go.” Ash knocked on a door in the warehouse. A small slit opened, and Ash handed the man a note and a gold coin. A few seconds later, the door opened. A grey-skinned tiefling, flanked by a burly black dragonborn. “This way,” the tiefling said in a high-pitched tone. Hjomir, Ash, Mog, Mag, and the bodyguard walked through the warehouse stacked high with barrels and boxes, many of which were marked by symbols, glyphs, and Heralds. They came to another door, which the tiefling opened. Inside was a large table and half a dozen shelves stacked with items. The tielfing took them to the table. There were six items on it: a dagger with a brass blade, a metal box with unrecognizable glyphs, A small jade ball engraved with golden elven runes, a black steel collar with small silver spikes on the inside, a stone slab with giant runes carved into it and a small iron box carved with ancient dwarven runes. Hjolmirs eyes scanned the table and instantly settled on the one with dwarven markings. “So, how much for the lot?” Ash asked. “5000 Imperial Thrones or platinum if you prefer to trade in Trader’s coin.” The tieflign replied. “Wow, that’s a bit overpriced.” Ash said, “That’s the price, take it or leave it.” The tieflign said. “Well, we will see if it’s the real thing. Hjolmir, do your thing. Tell me if it's magical or has any historical value.” Hjolmir cast detect magic and picked up the dwarven mithril steel cube, which radiated weak temporal, transmutation, and divine magic. He studied the runes and realized that it was a puzzle. He started solving it once he recognized it, his finger was working quickly. “Hey, no sampling the merchandise.” The tiefling said, “He is not sampling. He is testing the authenticity of the device.” As those words left Ash's mouth, Hjolmir had solved the puzzle, and the world froze. In his mind's eye, he was somewhere else, and a voice was talking to him, teaching him the intricate and complicated arcane arts and how to strengthen his mind and body and weave the arcane with subtlety and understanding. It felt as if months had passed. Hjomir blinked, and the box was snatched out of his hands. “Touching and looking is fine, but no fiddling with the merchandise,” the tielfing said. “Fine,” Ash replied; he looked at Hjolmir. “ Well.” The dwarf looked back towards the box and noticed that the magic had vanished; it was now just a puzzle box of dwarven origin. He told him as much. “Disappointing,” Ash said. Hjolmir studied the other items. The jade orb was fake; illusion magic made it look like jade. It was green glass and lead-painted gold, worthless. The knife had some magic, making it as strong as steel. It was a few hundred years old and was from the continent of Amitan. The stone tablet was at least five hundred years old but had no magic. The writing was a recipe for a spicy meat-based meal. The collar was charged with evocation and necrotic magic. Hjolmir did not know where the item hailed from. The Tiefling said it was from the Dominion. The last item had a powerful aura of abjuration. The symbols looked like ancient languages known as Xien ( See-en) and said to have been an ancient empire that existed where the Empire of Koth is now—said to have exsisted over a thousand years ago. After some negotiation, Ash bought the Box with the Xien glyphs, the dagger, and the collar. As Ash left, he turned to Hjomir, “ Thanks. If you are interested in a job, your Druid friend would be quite useful. A friend of mine lost an item and needs help finding it: you and your Druid friend were quite useful on the treasure hunt. So, I thought you might be interested. I’d pay you, of course, for whomever you want to hire. Say 200gp plus whatever the cost of hiring folks is. Think about it. I’ll send this guy to the Luna and Hope tomorrow for your answer." He nodded towards the man in the red leather coat. "Well, thanks, the carriage will take you wherever you want.” As he stepped into his fancy gobline clockwork carriage with Mog, Mag, and the bodyguard. Hjolmir took the carriage to the library, his mind full of new knowledge and experience. That box had done something to him, expanded his knowledge, and was one of six.