The day has arrived.  At invitation from the Lord Mayor of Restov, you report to the Council House, your official invitations getting you past the guards and to the center of the seat of power.

You find the Lord Mayor Ioseph Sellemius at his seat of power.  It is technically not a throne, for the Lord Mayor rules not a kingdom, just the free town.  Nevertheless, it is an imposing meeting, and the Lord Mayor examines you with a critical eye.

"I have been tasked," the Lord Mayor begins, "With taming a section of the Stolen Lands known as Greenbelt.  You have been recommended to me through my agents, and I have a charter which grants license to explore and map this section, starting at a remote trading post in rural Rostland.  Oleg's, if I remember correctly.  In recent weeks, the owner of this trading post has sought aid from us to counter increasing bandit activity in the region. Such a thing can not, of course, be tolerated in our land."

He surveys you, arching an eye.  "Any questions?"

"My Lord Mayor," the short elven lass dressed in a less flamboyant and more functional version of the city's fashion greets their host as she gathers her cape and bows stiffly--for all the graces she possesses the social ones are not among them. She introduces herself briefly to the official and the others gathered and asks, "Saviǣ Æssildais at your service. The Stolen Lands brim with danger, and not only from bandits. How would you compensate us for such a dangerous undertaking?"

Aeron also bowed to the Lord Mayor.  He had no personal interest in accruing wealth - his parents had always had more than enough and it didn't seem to make them any happier.  Having seen first hand the damage other bandits had caused, he would have been willing go suppress bandits them for free.  However, he needed food for himself and for his steed as well as money for replacing any gear that was damaged and such... so he was not saddend by another asking after it.

"No questions, milord mayor."  He supplied as minimally as possible.  He'd practiced how to speak to people in civil authority so as to avoid trouble... and the gist of what he had gotten down thus far was: don't.  Whenever possible, just don't.  Other soldiers - even high ranking officers - he spoke well enough with, but he just didn't have the same connection with others.

Thurak had stomped into the Lord Mayor's chambers, his large half-orcish body ill-suited for subtlety. He wears simple, functional clothes and medium armor. His arms are covered in poorly healed burns, somewhat concealed by tattoos representing the holy symbols of several different gods.

As the mayor speaks, Thurak forces his face to stay stiff and emotionless, mostly successful in his attempts to avoid seeming overawed by the surroundings. Thurak had grown up among thieves and brigands himself, before he had been chosen for bigger and better things and left that life behind. He was unused to rulers and kings, nor their accoutrements. That will change one day. The gods of order have chosen me, and I will not fail them. He thinks to himself. He had seen it all in a waking hallucination as he near burned to death.

He speaks with a fiery passion and a surprising elegance for an only minimally educated half-orc. "I know the location, and the dangers. I was born and raised amongst those scum, and well know their ways. I am prepared to accept the duties of this charter upon myself, and if these others are as well, I will welcome assistance. I would ask if you have any details about the aid this Oleg has sought, or any information you might already have from your scouts."

 To say that Oghul did not quite fit in the city was a kind euphemism. The half-elf seemed constantly on edge, anxious about anything too obviously unnatural. She knew of towns and cities of course, and had visited a few in her youth, but spending more than half a century traveling the plains with her tribe did not quite equip her to be at ease in this setting.

 Her attire of linens and hides made it perfectly obvious that she would be more at her place in the wild. When after a long hesitation she did open her mouth though, her voice came out surprisingly poised and articulate.

 "I have traveled through the Greenbelt before, and though I know not of this Oleg, I can imagine his and his family's plight," she said softly, a faint mongrel accent in her voice suggesting she had learnt the common tongue slowly and from many different speakers.

 "Two questions come to my mind, M'Lord," she started hesitantly, an awkward edge to her composure.
 "Firstly, what does taming the land involve? And secondly, what is to be done with the bandits you have mentioned?"

 She did not know any of the others in the room, and refrained from judging them on their appearance. There as something about each of them however, she could sense, that appealed to her on some level.

Mayor Iosef surveys the motley collection of adventurers in front of him.

He grinned as Saviǣ raised the first question.  "Straight to the point.  I can respect that.  You have no idea what things are often like in the courts of Restov.  We can not, of course, let banditry run wild in these lands.  If you can manage this bandit problem - say, killing at least six of these law-breakers, and Oleg provides reports that bandit activity has been reduced, I can authorize the treasury to release a payment of 400gp to you via Oleg."

He nodded imperiously to the next two to speak, glad his agents had chosen well, people who knew what they were getting into and properly respected his post.  To the final speaker, he thought for a moment.

"In Restov, the penalty for repeated banditry would be death.  The Greenbelt, not part of Restov proper..." The mayor trails off, leaving an unspoken "yet" that betrays his plans for the region.  "As such, it is not subject to the same rules.  As duly-appointed agents of the crown, you would certainly be authorized to carry out the same justice.  At the same time, as independent agents operating far from here, I recognize that you may require some leeway.  As long as you achieve the mission of exploring these lands as laid out in your charter, I give you free reign to choose your strategy." Another stern look betrays the unspoken threat behind this: Fail, or produce chaos that reaches me, and I will revoke the charter and end your adventure. "As far as what taming the lands means, in truth, the Swordlords and the Regent of the Dragonscale Throne have no idea what the Greenbelt holds.  We have sent similar groups with similar charters to other locations.  In short, we wish to know what lies on our southern border.  Are there valuable resources?  Dens of monster that threaten our safety?  Perhaps these bandits threatening Oleg and his trading post have a larger force hiding in the wilderness that may pose a threat.  Explore the region, map it, and report back what you find."

The elf starts and blinks at the sizable bounty offered by the Lord Mayor. She was on the verge of putting together her own expedition to explore the Stolen Lands and would have taken this mission merely at the offer of helpers, but a reward well beyond what a guard captain would make and three supposedly competent aides to go with it was beyond what should could hope. Unsure of what to say without giving away her excitement, she merely nods and bows again respectfully--and awkwardly.

 The first mention the Lord Mayor of the success of their enterprise being measured by whether or not they would kill six bandits made the latter point somewhat moot. Oghul was not one to kill lightly, and if given an option would alway offer an opportunity of redemption to wrongdoers... however it seemed that in lawless lands these values may be tricky to uphold.

 Unless there was more to be discussed, the druid was content with the conversation being left there. Shortly after she would introduce the others to her mount. A blooded foal of smallish proportions but apparently cut for speed.
 "His name is Temudjin, and he has taken me to many places. He is but a foal, but his kin do not grow much taller. His mother was my companion for years, but she retired to endless pastures just last year."

 This abundance of words and personal information was unusual for the half-elf, something the others would come to discover later on. She was apparently only ever this loquacious when it came to her horse.