The entrance shimmered, evidence of a new arrival.  A human and an elf sitting together at a table near the sixty foot long bar turned their heads in unison to evaluate the new arrival.  Hopping into the Inn, the Gnome was laughing to himself while hastily slapping the smoking fringe of his cloak.  “Woah, now THAT was a close one”, the Gnome exclaimed loudly to no one in-particular.

 The Human smiled and turning to the Elf said, “That’d be Namblin”.  The Elf simply raised an eyebrow and lifted his smoking wine glass to his lips.

Frank’s Place sounds like a simple place but this Inn is far from it.   There is only one way to get to Frank’s and that is by using the portals.  And even with that bit of knowledge there are those that would kill to know the series of combinations it takes to arrive at this wonderful magical Inn.  King’s pay fortunes in failed attempts to find entrance to this mysterious Inn.   Frank’s place is reserved for only those who are the most powerful and legendary of all who live.  Often referred to as ‘The Last Dungeon’, Frank’s is where adventurers of the greatest abilities find refuge from the mundane. 

The tables are all different.  Some made from the finest gofer wood, inlaid with runes and trim that would put a master craftsman to shame.  Some seem to be made of solid polished stone, onyx, alabaster and granite.  The bar at the main level is sixty feet long and its top is nearly frictionless or at least as frictionless as it needs to be as the half-ogre bartender slides various concoctions down its length only to have them stop precisely where they are meant to.  Well endowed female half-elves gracefully maneuver from table to table serving the finest food and drink to Frank’s unique clientele.

No one is really sure how big Frank’s place is.  There is always a room available and there always seems to be just enough workers to offer the highest level of hospitality.  Platinum is the currency most used at Frank’s Place as those who do not have more than a few pouches of the highly prized coins are not going to find their way to this mysterious wonderland.    Adventurers who have reached the status worthy of finding their way to Frank’s Place are from many races, many religions and vary in alignment and loyalty, often times diametrically opposed to those at the next table.  There are dozens of such heroes and villains at Frank’s at any given time.

There are few rules here but they are always followed; always.  No fighting of any kind, although more than once Frank himself has had to step in to make sure this rule is not broken.  No magic, except for Frank that is, and this is enforced automatically by a powerful anti-magic dampening field that seems to infiltrate every corner of this adventurer’s resort.  Lastly and most important, no giving invitations without first receiving a blessing on the invite from Frank.  And that invitation is highly unlikely to be given.

Frank is nearly as big a mystery as his inn.  There is little question of his power when Frank enters the room.  He is a tall thin man with a bald head and deep set wrinkles that give evidence of his advanced age.  His robes glow lightly and seem to shimmer and change colors as they are gazed upon.  Frank’s most glaring attribute are his nearly glowing silver colored eyes.  Frank is rumored to be one of the two last silver-eyed mages and is caretaker of his magical Inn and all its patrons.  No one is quite certain what Frank’s real name is but it mutually agreed upon that it is certainly not Frank.

Satisfied that his cape was put out, Namblin the Gnome crossed the room to the bar nodding his head slightly at several people as he went.  The Gnome softly whistled as he walked, his attire was a mismatched combination of the rarest metal, like mythril chain, and cotton weaves that any pauper might wear.  Somehow it all worked for the little mystery however and just added to intrigue of the most successful ‘traveler’ ever known.  Travelers are those that maneuver through portals with amazing skill, finding the most hidden of places and greatest treasures.  For Namblin it has always been all about the uniqueness of the item however, actual treasure had little value for him other than its apparent need to indulge the finer things in life at places like Frank’s. 

The eight foot tall half-ogre bartender gave Namblin a warm smile and pulled a bottle from under the counter.  “Welcome back Namblin.  I assume you want your normal bottle.”  “Thanks Brux, I’m parched.  No matter how many times I run up against a red I can never get out easy.  I just wish they were more willing to trade, then I wouldn’t have to piss them off all the time.”  The Gnome poured a glass from the bottle of golden liquid, smiled at the glass and took a long steady draw.  “Ahhh, oh how I’ve missed you my darling”.

“Namblin, Vlad is looking for you and Frank would like to talk to you later when you have time.” 

“Ah, thanks, tell Frank I have something special for him”.  Tossing several platinum pieces on the bar top, Namblin turned and headed for the table with the Human and the Elf.

“Greetings Vlad”

“Hello Namblin.  I’d like you to meet Ruchneau, master of Tinya the silver arrow.”

“Mmm, well now that is something indeed.  Well met sir Ruchneau.”

“Well met Namblin and Rush will be just fine.”

“Ok, Rush it is.  So Vlad, did you get my message about the wizard Brovandian?”

“I did, thanks.  As a matter of fact he and Michael are already here.  They checked in a few hours ago.”

Ruchneau set his flute glass down and tapped his fingers gently on the table as he chimed in, “Vlad has filled me in on the quest at hand.  It seems that Leviticus has many enemies.  I do like this plan of joining forces to take him down once and for all.”

Namblin chuckled, “Humph, well that’s the stone in the creek at Pebble’s Crossing ain’t it?  Killing someone or something that is downright un-killable?  That silver-eyed is slippery and harder to trail than a fart in a hurricane.”

 Namblin’s crude humor seemingly lost on the elf, he pursued his train of thought, “I have heard that the leader of The Shadowmark may be joining us.  I’ve heard that his skill with a bow rivals my own”, the handsome elf said with a hint of doubt in his voice.

“Nope.  Not happening”, Namblin chirped.  “He and Kit both are up to their asses keeping King Torrin from destroying Mythgar.  It took a great deal of convincing from those two to get Bravo to come along“.

 “Too bad, I would have liked to fight alongside a brother of the bow.  I have firsthand knowledge of Kit.  Her family is held in high regard in Farfell.  The Church is lucky to have her and Mythgar twice so.”

 As the three companions, who would have appeared odd anywhere else, continued their conversation the entrance to the Inn shimmered once again.  Instinctively, Vladimir turned his head as Rush and Namblin continued on without regard to the new arrival.  At least until Vlad’s armored fist slammed the table.

“Son a of harpy!”, Vlad growled.

 A tall man who bore a striking resemblance to Frank strolled through the gate.  Evil wafted from the silver eyed human as he allowed a slight smile.  The smile revealed sharp fang shaped teeth, hinting at his true identity as he fixed his eyes on the human sitting with Namblin and the Elf whom he did not recognize.  The man did not hesitate as he confidently strolled across the room to the table where he most certainly was not welcome.

 “My old friend Vladimir”, the silver eyed one said with a feigned kindness.  “Namblin, it is good to see you and I cannot think of a better place to do so.”

 “Yep, back at you Levi”, Namblin cheerfully replied.  He didn’t seem bothered one bit by Leviticus, nor was he concerned about the fact that Vlad was obviously moments away from breaking every rule at Frank’s Place and likely getting himself killed in the process.

 “And, you”, Leviticus nodded towards the elf.  “I don’t believe we have met, I am Leviticus Greycloak.  Friend to those that would have me and oft misunderstood by those who won’t.”  His smile appeared to be quite genuine. 

“Ruchneau from the lands of Farfell”, Rush was polite but there was a hint of disgust in his voice.

 “Hmm, well so I do know of you after all and of course of Tinya”, a sudden hint of worry crossed Levi’s face and just quickly disappeared.

 “Well, I can see that you three are quite busy and I too have many matters to attend to.  As it happens and old ‘friend’ of mine has been chasing me about and I suppose I will endeavor to stay a step or two ahead of him for a bit longer”, Levi’s grin at Vlad could not be mistaken this time, it was meant to infuriate him and by all appearances the jab had hit its mark.  Vladimir was indeed chasing Leviticus and had been for many years.  No desire beyond ending his life for the betrayal of him and his friends many years gone by.  And now, with him mere feet away, there was precious little he could do and he knew it. 

 “Rot you worthless sack of dragon shit!  I will run a stake through your heart soon enough”, Vlad spat.

 “Ah, Vlad you always did have a way with words.  I must be off however; I believe my good brother awaits my arrival.  Good day Namblin and well met Ruchneau.”

 “See ya round Levi”, Namblin was quite enjoying the whole scene.  He is a Gnome after-all and a quite twisted one at that.

 “So,” Rush started quizzically, “That would be the one we hunt eh Vladimir?”

 “Yeah that’s him.  Not only a traitor to his fellow adventurers but a traitor to all the good races of Mythgar.”

 “Yes well, I’m honored to join the fight.  Tinya, I think will prove to be most useful against a vampiric demon. “

 “He doesn’t know yet but I found him”, Namblin made the comment in such an off-handed way you would have thought he was asking someone to pass the salt.

 “What!” Vlad nearly shouted.  “You know his home?  I suppose I should not be surprised.  Your tactics bewilder me Namblin but your results amaze me.”

 “Yeah well, thanks and all that, but you know what I want.  Once I take you to his lair I expect you will relinquish the ring.”

 “That was the agreement yes, but the ring is worthless.”

 “Now Lord Vladimir, I thought you knew me better than that.  Worthless is a state of mind.  One you humans tend to find yourselves in far too often.  A deal is a deal.”

 “Ok very good Nam.  When will you be prepared to take us?  Perhaps getting there while he is here would be an advantage.”

 “Nope.  I won’t be ready to go for at least a few days.  I’ve been gone too long from this place and I have certain…ah…things to attend to.”

 “If I didn’t need you Namblin I swear I would cut your head from your shoulders.”

 “Well Vladie if I weren’t ‘needed’ I’m afraid you would have to get in line for that privilege. “

 With that the Gnome rose gracefully from his seat and gave a slight bow to the two.  “Interesting fellow that Namblin”, Rucheanu said as the Gnome walked off.  “Interesting indeed”.