| Your adventure starts... NOW! |
The dawn sun has just broken the horizon on another cold, grey--but thankfully not wet--autumn (aka fall) day.
The wider camp is just beginning to stir, but our stalwart group of misfit mercenaries are fed, packed, and ready to embark on what might be the broadest opportunity of their "sword for hire" careers.
A camp officer trudges into what's left of the firelight and quickly ascertains everyone's readiness. It's Helmund Frie, the squint-eyed, no-nonsense grey hair who has been charged with organising this errand.
"Listen up, pilchards," he growls, and--not wanting to somehow be cheated of this one chance--you heed him despite his unfriendly demeanor. "Won't pretend I approve of this fool's mission, or trust you lot to do it proper, but when the Signor orders it; we get it done. You hear me? We get it done. That's what yer paid for." He pauses to mete out meaningful glares to the less trustworthy types among you.
"We're sendin' you lot out there to find Dramorian's crew, or any sign of what happened to 'em. Don't go believin' any o' that cheap talk about gold and jewels, or thinkin' you'll be gettin' yer mitts on any of it. That's chump-talk, plain an' simple."
"You get out there east an' trawl that bog from north to south 'til you find Dram's lot. Half way thru you'll meet up with the Signor's other team, who'll be trawling south to north. When you find 'em, you bring 'em in. Word is the Lizards* are movin' west in numbers; there's already bin some serious fightin'. My guess is we're gonna need all the men we can get before long." he gives a disdainful grunt--clearly reckoning not all of you figure for men.
"Right, get going!" he dismisses you with a resigned wave, "I want you gone before the morning bell!" He turns, shaking his head, and trudges off into the camp, his heavy mail coat shinking with each step...
* There have been intermittent skirimishes throughout the season with the kobolds and lizardmen who inhabit the moorlands. These are not the purpose of the campaign proper--a regional squabble between Human Marquises--and are considered more of a nuisance than a genuine threat.
the Elf Medium (MV 12", AC 9, HD 1, hp 1/1, AL N) great cloak, lantern
; spells: color spray; scrolls: sleep, sleep, charm person
Hirelings: Georges; torch