"By the watery teats of Kan and the fiery balls of Gorruck when will
this urination of the gods end? Three
weeks since receiving the note, two weeks of travel…bah this trip better be
worth it." He stared at the crumpled parchment clutched in his right
hand; his torch light casting
odd shadows upon his face; upon the pitted sword at his side; upon the worn
leather hauberk that sat off centered on his person.
The note...aye the note, even in the dancing light, there
was no mistaking the three words scrawled upon its face…Come. Hope. Inn.
It wasn’t the letter and the words that bothered him…it was
the severed head that encased the note upon delivery that did…swallowing a
bit of bile that crept to the back of his throat, he continued towards the town
of Hope…each step being a little bit less sure as the step before…
The wheels of The Fold are moving forward… heed the calling;
gather your party…the days of PnP will soon be upon us.