Scrimshander was clapped on the shoulder as he sat in a tavern after performing his latest satirical epic “The Pirate and the Dragon” for a rowdy & particularly enthusiastic crowd.
Thursta was pulled aside gently into an alleyway on her way back from a night at the arena.
To both a badge of office is flashed from beneath a cloak – along with a clearly well used sword hilt. “The Lord Mayor would like to see you, Scion of Medyved. Your family have been advised”. Neither of you have made your lineage public knowledge.
You enter the town hall and are taken through to see the Lord Mayor, Ioseph Sellemius, with only a half hour wait, very unusual you’ve been told. As you enter he gestures for you to sit and begins speaking without preamble:
“Your house and my backers have come to an agreement. The Stolen Lands have become a thorn in all of our skin and it is about time it was claimed. Trade has slowed to a trickle from that direction over recent months and banditry is on the rise. Rumours of increased faerie activity and even of trolls abound. The Regent Surtova has granted me more legislative power than he imagined, more fool him, and I have the power to issue charters for the expansion of our borders should it be in the national interest – and in Rostland I decide the national interest. It would be preferable if the Greenbelt were claimed by an independent party aligned to our interests so as not to draw too much attention from the Regent. Your cousin was supposed to have arrived three days past to lead this expedition but alas there has been no sign as yet. If you can explore, thoroughly map and claim the area known as The Greenbelt then you will be handsomely rewarded.” The Mayor hands you each a piece of parchment with a charter of exploration. “A man named Oleg moved outside the borders of Rostland a year or so back and established a trading post. I hear it is the last bit of comfort you’ll find before hitting the wilderness, I’d recommend going there for information.” He throws you each a purse containing 100gp each “This ought to buy you some supplies and weapons and such. Good luck!”
Elsewhere, outside a village to the north a young man clutching a piece of parchment glanced furtively over his shoulder jogging through the woods. An angelic voice is whispering to him from the undergrowth. Wary of fey creatures and their charms he looks down to his belt and pulls out a lump of iron. When he looks up he is greeted by the sight of one of the most beautiful faces he has ever seen and, standing behind it, an attractive man…woman? He can’t tell. Then he notices it has but one eye. He screams as he looks down and sees chitinous arms reaching, reaching towards him. Krasue reaches down and takes the paper from his hands “What have we here?” they say.