Ariss

Suspicion, fear, hate. Like a phoenix from the ashes these feelings arise from the ruins of the houses in Mistas, jumping from citizen to citizen till every stranger is eyed, every unknown face suspected. Who would do such, why should it be done at all, why now, why in such a way? Questions that burn as brightly as the fires on the night before. Appalled by such mood the gypsies hurry on, past Mistas and towards Lakeshire. Soldiers from the great town of the south, now patrolling the road and the area around Lakeshire, ensure a safe trip, yet they, too, carry fear and suspicion in their hearts.

Far away in the north, where such news have not yet been heard, the gypsies trade with the crafters of the Citadel, exchanging a load of the curious blue ore for new wheels for their wagons. Further west, a small caravan of packhorses and traders strikes through Alexandretta’s Bowl and reaches the Pass of Karnaugh – traders from the Citadel presenting themselves and offering their service.

So few, and yet so many. Not enough people to colonise and meet what dangers the land holds, yet too many to know them all, too many to find those with murder in their hearts, too many to find those that throw torches in the night. And like a fire that jumps and spreads, such is the nature of suspicion: that it will flow and grow till it consumes all and destroys what remains.


Game meeting tonight, 9pm GMT at the New Spiritwood Tavern (which is a lot of fun and highly recommended for all!)