Post by Corey the GM on Apr 6, 2016 18:16:33 GMT -5
The hour of nine had past and the hand now joined with ten. Your group found itself in the Greenest Fort, a small fort by fort standards but large enough to host a majority of the townsfolk. Eventually you found your way through the crowd that you had entered with, which was the last crowd that was able to enter before the gates had been shut. You were likely confused, confused at where you were and confused at why a dragon cult was attacking this small town of Greenest. You kept asking yourself where Greenest was, but no one knew what Justicor was nor did they know the Kingdom of Strom. The village folk must of been illiterate.
If you took the time to head up the stairs near the walls to look over, you would see that the city had many patrols cross the streets. Screams, cries and mad laughter echoed from the town as the cult pillaged the town for any treasures they could find. Many fires dotted the town, but there wasn't many buildings actually burning. More like hay piles and wagons and whatever else was laying around.
Eventually a messenger found you and asked that you report to the Castellan, Escobert the Red. You could oblige the messenger or seek out other trouble. There was also the Governor Nighthill that you could seek out.
If you took the time to head up the stairs near the walls to look over, you would see that the city had many patrols cross the streets. Screams, cries and mad laughter echoed from the town as the cult pillaged the town for any treasures they could find. Many fires dotted the town, but there wasn't many buildings actually burning. More like hay piles and wagons and whatever else was laying around.
Eventually a messenger found you and asked that you report to the Castellan, Escobert the Red. You could oblige the messenger or seek out other trouble. There was also the Governor Nighthill that you could seek out.
