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Message: <blockquote data-quote="mps42" data-source="post: 1805206" data-attributes="member: 9571">A cold fog lies over the city of Melinar, reaching its’ chilly tendrils into homes, businesses, and the warmest of clothing. The city streets are teeming, though. Full of people going to and from shops and places of business, people arguing and fighting, the city watch with their rhythmically tramping feet, trying to keep it all from degenerating into a giant melee and people begging for food. Food, even the merest scrap, has almost become worth more than the coin used to buy it and only the very rich can afford it in large quantities. Those who can afford to buy food have taken to shopping with armed guards to protect them and anyone seen carrying it is likely to be the target of many the pickpocket or street thug. Even though the Generations war is, technically over, blood-red hatred seethes just below the surface and can, and often does, boil over at any point and time. Last, but not least, here in the early days of September, the seers are forcasting snow within the next fortnight. It is in this tableau of anger, hunger and misery that our story takes place. Newly crowned Prince Lenric has ascended the throne over his doddering father, King Thendon, now too feeble even to sit upright. As his first official act, he has called a ducal council to confer with the dukes and major landowners to see how their provinces fare and ask for a consensus on how to proceed. All but one has responded. That one is Duke Baerd, one of the former Kings strongest supporters. No one is sure why he has not responded. Seeing as how the city watch is strapped just keeping the peace, the Prince has offered 200 Silver Hawks, over 6 months regular wages for all but the most skilled, for anyone willing to go and investigate. Even more tempting, he has offered to feed those who return… You sit in the courtyard of Prince Lenrics’ keep, trying to keep warm over a meager fire. There are several pockets of men and women in the courtyard. All lured, just like you, by the promise of money and food. Your group, A small Halfling, A war veteran, A tall handsome man, A battle scarred northerner, A man in heavy armor, and an apparent wild man with his wolf companion, strangely, do not seem as strange or as desperate as some of the others. You’ve sat here for at least several hours, patiently waiting as group after group goes into the keep, presumably to meet the prince for any final instructions.*** Go ahead and introduce yourselves to one another, chat a bit, etc. while I continue to get my poop gathered, AKA Tag:group. ***</blockquote>

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