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Message: <blockquote data-quote="PwrMnky" data-source="post: 4432364" data-attributes="member: 48096">I walked out of the mist. Without my donkey or cart. The man within the mist had offered help for my village. He said I must do him a favor. I felt such power from him that I even had I refused he would have taken anything from me. My death would not help. I walked out of the mist. Sword held at the ready and into a well developed towne. There was some inane celebration at hand. People wearing stupid colorful clothes and dancing in broad stupid strokes.  Good. When the undead come, they'll be the first to die.  The street were pinched with cobblestone, and the houses where tall. The tallest houses I've ever seen! And built almost on top of one another.  I walked out of the mist. And past the stupid revelers. Beyond the useless festival. The only reason I would enjoy this, is so that I could rob the distracted fools. But I am embolden to a greater cause. To find help for my entire village. To be the hero th-    ... - nevermind. That's stupid. Heroes die at the hands of someone who try to kill them. Yes. Heroes are assassinated. They never die of natural causes.  I walked out of the mist. And nearly bumped head first into the people who will save my village. The man in the mist was good to his word and I fell into the hands of bright, shiny, powerful, muscled, outgoing soldiers. Adventurers.  I walked out of the mist. I strode up to them. Then the local authorities blindsided me and arrested me without cause. Just that quickly. Cowards. Power hungry cowards. Xenophobic, power hungry cowards.  I walked out of the mist. I was roughly escorted into a jail cell.</blockquote>

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