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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Breakstone" data-source="post: 135492" data-attributes="member: 481">By Windsday afternoon, the caravan had reached Venix. The gates slowly opened, revealing a busy merchant town- and a dwarf with an axe.    “Falco!” Karak cried, almost hugging the dwarf if he weren’t so paranoid. “How did you get here? Where’s Gar?”    “I… don’t know how I got here…” Falco sighed. “And Gar… Gar didn’t make it…” Memories of Skyla slowly eating Gar plagued Falco’s mind, but he brushed them away like so many flies.    Jake and Karak quickly introduced Rykken to Falco. The two nodded at each other, a mutual greeting of warriors. The guard at the gate squinted at the dwarf and asked, “Excuse me, sir, are you Falco? I received this message from a carrier falcon to give to you.”    Falco quickly unraveled the scroll. It read:    “Dear Falco,    Please come to Grizzly City at the top of Bear Mountain immediately.    Dire events are taking place, and we need all the help we can get.        -Galapas”    When Karak asked about Galapas, Falco explained the dwarf cleric of the Bear Clan he had met in Alobar’s Adventuring Guild in Kalmet. “That right,” Falco remembered, “I’m now an official member!”    Jake Dragon patted Falco on the back. “Well, folks, I’m glad we’re still alive. Meet me at sundown at the Fox Den Tavern, and I’ll give you your shares of the loot.”    As Jake walked away, Karak leaned over and uncovered a scroll which displayed a number of sketches. “Falco, on the way over here, I was thinking: We need a battle wagon!”    Falco’s eyes gleamed over with dreams of battle. “Yeah…”    The next week and a half were spent in Venix. Falco and Karak poured over plans, making many visits to the lumber mill and smithy. Rykken had decided to travel with them to Bear Mountain. Being a restless man, he looked forward to the adventuring. Meanwhile he was stuck in Venix. Rykken frequented the Fox Den Tavern, in which he, Karak, and Falco had only received 20 gold. “Sorry!” Jake had apologized, “With all the goods that were stolen, this is all I can afford!”    In that very tavern Rykken met some strange folks. First there was Betty, the tender at the bar. She was an eyeful, but Rykken could see there was not much between her ears. Next was Barthuk, the retired adventurer. Whenever Rykken came near, Barthuk would start rambling about one of his old quests for glory. However, at the mention of orc slavers with skull masks, Rykken learned to listen and pick out facts. It turned out that long ago there was an inflation of orc slavers. They wore different color skull masks, each color standing for a different status. When Rykken inquired about the specific statuses, Barthus rambled off about an enemy priest he once fought.    But Rykken wasn’t through. He questioned the tavern’s bard (who then sang a song about Rykken fighting orc slavers), he asked the guards, and he prodded the traveling merchants. Soon he had found that most of the orc slavers (now nicknamed the Skull Slavers) wore White or Gray masks, leaders of small troupes wore Red masks, and high priests wore Purple masks. The great leaders were rumored to wear Midnight-Black skulls. As Rykken passed from the Fox Den Tavern to the Old Oak Lumber Mill, he noted Falco and Karak toting a huge crossbow, known as a ballista, over to a completed, two-story wagon.    “Is the aim correct?” Falco asked.    “Oh yeah!” Karak chuckled. “The Smithy and I tested it ourselves!”    Falco nodded and noticed Rykken. “Say, Rykken, we’ll be moving out by tonight. Hm… we need some horses, don’t we? Karak?”    Karak grimaced as he emptied his coin sack. A single gold piece fell out into the dust. “Don’t worry,” Rykken spoke, “Barthuk at the Fox Den Tavern used to have a steed who had a whole bunch of colts that are now all grown so he can get us two for free at a stable where the bard at the Tavern also happens to work (who knows me well).”    Stunned at the warrior’s bounty of knowledge, the two dwarves could only nod wordlessly. “Well… then…” Falco coughed. “Let’s do this!”    Before the townsfolk of Venix could say their town’s name ten times fast, a huge wagon led by two dark brown steeds was racing down the road up north towards Bear Mountain…And yet another battle scene awaits...</blockquote>

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