Eduwiges

Xandilif looked up, face splattered with blood and brain, still holding the unlucky Sorcerer by the head, and glared at the elf on horseback. "Who the feck are you?

Finchley peered around the corner and gasped aloud at the sight of an undead hand choking Cat. She looked for Lif and called out, "Lif! Is it them? The Unsealed?" A horrible sinking feeling grows in the pit of her stomach. If this is her fault...

After a picturesque ride through the Breeland countryside, Xandilif, Finchley and Eduwiges rode into Trestlebridge, locals dodging out of their way. Drawing her warhorse to a halt with a clatter, Xandilif looked around. "This place still looks like a burning latrine no one has buried yet. Ya think the 500th time the orcs had burned them out they would get the bright idea to move the town elsewhere or build a fecking wall?”

When I awoke in the Rusty Barge, tucked away in a corner no one could see. My head rang like the hammers of Dain’s smithy under the mountain. My eyes were gummed together and my mouth tasted of sawdust and grog. As strange taverns go this one wasn’t so bad, well, not as bad as some others I have woken in. Although the body by the front door and the blood on the bar left something to be desired but the tavern itself was homelike and warm, then I remembered.