Brazen Wolfe Tabletop

From the Swamp they come

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The room where the party had managed to bargain to stay in was a store room for the general store. The tavern had been refusing visitors after the last people to stay in Ferklend had burned down the previous tavern. But the merchant they were staying with seemed nice enough and had spare room until the stock from a delivery arrived in the coming days which would fill the room again.

While they were in the town the first thing that came to view was the large wooden walls and barricades that enclosed the town. The guards only let the party through because they recognised Carmine and Jon but warned the party against staying too long. The town itself was mainly houses, a single store that backed onto a similarly protected dock and pier, a tavern and a central hall that looked more barracks than council building.

The guards of the town were hardy, tough and unkind to say the least. But the people inside the city were just the same. Talking to a few, those willing to spend some time talking to the adventurers, it turns out the town is very old, or it was. Based on ruins that they repaired and modified to suit. However over the past few years the volume of undead has increased and they had to rebuild due to damage, fire and the like. The barricades were also recent as one of their own, a man called Rike, accidently set fire to them in his attempt to escape a particularly fast undead crocodile.

The same story was told by all the villagers. The undead attacks were getting more frequent with a sudden increase in volume happening about a week and a half ago. And the other thing that was clear was, most of them didn’t like the man called Rike.

At this point the voice carried over the crowd. The voice was strong and determined, spurred onwards by hope and desperation. Approaching the source of the voice a man was revealed to be standing on the steps to the town hall. “The undead are coming in a wave that none have seen before. This one the walls won’t hold. We must flee now. Flee! We are doomed if we stay as the salvation of Ferklend has not appeared. It’s all there in the ruins outside of the town in the swamp. Why can’t you see? The heralds of the end appear, the undead arise and only the power of the heralds can push back the undead tide…”

“Where are these heralds huh?” Called one rather butch looking woman who carried a basket of root vegetables. “Get out of here Rike. No one wants to hear your garbage any more!” she called, many others echoed her thoughts.

Rike looked around helplessly before his eyes fell upon the adventurers. “Warriors from afar, wielders of magic and steel. Just as the ruins foretold,” he began as his knees wobbled. “I was right.. The ruins .. Oh gods.. That means…” an unholy roar came from the south. Those gathered around Rike looked to the party and then to the south, where the swamp lay. “It’s too late to run…” Rike said as he crumbled to his knees, despair taking over. “The ruins foretold and the well is open…”

Thoughts

A bit of a fun one tonight. A fight at the gates, on the ramparts and outside of them if (when) they fall this week. But this is just part 1 as part 2 see’s the party venture forth to the well of souls. If they survive what I have planned that is.

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