>>6143731


Zamora reacts quickly, yanking a vial from her potion belt and hurling it toward the wyvern rider. Gris doesn’t hesitate, raising her hand to guide the potion mid-air with her telekinesis. You watch as the bomb curves unnaturally, zeroing in on its target.

The explosion is deafening, and the rider is engulfed in smoke and flames. When the air clears, his form hangs limply on the wyvern’s saddle, seemingly incapacitated or dead.

But the wyvern, driven by rage, doesn’t retreat. Instead, it lets out a furious screech and dives toward you. Before you can react, its talons close around your torso, yanking you off the ground. The wind howls in your ears as the creature climbs higher and higher, carrying you effortlessly into the sky.

Panic flares in your chest, but you force it down, gripping your sword with trembling hands. The rune etched into the blade flashes through your mind: *The Bringer of Night Light.* With a deep breath, you draw the blade, focusing all your energy on unlocking its power.

“I call upon the Bringer of Night Light!” you shout, your voice cutting through the chaos.

A surge of energy courses through you, and the sword begins to glow with an otherworldly pale blue light. The glow intensifies until it’s almost blinding, and then it happens—a brilliant explosion of light erupts from the blade, consuming the wyvern, the rider, and yourself in its dazzling brilliance.

>>6143741


You wake to the gentle rocking of the wagon. The world feels distant, your body heavy, but the voices of your companions pull you back to reality.

“You’re awake,” Gris says, leaning over you. Relief softens her expression. “How are you feeling?”

You sit up slowly, wincing as the events come rushing back. “The wyvern... what happened?”

Gris exchanges a glance with Caleb before replying. “You activated your sword’s magic. That flash—it blinded everyone, including the wyvern. It dropped you, and Caleb caught you before you hit the ground.”

You glance at Caleb, who nods, his expression unreadable. “You’re lucky,” he says. “But the wyvern wasn’t completely out. It managed to recover mid-fall and flew away, even with the rider hanging off its side.”

“So it’s still out there,” you mutter, your hand instinctively brushing the hilt of your sword.

Gris studies your face closely. “There’s something else. After the flash, a mark appeared on your face. It’s red, glowing faintly, like a scar or tattoo. It hasn’t faded.”

You touch your face, frowning. “What does that mean?”

Zamora steps forward, her gaze sharp and analytical. “It could be the sword’s magic. Drawing on your life force to activate such a powerful spell is no small thing. You’re pale—it must have taken a lot out of you.”

At that moment, Nabi lands carefully near the wagon, his massive frame moving with surprising gentleness. He nudges you with his snout, his worry evident.

“I’m okay, Nabi,” you reassure him. Then, remembering Gris’s need for his blood, you carefully extract a vial from his forepaw. Gris, however, is less patient. She drinks directly from the wound before you can stop her.

“Gris!” you exclaim, but she merely shrugs, unapologetic. After filling the vial with what’s left, you hand it to her, keeping Caleb at a distance. Ruth slaps him lightly and stuffs a clove of garlic into his mouth when his eyes linger too long on the blood.

By the time the sun rises, the horizon reveals a small village nestled amidst golden fields. It’s modest, with perhaps 300 residents, and seems peaceful enough. Yet you can’t shake the unease left by the wyvern’s escape.

What will you do?
> Enter the village and speak with the local authorities.
> Enter the village and look for work.
> Avoid the village altogether.
> Camp outside and send the bard to gather information.
> Send the kobold to sneak into the village for supplies.
> Write in.

>>6143742
> Camp outside and send the bard to gather information.
With such a motley crew, this seems like our best bet.

Glad to see a thread # 2, OP!

>>6143742
> Camp outside and send the bard to gather information.
Nice, made it to thread 2 good job

>>6143742
> Enter the village and speak with the local authorities
Seen any troublemaker with a Wyvern around?

>>6143759
>>6143784
>>6144181


You decide to set up camp just outside the village, far enough to avoid drawing unwanted attention but close enough to keep a watchful eye. After setting up a modest perimeter, you send the bard into the village with instructions to gather as much information as possible about the area, its people, and the threats they face.

The hours crawl by uneventfully as the group takes turns tending the fire and keeping watch. The night falls, and the crackle of the flames is the only sound accompanying the low rustle of wind through the nearby trees. Finally, the bard returns, his expression grim and weary.

“Bad news, everyone,” he begins, sliding down from the wagon. He brushes the dust from his cloak before continuing.

“The village has been under siege for weeks. Orcs have been harassing them relentlessly, and things are getting desperate. They sent a courier to a nearby city for aid, but the poor soul never made it.” He pauses, letting the weight of his words sink in.

“Wyverns are a common enough sight around here, but wyvern riders? That’s a different story. The townsfolk are understandably spooked. An old man I spoke with told me the orcish tribes up in the mountains have been known to tame wyverns now and then. If riders are appearing, it could mean the tribes are banding together—or worse, gearing up for a major conflict.”

The group exchanges uneasy glances as the bard continues.

“The mayor of the village has a simple request: if we’re headed to the next city, we should deliver a message for aid. The orcs are becoming too much for their militia to handle. Oh, and speaking of the militia, I saw a group of men training with spears early this morning. They’re preparing for the worst.”

“Won’t they be exhausted from all that training?” Gris asks, crossing her arms.

The bard shakes his head. “No, they have a routine. They train in the morning, spend the afternoons gathering lumber, and at night, they light fires and patrol. The orcs only ever attack after dark, so they’re trying to be as ready as they can.”

The group falls silent, the firelight casting flickering shadows on their faces. Finally, all eyes turn to you.

What’s your decision?
> Offer to help the village defend against the orcs.
> Stay in the village for a few days to rest and observe.
> Continue moving to the next city, promising to deliver the mayor’s request for aid.
> Camp outside the village for the night and decide later.
> Search for the orcish camp to launch a preemptive attack.
> Write in.

>>6144432
> Offer to help the village defend against the orcs

>Write in
The plan.

Thinking about it. Kinda wanna stay and kill some orcs. They already know about our group from the wyvern rider, and they've already killed the other messengers so they probably won't let us go easily.

Let Caleb and the Bard train their militia a bit in squad tactics, and surely there's a few hunters for archers. Make some wooden barricades between the houses to funnel the orcs combined with some traps using Zamora's potions. Our cute little kobold is probably good at traps?

Eve, Megara, and Ruth prepare some big magic to take down the wyvern. Possibly take a look at those scrolls for something useful since I don't think we managed to get a good look at them yet, I imagine Gris might be the best at reading them. Funny thought but if any fairies are around maybe Gris can ask for their help to send a message to the local Lord for aid.

As for Nabi who is our goodest boi I suppose just get him well fed. If the village has some suitable containers to hold acid we could use that as a weapon or incorporate them into some traps.

Consider a riding harness on Nabi for a sweet ass dragon rider vs wyvern rider midair battle? Though if he's not big enough yet oh well.

>>6144432
>Continue moving to the next city, promising to deliver the mayor’s request for aid.
Seems too big a deal for us to settle ourselves

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>6144705
>>6144740


1 - offer to help
2 - continue moving

>>6144822


After hearing the bard’s report, you gather the group around the campfire to discuss the village’s predicament. The flames flicker and cast long shadows as everyone listens intently.

“The village’s plight is dire,” you begin, your tone grave. “But this isn’t something we can handle alone. If we’re caught between wyverns and orcs without reinforcements, it’ll be our doom. Our best course is to move on and deliver the mayor’s request for aid to the next city. They need more fighters, more resources—things we simply don’t have.”

Gris looks up from where she’s sharpening her blade. “I don’t like leaving them to fend for themselves, but you’re right. This is way bigger than us. What good would we be to anyone if we got ourselves killed trying to play heroes?”

Zamora nods quietly, her gaze distant. “A calculated retreat isn’t cowardice. It’s survival. I’ve learned that over decades of being hunted.”

The bard chimes in, his tone light but with an undercurrent of seriousness. “I’ll admit, I don’t relish the idea of facing a bunch of angry orcs. But I’ll be sure to make that request for aid sound as urgent as possible when we get to the city. I have a way with words, after all.”

Caleb, leaning on his spear, grunts. “So we’re running. Fine by me. Better to keep moving. But don’t think the road will be safe. Orcs don’t just vanish into thin air.”

The group agrees to break camp at first light, hoping to put distance between themselves and the embattled village before nightfall.

Rolled 2 (1d10)

>>6144830
The morning is quiet as you pack up your belongings and set out. The road stretches ahead, damp and muddy from the recent rains. As the wagon creaks along, the tension among the group is palpable. Nabi flies overhead, his shadow flickering over the treetops, keeping watch.

“Do you think the next city will even care?” Gris asks, breaking the silence. “I mean, some of these places barely lift a finger to help their neighbors.”

“We’ll make them care,” the bard replies, twirling his lute dramatically. “If I have to spin a tale of orc hordes and wyvern riders that shakes their very bones, so be it.”

“Let’s hope they listen to stories,” you say, glancing at the horizon. “For now, let’s focus on getting there in one piece. Caleb, keep an eye on the flanks. Zamora, stay alert for anything unusual—tracks, sounds, anything that might mean trouble.”

The day passes uneventfully, but as the sun begins its descent, the forest grows eerily quiet. Nabi swoops low and circles the wagon, letting out a guttural growl.

“Something’s not right,” Caleb mutters, tightening his grip on his weapon.

You hold up a hand to halt the wagon. “Everyone stay sharp. Gris, be ready. Zamora, have any potions that might help in a fight?”

Zamora quickly rummages through her belt. “I’ve got one more, it does—well, let’s just say it’ll make anything it touches regret being alive.”

You nod, scanning the treeline. “Let’s see what fate has in store for us.”

Rolling to see if you’re harassed by orcs or encounter something else...
1-2- Small patrol
3-4- Large patrol
5-6- War party
7-9 - Not harassed
10 - Unexpected encounter

>>6144831


The leader of the orc patrol steps forward, a hulking brute with green-gray skin and a jagged scar running down one side of his face. His crude, rusted sword gleams in the fading sunlight, and his bloodshot eyes scan your group with disdain.

“What in the name of Gruumsh is this?” he sneers, his guttural voice loud and mocking. “A ragtag bunch of heroes out for glory? Pah! You’ve wandered into the wrong part of the woods, little lambs.”

He gestures to one of his companions—a shorter orc with a horn slung around his neck. “Sound the alarm! Let’s see if our brothers want to join the fun.”

The orc with the horn raises it to his lips and blows a deep, resonant note that reverberates through the forest.

Gris growls, hand on her weapon. “Damn it! They’re calling reinforcements. We need to stop them before this gets out of hand.”

The orc leader smirks, clearly enjoying himself. “Did you come to liberate the village? Hah! You think you can take us all on?” He steps closer, pointing his blade at you. “Well, I’ll let you go this time, but you better run fast. Our wolf riders will be on you in no time.”

As if on cue, another horn sounds in the distance, its haunting call echoing ominously through the trees.

“That’s not far,” Caleb mutters, gripping his spear tightly. “They’ll be here in minutes if we don’t act fast.”

“Enough talking!” barks the leader. “Get them!”

The orcs tense, their weapons ready, while the two archers in the back notch arrows and take aim.

There are eight orcs:
- Two archers standing near the rear, bows drawn.
- Five sword-wielders, all burly and menacing, scattered in front.
- The horn-blower, standing slightly behind the leader, prepares to sound the call again.

You hear faint growls from the direction of the distant horn—likely the wolves the leader was boasting about.

“Orders?” Gris hisses, her blade half-drawn.

Zamora tugs a vial from her potion belt. “I have a little something... if we want to send a message.”

“What’s the plan?” asks the bard, clutching his lute tightly. “Because if it’s run, I’d like to suggest we start now.”

> Wipe out the orc patrol: Engage the group directly, risking reinforcements but clearing the immediate threat.
> Kill the orc sounding the horn: Focus on silencing the alarm to delay reinforcements.
> Take out the archers first: Neutralize their ranged threat before engaging the rest.
> Focus on the swordsmen: Reduce the number of melee fighters first.
> Ignore the patrol and move on: Attempt to outrun them, hoping the wolf riders don’t catch up.
> Write in

>>6144836
> Kill the orc sounding the horn: Focus on silencing the alarm to delay reinforcements.

>>6144836
> Kill the orc sounding the horn: Focus on silencing the alarm to delay reinforcements

>>6144852
>>6144862


You move as one, the urgency of silencing the orc’s alarm driving you forward. Caleb lunges first, spear glinting in the dim light as he drives it into the orc with the horn. The brute’s eyes widen in shock as the horn slips from his lifeless fingers, the sound dying in his throat.

Gris snarls, her blade flashing as she cuts down an orc who dares step too close. The rest of the patrol halts mid-charge, their bravado vanishing as they see your party cutting through their leader’s ranks with terrifying efficiency.

“They’re... they’re monsters!” one of the orcs stammers before turning tail and fleeing.

The others quickly follow suit, weapons clattering to the ground as they scramble to escape.

“Yeah, run!” Gris shouts after them, still gripping her bloodied sword. “Cowards!”

“Let them go,” you say, wiping sweat from your brow. “We’ve sent our message. Let’s move before they regroup.”

“Damn right,” Caleb mutters. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

As your group prepares to move, a shadow falls over you. Looking up, you see Nabi descending gracefully from the sky. His eyes scan the scene, and he lands nearby with a low rumble.

The kobold, ever the opportunist, leaps from the wagon and scurries to the fallen orc, snatching the alarm horn.

Before anyone can object, Nabi grips the kobold gently but firmly in his massive claw. With a powerful beat of his wings, he soars into the sky, carrying the kobold with him.

“What the—!” Gris exclaims.

From above, the kobold begins gleefully blowing the orc’s horn at random intervals, the eerie notes echoing across the forest.

Caleb smirks. “Now that should delay them. Nice touch, Nabi.”

You take your wagon through the night, only stopping to rest when the first rays of dawn begin to filter through the trees.

“Alright, folks,” you say, your voice heavy with exhaustion. “We’ll rest a while, then push on. We’ve got to reach that city.”

The party collapses into a makeshift camp, too tired to do more than settle into a light sleep.

Hours later, Nabi returns, descending once again. This time, he releases the kobold, who tumbles to the ground unharmed, clutching the horn like a prized treasure. Nabi lets out a soft growl, as if satisfied with the outcome, before soaring away into the clouds.

>>6144894

“Welcome back, buddy,” Gris says, patting the kobold’s head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

The kobold just grins, baring its teeth.

After a couple more days of travel, the dense forest gives way to open fields. Ahead, you finally spot the city: a towering bastion of stone and steel, nestled between rolling hills and a sparkling river.

The city walls rise high, their surface reinforced with metal plating to withstand siege weapons. Guard towers are spaced evenly along the perimeter, each manned by vigilant sentries. The city gates—massive slabs of oak bound with iron—stand open, allowing a steady stream of travelers, merchants, and farmers to come and go.

Within, the skyline is dominated by a tall, spiral-shaped tower of white stone that reflects the sunlight like a beacon. Beneath it, the bustling city streets are alive with activity. Vendors hawk their wares from colorful stalls, while street performers entertain clusters of onlookers.

The smell of fresh bread and roasted meat wafts through the air, mingling with the faint tang of coal smoke from the forges. On the far side of the city, the river glitters, its surface dotted with boats ferrying goods and passengers.

“Now that’s a city,” says Gris, her voice filled with awe.

“And one that seems well-guarded,” Caleb adds. “Let’s hope they’ll take that mayor’s message seriously.”

You glance at your companions, weary but determined. “Alright, everyone. Let’s head in. We’ve got work to do.”

>>6144895


As your party approaches the towering gates, a guard clad in polished chainmail steps forward. His tabard, emblazoned with the city’s sigil—a golden phoenix rising above a river—marks him as a member of the Civic Sentinels, the city’s elite guard.

“State your purpose in Corvalis, travelers,” he demands, his voice firm but not unkind.

You explain your mission to deliver the mayor’s request for aid, and after some deliberation, the guard nods.

“You’re free to enter, but be warned: Corvalis has laws, and we enforce them strictly. Here, take this.”

He hands you a map of the city and a neatly folded parchment detailing the laws and customs. As you glance at the map, the layout of Corvalis unfolds before you, revealing a city of intricate districts, each with its own unique flavor and purpose:
1. The Spire District
Dominated by the Spire of Kings, this district is the political heart of Corvalis.
- Landmarks: The Spire of Kings, Council Hall, and the Grand Archive.
- Notable Inhabitants: Nobles, bureaucrats, and scholars.
- Laws: Strict curfews after dark; only those with permits can approach the Spire.
2. The River Market
A bustling hub of commerce situated along the riverbank.
- Landmarks: The Merchant Plaza, the Fishmongers’ Wharf, and the Floating Bazaar.
- Notable Inhabitants: Traders, fishermen, and artisans.
- Laws: Haggling is allowed but cheating is punished harshly. No weapons are permitted in the market.
3. The Iron Quarter
The industrial powerhouse of the city, filled with forges and workshops.
- Landmarks: The Black Anvil Foundry and the Steamworks Depot.
- Notable Inhabitants: Blacksmiths, engineers, and laborers.
- Laws: No unauthorized magic or fire spells; noise restrictions apply after sundown.
4. The Common Gardens
A residential area with parks and communal spaces, mostly for the working class.
- Landmarks: The People’s Park and the Shrine of the Open Sky.
- Notable Inhabitants: Farmers, merchants, and everyday citizens.
- Laws: Public drunkenness is fined, and disturbing the peace is not tolerated.
5. The Velvet Steps
The city’s entertainment district, known for its theaters, taverns, and brothels.
- Landmarks: The Velvet Theater, the Golden Harp Tavern, and the Moonlit Courtesan.
- Notable Inhabitants: Performers, bards, and night workers.
- Laws: Fights are strictly forbidden; all establishments pay a tax to the city.

>>6144896

6. The Mage’s Enclave
A secluded district where magic is studied and regulated.
- Landmarks: The Arcane Collegium and the Celestial Observatory.
- Notable Inhabitants: Mages, alchemists, and apprentices.
- Laws: Unauthorized magic is forbidden, and non-mages must have permission to enter.
7. The Stone Bastion
A heavily fortified district housing the city’s military and its prison.
- Landmarks: The Bastion Keep and the Hall of Blades.
- Notable Inhabitants: Soldiers, guards, and prisoners.
- Laws: Unauthorized entry is punishable by imprisonment; only soldiers and officials are allowed to carry weapons openly.
8. The Sunset Heights
An affluent district perched on a hill, offering stunning views of the city.
- Landmarks: The Golden Lantern Inn and the Serene Bathhouses.
- Notable Inhabitants: Wealthy merchants, retired adventurers, and aristocrats.
- Laws: Trespassing is a serious crime; beggars are not allowed in this district.
9. The Shadow Warren
A labyrinthine network of alleys and tunnels, known for its black markets.
- Landmarks: The Broken Coin Tavern and the Silent Market.
- Notable Inhabitants: Rogues, smugglers, and outcasts.
- Laws: The guard rarely ventures here, but theft and murder are still punishable by execution if caught.
10. The Gate District
The entryway to the city, bustling with newcomers and traders.
- Landmarks: The Guardhouse, Traveler’s Rest Inn, and the Caravan Square.
- Notable Inhabitants: Merchants, travelers, and city guards.
- Laws: All visitors must register their names and goods upon entry; suspicious individuals are subject to questioning.

>>6144897


The gates of Corvalis loomed ahead, and as your party approached, a second burly guard stepped forward, clutching a leather-bound ledger. His face was carved into a permanent scowl, eyes sweeping over your group with measured suspicion.

“Halt! Names and professions for the city records. No exceptions. If you don’t have a role to play in the city, you’ll be marked as troublemakers—or worse.” His glare was particularly sharp, daring anyone to test him.

The bard, ever eager, stepped forward first, bowing theatrically. “Salen, bard extraordinaire! I weave tales, strum hearts, and lift spirits. At your service.”

The guard’s expression didn’t change as he jotted down the name. “Salen. Bard. Fine. Next.”

Gris strode up with her usual blunt confidence. “Gris. Mercenary.”

The guard raised an eyebrow, his quill hesitating. “Mercenary, huh? Who’s your employer?”

Gris crossed her arms. “Whoever pays. You looking to hire, or just being nosy?”

The guard grunted but scribbled “Mercenary” into the ledger, his lips twitching in what might have been amusement. “Next.”

Caleb stepped forward. “Caleb. Retired soldier.”

The guard’s eyes narrowed. “Retired, huh? Well, just keep whatever got you retired away from *my* city.”

Zamora followed, her hood low over her face. “Zamora. Apothecary.”

The guard paused, glancing at her belt full of potions. “An apothecary, eh? You better not be selling poison. We’ll know if you are.”

Zamora’s voice was smooth, her tone unshaken. “Only remedies, I assure you.”

The guard moved his gaze to the kobold. He stood stock still, wide-eyed and silent.

“What about this one? Does it speak, or is it just tagging along?”

The kobold looked at you, his panic plain.

You stepped in quickly. “Quicktail. Assistant. Handles logistics, carries supplies, sets up camp. He’s essential to our group.”

The guard scoffed, looking the kobold up and down. “An ‘assistant,’ huh? Sounds suspicious. If it doesn’t talk, it’s probably a thief. Mark my words, if this one causes trouble—”

“He won’t,” you interrupted firmly. “He’s harmless.”

The guard snorted but finally scribbled “Quicktail. Assistant” into the ledger.

Then his eyes landed on you. “And you? Leader of this little band? Name and profession.”

>>6144898

With Nabi nowhere nearby, you had to think fast. “Eve. Courier.”

“Courier?” The guard arched a skeptical brow.

“Yes. I deliver goods and messages across dangerous territory. That’s why I’ve got them with me,” you said, motioning to the others. “For protection. And to get the job done.”

He studied you for a moment, his quill hovering, before finally nodding. “Fine. Eve. Courier. If you’ve got deliveries to make, don’t cause delays or trouble while you’re here.”

As the guard continues to jot down the names and professions of the group, Ruth and Megara exchange a quick glance. With a shared look of mischief, they step forward together.

"We’re entertainers," Ruth declares with a confident smile, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Yes," Megara adds, twirling her staff a bit for flair. "We specialize in performances, songs, and a bit of magic here and there to spice things up."

The guard raises an eyebrow, clearly unsure what to make of their answers. "Entertainers, huh?" he grumbles, but his expression softens slightly as he looks them both up and down, sensing no immediate trouble. "Well, as long as you don’t cause a ruckus in the city, I suppose that’s fine. Just remember, we don’t take kindly to performances that disturb the peace."

"We’ll be on our best behavior," Ruth says with a wink, nudging Megara. "You won’t even know we’re here. Promise."

Megara simply nods with a grin. "We’ll keep the noise to a minimum. Maybe a little song here and there, but nothing too rowdy."

The guard seems to think for a moment before giving a shrug. "Alright, just remember the laws of the Velvet Steps if you decide to entertain there. Fights are strictly forbidden, and you’ll need to pay the entertainment tax."

"Understood," Ruth says with a mock salute, adding, "But I’m sure we’ll find the perfect spot to perform."

The guard lets out a sigh, scribbling down their professions before turning to the others.

With that, he snapped the ledger shut. “Welcome to Corvalis. Follow the laws, keep your heads down, and don’t let me regret letting you in. Move along.”

As the gates creaked open, the sprawling city of Corvalis came into view, its districts bustling with activity. The guard stood to the side, his eyes lingering on your group until you were well out of earshot.

As you pass under the gate, the sprawling city opens up before you, its districts teeming with life and activity. Your party exchanges glances, taking in the daunting complexity of the metropolis.

“Where to first?” Gris asks, her eyes scanning the map.

>>6144899
> The Spire District: While the laws are strict and entrance is limited, you might try your luck by delivering a message or petition to one of the scholars or bureaucrats. If you’re lucky, you could get hired as an assistant or errand runner.
> The River Market: If you have goods or services to offer, this is the perfect place to try your hand at haggling and selling. You could also work as a courier for the traders or offer security to merchants who deal with high-value items.
> The Iron Quarter: Work here as a laborer or apprentice in one of the many workshops, or offer your services as muscle to help transport heavy goods. If you have a knack for repairs, you could also assist in maintaining the machinery and tools.
> The Common Gardens: Help the local residents with odd jobs like gardening, construction, or deliveries. You may also be able to find work as a town guard or offer protection services to those who live in the area.
> The Velvet Steps: The bard can perform in various taverns, inns, or theaters, earning tips and possibly building a fanbase. If you’re looking for something less glamorous, consider becoming a bouncer or bodyguard for one of the establishments.
> The Mage’s Enclave: If you have any magical aptitude or alchemical knowledge, you might be able to find work as an apprentice or assistant to one of the many mages or alchemists. If not, you could offer your protection services to the magic users in exchange for access to rare magical items or knowledge.
> The Stone Bastion: While it’s unlikely you’ll be able to simply wander in, if you’ve come to the city on a mission, you could deliver the mayor’s request for aid to the military officials. Alternatively, you could offer your services as mercenaries or scouts to help the military deal with threats outside the city walls.
> The Sunset Heights: You could try to sell your services to the wealthy residents or work as a personal guard or servant. For those less inclined to polite work, this area could also be a great place to seek out high-profile targets for theft or extortion.
> The Shadow Warren: The shady atmosphere makes this a prime place to find work as a thief, smuggler, or information broker. If you're skilled in the arts of subterfuge, you might also be able to gain favor with the underworld and rise through the ranks.
> The Gate District: If you’re new to the city, this is the perfect place to register and set up. You could also offer your services as a guide or interpreter for other travelers. If you’re feeling more ambitious, this is also where you can find work as a guard or hireling for caravan protection.
> The Sewers: a massive city like this one must have an entire underground city for sewers, you could delve into this underworld and try to make a living there.
> Write in

>>6144901
> The Stone Bastion: While it’s unlikely you’ll be able to simply wander in, if you’ve come to the city on a mission, you could deliver the mayor’s request for aid to the military officials. Alternatively, you could offer your services as mercenaries or scouts to help the military deal with threats outside the city walls.
We have a message to deliver, and military guys seem like they'd be the ones to jump on this kind of news.

>>6144901
> The Stone Bastion: While it’s unlikely you’ll be able to simply wander in, if you’ve come to the city on a mission, you could deliver the mayor’s request for aid to the military officials. Alternatively, you could offer your services as mercenaries or scouts to help the military deal with threats outside the city walls

Sounds about right since we don't have a permit for the Spire. Just gotta hide the weapons or put them away for safe keeping.

>>6144901
> The Stone Bastion: While it’s unlikely you’ll be able to simply wander in, if you’ve come to the city on a mission, you could deliver the mayor’s request for aid to the military officials. Alternatively, you could offer your services as mercenaries or scouts to help the military deal with threats outside the city walls.
We don’t have to all go, we can leave our weapons with Ruth and Megara

>>6144910
>>6144918
>>6145190


After leaving your weapons with Ruth and Megara, you watch them guide the wagon away toward the Velvet Steps. Ruth waves cheerfully. "Find us at the Velvet Steps! We’ll get an inn, stash the gear, and maybe earn some coin with a performance."

Megara adds, "Don't get arrested. Or killed. Either would ruin our plans."

With their laughter fading into the distance, you make your way toward the imposing gates of the **Stone Bastion**, the city’s military district. The air grows heavier as you approach, thick with the clang of metal and the bark of orders. At the gates, a stoic soldier in polished armor steps forward to block your path. His gaze is sharp and unwavering.

“Halt. State your business in the Bastion,” he demands, hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

You explain with measured urgency, “We bear a request for aid from the mayor of a nearby village. They are under threat from orcish raiders.”

The soldier snorts, his skepticism clear. “Villages around here are *always* whining for help. Bandits, wild animals, a bit of bad weather—they come crying to us for everything.”

Before you can respond, the bard steps in smoothly. “This isn’t just a raid. It’s a full-blown *invasion*. Orcish war bands, wolf riders, and even wyvern riders. They’ve already overwhelmed the messengers sent to warn you.”

The soldier’s face shifts from indifference to alarm. "Wyverns?" he mutters, and then straightens his posture. “Follow me.”

He leads you into the bustling heart of the Bastion. The smell of sweat and iron fills the air, recruits drilling in tight formations, their movements punctuated by sharp shouts from instructors. You’re handed white sashes, which the soldier explains are visitor identification.

“Don’t lose these,” he says curtly. “No sash, no passage.”

He then escorts you through the labyrinthine corridors to the officer’s quarters. Stopping outside an imposing oak door, he raps sharply. A gruff voice calls from within.

“Come in. I like my bad news firsthand.”

Inside, a man in his forties, his uniform decorated with the insignia of a lieutenant, looks up from a desk littered with maps and reports. His eyes narrow as he sizes you up.

“Well? What’s so urgent?”

>>6145284
The bard steps forward with a practiced flourish, his voice steady yet tinged with urgency. He begins weaving the tale with dramatic precision, his words painting vivid pictures for the lieutenant.

"Lieutenant, this is no ordinary plea for help," he says, his voice commanding the room's attention. "The village to the east is not merely raided—it is *besieged*. Orcs, emboldened and unnervingly organized, have taken to the field with more than crude weapons and brute strength. They have riders mounted on wolves, swift and merciless, and wyverns screeching across the skies. They strike with precision and ferocity, the likes of which I've never seen."

The bard pauses for effect, letting the weight of his words sink in. Then, leaning slightly forward, he continues, “The mayor sent messengers days ago. None made it. The orcs intercepted them, silencing their pleas before they could reach you. And their leader—oh, their leader—isn’t just some brutish chieftain. He commands discipline. Strategy. This is no rabble.”

He gestures to the kobold, who has been quietly clutching the orcish horn with both claws. At the bard’s cue, the kobold hesitates briefly, glancing around nervously, before stepping forward and holding the object out toward the lieutenant. The horn is worn but intimidating, carved with jagged patterns and adorned with crude metal bands. The lieutenant takes it, his hands steady but his face tense.

“This,” the bard continues, his voice low and somber, “was sounded by their patrols. It called to others—wolf riders, we believe. They responded swiftly, like wolves to a kill. This was no chaotic call. It was deliberate, calculated.”

The lieutenant turns the horn over in his hands, inspecting its rugged craftsmanship. His expression hardens, his jaw tightening. The deep lines on his face grow sharper as he studies the relic of the orcish war effort.

“This isn’t just a raid,” he mutters, half to himself, the grim reality dawning on him. “They’re preparing for something bigger.”

>>6145285


He places the horn on his desk with a heavy thud, as though its weight matched the gravity of the news. Looking back at you, his voice grows firm. “If they’ve rallied this kind of force, they’re a threat to more than just the villages. They’re testing our borders, gauging our defenses.”

His sharp gaze shifts between you all, and the room feels heavier with the implications of your story. The silence that follows is thick, broken only by the faint sound of drills echoing from outside the window.

The officer rises to his feet, his jaw set. “I’ll alert my superiors immediately. If these orcs are bold enough to field wyvern riders, they’re a threat to more than just the villages. I’ll volunteer to lead a detachment east myself, though it is unclear whether they will send me or someone else. You’ve done well bringing this to our attention. The city owes you a debt of thanks.”

He salutes briskly. “I am Lieutenant Dreyfus. If you need anything while in the Bastion, tell the guards my name. They’ll see you through.”

The room falls silent, and the lieutenant’s piercing gaze shifts back to you.

> Thank him, leave the Bastion and go elsewhere (choose).
> Tell him we are newcomers in town looking for jobs.
> Ask if we could enlist in the army.
> Demand payment for our troubles.
> Offer to join the war effort.
> Write in.