Prelude #1

Sizzik, the rat, sat by the fire puffing on his long ornate pipe.

His camp was situated on the side of a mountain, overlooking a battlefield that had long been abandoned by soliders or the carrion birds that picked the dead clean. There was now just weeds, trees, rusty pieces of weapons and armor, and bones.

And silence.

Sizzik found old battlefields to be some of the most peaceful places to be, either out of reverence for the dead or fear of some ghostly visitation, most creatures stayed away from the battlefields, after they had been picked clean.

He held a puff of his pipe in and let it go slowly, staring ot across the field of old death. His eyes slowly closing in comfort as sleep crept up on him.

Then he heard a flutter. A bird was flying across the field. Possibly towards him.

Feeling no real danger, but always on his guard, with one hand he reached into one of his pouches and readied a pebble and placed it inside of his shortened sling. With a quick twitch of his elbow and the flick of his wrist, he could send a pebble flying at such a creature that would end it quickly.

As the bird neared, he could see it was a Blue Morning Dove, a bird not of this area that was beloved by the humans on the western coasts of the Chieflands. More importantly, he knew that this bird was the favorite messenger bird of his friend, Rikon, a fellow member of the Order of Rust.

The bird flew to the lip of the shallow cave that he occupied, landed, and then hopped a few times towards Sizzik. He reached into a pouch and scraped some bread crumbs from the bottom and threw them down for the bird. The thankful cretaure chirped and began eating. It was hungry.

When he had ate the last crumb worth eating, Sizzik gently reached down and held his hand palm up near the dove, and it hopped into his hand. Sizzik couild feel the small note tied around the doves foot and with his other hand reached over and untied it gently.

“Go in peace little one,” Sizzik said in his raspy thick South Holdtrien accent.

The blue morning dove took off and made for a tree that was at the bade of the mountain near the cave. Messenger doves often stayed near the recipient of their messages after their flights to rest and because they felt safe.

Sizzik unrolled the small note,

Hello old friend. I hope this note finds you well. The great migration has finally come through Reinguard and brought with it a host of Gnolls and Greenskins, that have destroyed the capital and are heading towards Holdtrien. Their leader is known well to us, Yeonne Gierte. He has captured and killed women and children from towns as he pillages and he must be stopped. I must stop him west of the Free Hills, or my home is also forfeit. If you are able, please meet me at the Gable Woods Inn on Winter March. I sent messages to Senqei, Rolph, and Fritk, and they are to meet me there as well.

Let the night come to you,

Rikon Taswel