Since the first day I acted as Dungeon Master (DM), I knew I had found a calling. I told a simple story where a group of travelers rested in a cave for the night when suddenly a monstrous hand came from a crack in the wall and abducted one of our party members. What followed was a grand and dangerous adventure to rescue him that had my friends sweating with excitement. As the night  grew late, they called their parents and begged for permission to stay until it was finished, and at four a.m., we finally completed one of the funnest adventures in memory. After that day, I lost all interest in playing D&D... and gained an undying passion for creating it. Seven years later, I am still your humble DM, refining my skill as a storyteller over the long years. This new post-series will give you an inside look behind the creative process involved with our adventures and lore. Come learn how I create worlds!

I will show you how the names for our landscapes are formed and the origins behind them. Recently we established the game universe of Tel'Gia. The name "Tel'Gia" I formed from two parts; 'Tel' is derived from 'Tellus', the female earth goddess in ancient roman mythology, and 'Gia' is derived from her greek mythological counterpart, 'Gaia'. Collaged together, they form an appropriate and unique synonym for Earth in our original world design.

Tel'Gia is divided into six continents. The first continent to exist was Cathyria, created five years ago as the setting for our first campaign; the name 'Cathyria', to my knowledge, is entirely genuine and a top-of-the-head creation. That's only fitting, for this name represents the principal originality of our world.

Second came the Isles of Mercia, invented two years ago and destined as the setting for future campaigns, a dream that's finally come to fruition. 'Mercia' was the name of a kingdom in the Anglo-Saxon Heptarchy between 600 and 900 A.D., which I selected for its linguistic familiarity and character. Since Cathyria was environmentally constricted, set in the mountains and forest valleys, I was inclined to cast our next adventure in an archipelago where climate and culture could widely vary between isles, permitting greater creative freedom.

Shan-tai is a continent modeled after southeast asia. The word 'Shan' itself likely originated from 'Shen-si', the name of a southern Chinese province, and refers to an old asiatic tribe that migrated into the Indo-Chinese Peninsula between 450-1000 A.D.; the 'Shan' people then mixed with the ancient Mon, Khmer, and Malay civilizations. Overtime, 'Shan' changed to 'Siam' which became the name for their ethnic group, i.e. the Siamese. This was replaced in the early 1900's with 'Tai' (or 'Thai') meaning "free people." 'Shan-tai' is thus a union of old and modern terms for the same asiatic tribe in contemporary southeast asia.

Fourth, I created the continent of Bishapur, whose culture will be based on the historic Achaemenid Empire, blending Babylonian and Persian qualities. 'Bishapur' was the name of an ancient town in southwest Iran, built after the Sassanids pushed out the Romans in 226 A.D.; that town was eventually destroyed around the 11th century, but the name survives in our fantasy world.

Kaudos, the fifth continent, was another original creation and has no known root-word. Like 'Cathyria', it originated from the recesses of my mind, permeated by fantasy terminology over the many years.

The final continent was Druhak, a particularly interesting place I intend to expound on in the future. The word 'Druhak' is a loose cognate of 'Dothraki', the name of a culture in the "Game of Thrones" book & television series; it is a small homage to their influence on me and modern fantasy.

This concludes an inside look of how I create names for the various lands and places we encounter in our adventures. If you feel inspired to create your own nation or land, please do so! Cody Krueger is already credited with the creation of "Vaterland", a kingdom on the Isle of Kabariya, whose name means 'fatherland' in several west germanic languages. In Tel'Gia, everyone has the ability to turn their creative dreams into reality.



For decades, I have traveled the world, studying different cultures and ancient texts. Throughout my research, I've encountered a word that shows up in the damndest places.

In old myths told by the Orc nomads of Druhak, the word "Vur-co" is vaguely mentioned in several stories. I thought very little of it, until I found a 2000 year old tablet from Kaudos; the stone writing entailed a poem involving a minor character named "Verzilor." Several years later, while studying the dwarven histories in Dormania, there was periodic reference to a figure called "Verclor" by famous heroes in their texts. Even in Bishapur where I was born, I was reminded of old tales concerning a seer named, "Versicolor." Apparently, this one name has appeared all over the world at wildly distant points in recorded history. Call me crazy, but I suspect that all these sources may be referring to a single figure.

During my travels, I've even encountered several adventurers who were familiar with the name and spoke of him as a living person. At first, I thought they were simply pulling my leg, but I can't resist the idea that there might be an actual Versicolor! Undoubtedly, I could never publish this scroll, for I'd be quickly discredited as a scholar. So I'll speak freely. If there is a Versicolor, what would that make him? A human with great power? Some spirit or god? An inter-dimensional being? Based on the various descriptions of his feats, the last seems most likely, however unlikely it sounds. That's also a sign that I'm probably crazy. Need to sleep. Note to self: burn scroll in the morning.

by Artiss Joran, Feldauren Ambassador to Dormania

(Found in a book by Dwalin, in Larlben's Library. The following is a translation...)

During the reign of the Dormanian ruler, King Gloisin VIII (200 years past), Dormania declared war upon the Da'ak Kingdom. Historians attribute the cause to a dwarf named Rebur.

Rebur, the head of a clan on Dormania's southern edge, near the Da'ak border, found himself in a land dispute over a rich ore vein that stretched into both territories. Primarily a nation of orcs, the Da'ak had begun mining the mountain, to which Rebur took offense, declaring the entire vein as his own. In hindsight, it's apparent the orc miners kept within Da'ak territory, a fact Rebur was aware of, but desired the vein in its entirety out of greed – the bane of many dwarves.

Not long after, he traveled to the Da'ak capital and appeared before their ruler, King Tuuk'ay. Rebur made his declaration and insisted that Da'ak miners leave 'his' lands, attempting to swindle the valuable resource. However, King Tuuk'ay was a well-respected and educated leader, and he knew full well the operations were legal. Quite simply, he responded 'No' to Rebur's demand. Losing his temper, Rebur make a dwaven gesture to the King, equivalent to extending one's middle finger for humans. Almost immediately, Rebur was seized and imprisoned.

Dwarves have a strong bond with other dwarves, feeling a deep-rooted attachment to their people. When news of Rebur's fate reached Dormania, there was public outcry – a dwarf imprisoned by their orc neighbors. King Gloisin VIII sent word demanding his release, a letter that was particularly threatening in tone. Offended by the dwarf's lack of apology, King Tuuk'ay sent Rebur's head in return, a traditional custom among orcs when declining a request. In spring, King Gloisin VIII initiated a war widely-supported by his people and launched troops into the Da'ak Kingdom.

This was a mistake, as the Da'ak Kingdom had recently forged a treaty with their western neighbors, the mainly human Kingdom of Feldauris. King Gloisin VIII didn't think the Feldauren were sincere in their alliance, for a lasting peace between orc and human nations was unprecedented. However, the Kingdom of Feldauris indeed upheld the treaty and joined the Da'ak armies in pushing back the Dormanians.

After the dwarves were repelled, the Da'ak and Feldauren armies ceased their offense, knowing they couldn't engage the Dormanians in their mountain strongholds without severe losses and a campaign lasting years. Considered a defeat for the dwarves, the war ended in sour temperament, without a treaty or reparations, and Dormania ultimately lost territory along the south border (including the mines which a foolish dwarf named Rebus tried to claim).

The lost regions became a point of contestation for centuries between Dormania and the Da'ak Kingdom, which the dwarves regarded as their rightful lands. Additionally, the Kingdoms of Feldauris and Da'ak were morally strengthened by the joint effort, powerfully sealing an alliance that'd be crucial for both nations throughout history. This concludes the political history of the Dormania and Da'ak War




(Left to Right: Ming Plus, Ming Lo, Mink, Takki, & Martin Rolfe)

The Adventurers of Shan-tai began with the brothers Ming Plus and Ming Lo, who grew up in the jungle city of Bpaa'Dohng. Both were strong, capable fighters, forcing the other to constantly improve. Amidst their adventures in the Southern Foothills, they encountered their third companion, Mink, a Shai-taiese halfling. Mink found them struck by poison arrows, having barely escaped the grasp of a hostile tribe. Crafting an antidote, he saved both their lives, and they forever became bonded as friends.

Later, they departed Shan-tai for the Isles of Mercia, intent upon the City of Herrod. While their ship was docked at Cliffshore, they met the adventurer Takki, whose knowledge and skill with the bow helped them save a councilman's daughter from ransom. Oldest and most experienced of the group, his advice is widely respected by the party.

Upon nearing Herrod, the merchant ship on which they bartered passage was attacked and looted by pirates. Only after a daring escape did they finally reach the shores of Perdane. In Herrod, they found employment with Celus Larlben. It was under his service they met their newest addition Martin Rolfe; initially capturing him as a prisoner, they soon after found themselves united by common goals.

A full group of adventurers, they travel the world fulfilling both quests and their personal goals. They are one of many such groups you'll encounter in the Isles of Mercia!



Songs heard in the Isles of Mercia often contain hints pertaining to the game. They might foreshadow events to come or provide important clues about a current dilemma. The song "Irene's Fall," which was first heard in the Boar's Tusk Inn prior to Biff's death, is one of the most complex and far-reaching metaphors to date.

Irene's Fall

"Ocean cease your thunderous call,
Glisten for me once again.
I beg of you with heart and soul,
Freedom from a heartless end.

Child underneath the storm,
Thrown into by evil will.
Sing to you until my death,
In my dreams I hear you still.

Voices never to be heard,
New cries filled an empty heart.
Child born above the storm,
Songs that light a blackened part.

Lover's blood upon the sand,
Crimson sun on crimson ground.
Child born above the storm,
Sing away my fear unbound.

Ocean cease your thunderous call,
Echoes on my lonesome hill.
Child underneath the storm,
In my dreams I hear you still."

To begin, the name Irene is a double metaphor. First, Eirene (or Irene) is the name of the Greek goddess of peace, and thus the title "Irene's Fall" can be translated as the fall of peace. Being performed by minstrels during the posts preceding Biff's death, the title itself signaled the impending chaos and violence which followed that particular event as well as in a general sense for the entire city. Second, from Irene was taken the amalgam Riene, which is of course the name of Lady Jacqueline's mother. This entire piece is written from her perspective, and the events mentioned within are highly relevant to her family.

"Child underneath the storm, Thrown into by evil will," explicitly refers to Riene's second daughter Abigail Corelia (and Jacqueline's sister). The two children were both thrown into the Tigyrn Sea by pirates when they were children after their ship was boarded. Jacqueline survived – Abigail didn't. Even to this day, Riene Corelia sings songs toward the sea as an expression of her grief, but perhaps more strange and mysterious is the fact that she (and all the Corelia family) hear songs back. "In my dreams I hear you still." This is a mystery that hasn't been unraveled yet.

"New cries filled an empty heart, Child born above the storm," is speaking about the birth of Marcus Larlben, Riene's third child. Having perceived that both her first two children were dead, unaware of Jacqueline's survival, Riene's grief wasn't alleviated until the birth of Marcus and beginning a new family with Celus Larlben. This was a poke at the brother and sister relationship between Jacqueline and Marcus which hadn't been realized at the time.

The next passages transitioned from current events to more distant foreshadowing. "Lover's blood upon the sand, Crimson sun on crimson ground." This was a prediction, a coin toss, that Adwonus would go through with his mission to assassinate Celus Larlben. For Riene, this would mark the death of her lover and husband in another instance of her tragic life. Notably, Larlben's body was indeed found at sunrise with crimson light filling the room and illuminating a crimson pool of blood upon the ground, thus fulfilling the darkly prophetic lyric.

"Child born above the storm, Sing away my fear unbound," is an address to Marcus, that is, Riene would ask Marcus to avenge his father's death, something which she has now done. Whether he'll be successful is not is another matter entirely. The song finally concludes with a reference to the ocean which still holds haunting secrets for the Corelia family.

This concludes the behind the scenes look at Irene's Fall and some of the underlying meanings within, not all of which have been revealed. . .


[Post pending.]

[Private to DM Ryan: I'm not even sure what to title this, haha. "So Close, So Far," is what I have in mind, I guess. But here's what I have so far:

Wagons beat heavily against the sticky pavement as more victims of last night’s terror were drawn in. It was far worse than other attacks—far more gruesome than ever, that’s for sure. Mangled arms, legs, and entrails of different victims all dangled decoratively as the wagon passed by.
With a heavy heart, I turned towards the morgue and heavily placed down one foot before the other, not looking anyone in the face, except for the doctor who stood there, pensive about where to start—probably more so about when it will ever end.
People are dying, he once told me, gripping me by the shoulders. I wonder if he remembered this. People are scared of the moon, and we have no idea of telling what this thing will do next! His breath stank of alcohol then, and he seemed to hiss with every breath he drew in. The hair on his head appeared matted and smelled as though he didn’t have a chance to take a bath. And his eyes were in the present, observing, but they were distant and detached. Sober or not, the man scuttled back into his hut, which we now named the morgue where he would autopsy and try to get a hold on what the hell was killing members of our village.
I shuddered, watching the wagon follow him into those big doors. I was his recruit, lucky me. He wanted me to help find some kind of pattern, but there was none. Never went in a straight line, never attacked the same area twice, never seemed to attack like a werewolf would.
Oh, yeah. Werewolves are very real. Every hair on my arms and legs affirms the reality of its presence in our village.
I sighed heavily and pushed my way into the morgue, the stench of old musty blood filling my nose. Not one body would lay here for more than a day before it was taken out to the pit to be burned with the rest of the victims. I glanced up at the walls to see bullet holes and blood spatters. It was one thing to see the dead, but... Those who were nearly dead, or had been attacked? Well, here, they were killed on sight. We took no chances.
Yes, we.
I am Ziv. My father-figure, Gundahar, protects our village—or tries to. But not even he can seem to protect everyone. He is seen as an outcast, at times—I mean, I can’t blame them. We’ve only lived here for two years, and the attacks just seem to haunt us, and we’re easy target for blame and curses. I, myself, couldn’t see a pattern between the two. Gundahar won't even acknowledge the murmurs against him or me. He just thought that working with the doctor will show people decency in not putting me in the targets for blame.
“Ziv? Thank heavens you’ve come,” shakily the doctor spoke. He really was put beside himself, today more than usual, and I couldn’t tell why. That is, until I saw what—or whom—he was staring at in the wagon. His wife, Sylvia, lay peacefully amongst the group. Her face, at least, wasn’t stained by blood, and it didn’t seem as though she was in pain when she was attacked. Autopsy was not necessary for her, as one could clearly see that one clean swoop at her chest left her without a heart. “M-My Sylvia h-has…” he, through a numbed jaw could finally feel the fears of this massive creature burn his cheeks.
No offense for this doctor, nor his wife… but I was not the greatest fan of her. Maybe she pleased him, or maybe she didn’t, but in the past, he was always complaining about his wife cheating, or how she’d come home drunk. Awful rumors about her sleeping around made her more of a celebrity than he did with his findings about the creature that attacked at the full moon.
Only this time, it wasn’t yet full moon. And now his wife is a stilled picture—and it looked as though this pitiful creature did her a favor by preserving her beautiful body, except for her heart. If anything, the beast did a beautiful thing and ended this man’s woe, and her vile actions at night that betrayed her faithful husband.
I gripped his shoulder, bunching the cloth in my fist, feeling truly sorry for him. “I’m so…” I couldn’t finish my sentence, partly because of the stench, but more so because of his face. Although he had been betrayed by his beautiful wife, he still loved her—even in the face of death. Poor guy. “I… have no idea why this… thing.. would do that to you.” And I had said so honestly.
“Ziv,” said a familiar, gruff voice. “C’mon, sweetie, we gotta go.” Gundahar peered in through the door, the silhouette of his big hat making him appear more mysterious than ever. I sighed and quickly hugged the doctor, who nodded towards the bodies that had been observed earlier. I wasn’t sure how he’d take on his new batch, but I took the handles of the drop-off wagon and heaved it towards Gundahar, who took only one grab to pull it the rest of the way out. “I don’t understand, kid.” I glanced up, trying to keep pace. “Why do you want to know so much about this beast?”
My eyes could do anything but focus right now. They moved back to the bodies in the crate, then forward to the path that led to the pit, back to Gundahar, and then to the ground. “Because…” I said bravely. “I want to hunt it down,” I swallowed and whispered, “like you.” Gundahar 'hmm'd' shortly in response, and pressed his lips into a thin line.
“Well… Hunting sure is in your blood, that’s for sure.” Well, that wasn’t the response I expected like the usual, “Not this time, kid.” Something changed, and if Gundahar was running out of options and turning to me for help, that means I was one step closer to trying to handle hunting—or killing the beast myself.]





Built on the coast of the Kingdom of Perdane, stands the great city of Herrod. Sailors often admiringly call it the Jewel of Herrod, for it shines like a gem when it peaks over the horizon, hailing ships from afar. Of all the cities in the many Isles of Mercia, Herrod is certainly the largest, a sprawling metropolis which covers two peninsulas of land, linked by the massive Twin Bridges which span across the Bay of Andor. The coastline is one dock, filled with white sails and ships from all over the Isles. It's in this urban landscape we now roam.

For two hundred years, the Kingdom of Perdane has stood as a unified Isle, ruled by a King who sits high in the capital city of Deon's Rise, but this is only in name. Long ago, the King lost his power, having fallen into the hands of the eight provinces which comprise Perdane, each governed by their own Lord, each a Kingdom in their own right. When the Lords and their provinces began fighting and quarreling amongst each other, they hired pirates to raid their rivals and control the seas, striving for control over the vital shipping and trade routes which fuel the coffers of Perdane. Over the decades of constant conflict, the Lords plummeted deeper and deeper into debt, their riches drained by costly warring, while the Pirates grew steadily wealthier, intelligent, and much more organized. Before the Lords realized their folly, they had lost their power as well. As their wealth grew, the mighty Pirate Lords increased their financial grip over the Isle, like a choking vine, buying politicians, businesses, and armies, and forcing the provinces to accept unforgiving loans from the Pirates, until all control of the Kingdom was theirs – ruled by the coin. For the past fifty years, the King and Lords have continued to rule over Perdane, but merely as puppets and faces of those with true power, the eight Pirate Lords. And thus, each province came to be ruled by two governments: the one people see, and the other they don't, hidden in the shadows.

Amidst this total corruption began a great conflict within the city of Herrod. After the death of their previous Lord without an heir, a new Lord was appointed from among the prominent Noble families by the King. That appointment was Lord Ivan Steyus. Controversial, many did not expect the Steyus family to be selected, especially the Delcors, who were among the oldest and most influential families in the city. It was not until they were shown hidden documents from the capital that the flames blazed. The outrage was taken up by their eldest son, Kelden Delcor, who claimed the King had indeed appointed the Delcor family to the Lordship, but their selection was thwarted by the Council of Eight, a council of the eight Pirate Lords, at the meddling yet skillful politics of Ivan Steyus.

Infuriated by the injustice, Kelden Delcor made a public outcry, only to be imprisoned by Steyus, a lifetime sentence that did not last. While in the prison of Herrod, a riot broke out and prisoners freed, seemingly caused at the hands of a mysterious man named Alldyde. Later, it was discovered that Alldyde had been sent there to assassinate Kelden Delcor by Lord Ivan Steyus, who still perceived Kelden as a threat, yet make it appear as an accident during the chaos. However, the assassination failed, and Kelden Delcor managed to escape. Swearing to bring an end to corruption, undo the tyranny of Lord Steyus, and tear down Pirate control, Kelden Delcor began a rebellion to fight for the soul of Herrod.

As Kelden Delcor proclaimed his family's right to the Lordship, dividing the hearts of the city, another man made a claim: Celus Larlben. Seeing the city caught between two poor choices, the contentious Ivan Steyus and the inexperienced, young Kelden Delcor, Celus Larlben cast forth his name for the Lordship. Although the Larlben's were not a Noble family, they were by far the wealthiest, for Celus Larlben was indisputably the most successful businessman in the city, rival to the financial power of the Pirates themselves. Larlben's name was respected by both the Merchant Guilds and many common folk alike, and he promised to return prosperity to Herrod. Soon, the city was divided amidst three factions: Celus Larlben, Kelden Delcor, and Ivan Steyus.



Here, our adventures began in Castle Herrod before the throne of Lord Steyus, who recruited a group of adventurers into his service. Charging them with the task of bringing an end to the rebellion but first retrieving documents from one of Kelden Delcor's lieutenants, they set out into the tense and restless city, where peace had nearly fallen to civil war. At last, they reached their destination, an inn known as the Boar's Tusk, and inside they discovered the identity of the rebel lieutenant, a man known as Biff. This information they held onto for mere moments before witnessing Biff's brutal murder. Filled with men of both Larlben and Delcor's following, the tavern erupted into violence; torches fell in the chaos, and the inn was soon engulfed in flames. Many died that night, a small depiction of the city at large, which also sits on the brink of discord. But the adventurers escaped, though barely. Uncertain of the hand who slayed their target, they caught a frightening glimpse into the truth: that there was more going on in this city than what they'd been told, a dark web of strings they couldn't quite see.

After an uncomfortable night's rest, the adventurers received a strange letter from Celus Larlben himself, promising much needed information, for indeed mysteries played at their mind. Who truly killed Biff? And why was the Pirate Lord of Herrod, known as Red Jack, remaining so silent as the city descended into violence? This and more drove them to visit Celus Larlben's estate, a large, walled manor in Upper Herrod. There, they were surprisingly welcomed as guests and treated to luxuries and fine dining. It was then revealed that Celus Larlben's wife was truly the mother of one of their own adventuring party members, Lady Jacqueline Raynelde, for both had thought the other dead for decades. Another of the adventurers was revealed to be Celus Larlben's own son, Marcus, sent by him to guard Jacqueline, and ensure her safe arrival to Larlben Manor. But this visit was more than just a family affair. Celus Larlben professed that Biff's death had truly been the work of Pirates, who attacked in the midst of truce negotiations between Larlben and Delcor, thus destroying relations between them. What's more, he revealed that Pirate Lord Red Jack had been secretly overthrown and replaced by another, a new Pirate Lord far more secretive and dangerous. Thus arose a new question: How are the Pirates involved in the chaos which now threatens the city?

Celus Larlben then asked the adventurers to perform a new quest, to find Kelden Declor's secret base and re-establish negotiations of a truce between them, for many of Declor's followers believed Larlben had committed the attack, increasing hostility between them. But the quest would never be fulfilled, for that night Celus Larlben was assassinated while he slept. It wasn't until later the following morning the adventurers discovered that the assassination was neither the work of pirates nor strangers, but rather done at the hands of one of their own party members, Adwonus Swillman, who had remained loyal to Lord Ivan Steyus throughout their recent trials. Amidst high tension and distrust, Adwonus revealed that they'd in fact received orders from Steyus to assassinate Larlben, after Adwonus made known the adventurers had received invitation into his home. All this was revealed after they were forced to leave Larlben Manor that morning, only stumble upon a conflict between Kelden Delcor's rebels and the City Guard! As rebels assaulted a guardpost in the Upper Herrod, the adventurers were compelled to choose whose side they're really on. And they're finding not everyone's on the same side. Yet somehow, the party cannot help but feel there's more at work here, witnessing the onset of civil war but not the hands which guide them. Together, they must work to find the truth before it's too late, the truth that seems to bring Herrod closer and closer to its knees. They must uncover the Shadows of Herrod.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:13, Sun 21 Feb 2016.

The adventurers headed back toward town, departing with one more friend than they arrived with. Pine trees gave way to the fields of tall, beige grass that laid between the mine and the town; they rippled beneath a nighttime breeze. As they neared buildings once again, they wondered if they had forgotten something.

"Hey, did we hide that headless body?" Jehan asked aloud.

The pondered a few moments. Eike hesitatingly replied, "Of course, I think. I mean, how could we forget something like that?" An uncomfortable silence of uncertainty followed.

Jehan then laughed. "You're right! That would crazy to forget, wouldn't it."

That was enough for them, and they put it out of their minds. At the very least, they willfully suppressed it. They had suppressed a lot of possibly traumatizing things that evening. Feeling a lot more blissfully ignorant and perhaps laying the seeds for a few nervous ticks in the future, they continued into town to pay a visit to the nightman.

They took a moment to review the loot they had plucked off those thugs:



Finally they were back on mainstreet, and the tavern of Varna Inn looked lively as they passed by. A few patrons hung about the outside talking in a drunken air. The adventurers then recognized the old shopkeeper from the General Store walking inside, and on his arm was that old woman who he was laying the moves to earlier that day. Now that was an old man who had skills with the ladies. Resisting the temptation to get a drink, they continued down the street until they approached the west wall, which separated the western side of town from the forest. Looking back they could still see Varna Inn, but the noise it made was now only a low mumble, save for the occasional drunken shout. Mainstreet was the only street that continued outside of Varna itself, and ran almost perfectly straight from the eastern gate to the western gate. They had followed it straight to the west gate.

Naturally the gate was closed, for it was the habit of Varna to close its gates at night. And stationed at each gate would be a nightman, who performed the simultaneous function of watching the gate, in case of a late night traveler, and watching the town itself down mainstreet, as the closest thing Varna had to a guard. On the inside of the west gate, just beside its tall wooden doors, was an open-faced shack attached to the wall. The clear purpose of this shack was to protect the nightman from rain on stormy nights, as well as give a kind of officialness to his post. In terms of privacy, it gave very little, for you could see directly into it from the road.

Inside the shack was a small table with a lantern on it, accompanied by a simple stool, and sitting on this stool was a person wearing a dingy, black cloak. They were hooded and looking away from the adventurers, lost in some midnight reverie. The nightman looked almost inhuman as lantern light flickered off the shadowy cloak, a creature of the night. Warily, the adventurers approached.

As they did, they conjured plans in their minds as to what they would do, as to how they could get the information they needed. Intimidation? Torture? Bribery? Their moral sense had really taken a downturn lately. As they neared the nightman, the figure noticed their presence and turned to them.

"Oh, hello!"

It was a girl! The hood fell back to reveal a twenty year old girl with brown hair and blue eyes. In fact, it was the same girl the adventurers noticed earlier today while they were standing outside the General Store, and who made Jehan think of love songs for hours. With a big bright smile on her face, she said, "Lovely night, isn't it!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:04, Sun 21 Feb 2016.