Dawn 1st of Fading

The three party members stand before the massive “River Gates” waiting for morning access into the fortified city. The gates close at night fall and open again at daybreak, keeping out the all too often seen Orc raids and Bandit jumps.
A large group of people await access with the party members, some with their carts and goods others with nothing. Space is not an issue so the people are separated into their own formed groups. Some people wait in silence, some people mingle amongst each other, a fatherly type man can be heard lecturing his son just a short distance away. ” Boy this ‘err is a place where a man like you can really be somebody. You can start with the Shields, then the Watch. One day boy you might even make Legion.....”The old mans voice trails off.
Waiting their turn in line behind the party members is a rather rough group of what seems to be adventures, four strong is their number. The rough looking group shifts back and forward on their feet as they wait patiently, as they shift one can see that two of the men carry a make shift stretcher with a man lying on it, making their number five.
The air is brisk in the late summer morning the last Tear of Selune can just barley be seen low in the sky to the west, the sun fights its way into the cloud covered sky on the eastern horizon.



OOC: Welcome to Sundabar. The gates will be opening soon
This message was last updated by the GM at 20:44, Mon 21 Feb 2005.

"Oy I wish the Dawn would hurry up and break. That Pickled Boars Tongue I had for lunch yesterday is fighting back and I swear I best get to a privy!" She looks at the other travellers and there wagons. "At least food and goods seem plentifull, even if our Gold is not."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:33, Mon 07 Feb 2005.

Milo thinks to himself how bad human cities smell, and says to his dog in a hushed tone. "Keep you eyes out for trouble Ruff, these city folk are tricky"

He then looks up to Vespian St Brandi and says: Why are we here agian?

"Herbs, hebs and spices Milo." She grins, "That runaway swarm of Katydids and Boxelder bugs wiped out our stored provisions and blighted our plantings. Your tending to the wounded and ill animals is not as effective without them. And with my yeasts and hops cleaned out, I can't brew a descent batch of Stout Ale worth drinking." She holds her stomach with a grimace for a moment. "Wouldn't hurt to research a ward against fleas for fluffy either."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:32, Mon 07 Feb 2005.