[@TheUnknowable]
[hider=Roark Axeslinger]

The gates of Dhirim, hang high above your head. They are stone monoliths, first built there a long, long time ago. You are equipped in full battle armor, with javelins, knives, and your trusty axe to boot. The guards give you shifty looks as you study the exterior. It is a midday, and the bustling merchant town, capital of Swadia, home to King Harlaus himself, beckons you. Over the heads of the crowd you spot the tavern, the start of any ordinary adventure, legal or not. And then, a little farther beyond that, a smug looking rich man seems to be awaiting someone to do service for him. The guild master of the town, one might expect.

You also catch the tantalizing whiff of freshly baked bread, cooked meat, and brewed mead emanating from within the town. There are people of all sorts brushing past one another, pale, bearded Nords. Dark-skinned Sarranids, people of Khergit descent. Dhirim is one of the few places left in Calradia where the civilians of different factions can meet. This is one place where you might be able to blend in.



[/hider]


[@Lucius Cypher]

[hider=Ntaaj]

Your horse crests a hill, and in your sight is the grey block that is Curaw. Prince Yaroglek's own estate, his massive banner flies over head. A cobble-stone path leads down the hill, and becomes small to your view, but it runs directly to the frozen gates of Curaw. The ground around you is covered in a light layer of snow, but your flight from the Khanate was unburdened by any precipitation. The sun is shining above, and the far of snow reflects brilliantly, creating a dazzling sparkling effect on the horizon. To the far left of Curaw, you can barely spot the rising smoke from a nearby village. 

Unfortunately, your troubled past has given you some enemies. Alagur Noyan, a vassal of the Khanate that you held hostage to cover your escape, is most certainly looking for you right now. You did upon him a great disrespect, and a man's honor is only barely second to his life. 
[/hider]