[center][h3]Prologue: Galloway[/h3][/center]

[center][img]http://i1070.photobucket.com/albums/u500/smileyjaws94/bd15a6cc-3274-4871-ba5c-58ccfb9f38b8_zpsofkzdnlq.jpg[/img][/center]

[center] [b]Location:[/b] Galloway (Town-stead)
[b]Weather:[/b] Fog
[b]Time of Day:[/b] Night (2am)
[b]Rendezvous:[/b] “The Retired Sword“ Tavern[/center]

[I]It had grown late into the night, those taverns most regularly checked by guards had closed their doors to non-residents. Those who had nothing to do the next day and some who had flocked to those taverns down side streets and alleys that guards did not enter or had arrangements with. “The Retired Sword” has grown full and lively as it dwells further into the night. Our adventurers find themselves either joining the festivities or still awake in the tavern because with all the noise they find themselves unable to sleep. Occasionally the howl of a Gallowglade wolf pierces the ears of the patrons,  the sound is chilling but doesn‘t impede on the festivities. A fog had rolled over the town having been approaching for quite a while giving a completely different atmosphere to the town streets, many of  the lanterns no longer burning for another night.

Suddenly, the inn grew quiet as a flock of armored guard, swords, halberds or crossbows at the ready ran down the street past the inn the thudding of their leather boots almost in unison, breastplates and helmets giving off a metallic jangle. One guard passing lit the lanterns hanging outside buildings as they could. The noise hadn‘t just raised the curiosity of the inn patrons, simply relieved that the guards weren‘t coming for them, but also some of the residents in the areas, peering through windows to see what was going on.

The toll of a bell coming from the abbey at the North side of the town is when a sense of worry sets in. More guards run through the streets in small groups but it is apparent that they are passing through many other streets as well, all heading for the same direction. 
[/I]