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[right][b][color=ed1c24]Praetor City, Dall[/color]
Winter - 941 F.M [color=0072bc](Finis Mortem)
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nOUc3ihrLwM][ ♫ ][/url][/color][/b][/right]
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Dark clouds filled the sky like a gloomy afterthought. Weak rays of sunlight peaked through the breaks in the gray, filling the frozen streets of Praetor City with a much needed light. Ice clung to the numerous high towers that loomed overhead, the chilling wrath of some unseen god wrapping tightly about them. Flakes of ice crystals were carried down on the biting wind, joining the layers of white that covered every inch of the city proper. Though the constant foot traffic on the busier streets had managed to carve a rough path through the inches-deep snow, travel was still made obnoxiously difficult by winter's frost.

Despite the weather, Praetor was as active as ever. It's markets were filled to the brim with citizens wrapped in their warmest cloaks, rushing to purchase what food and goods they could to survive the early winter. Merchants still packed their wagons full of furs, winter wheat and other trade goods, planning to ride from Praetor City to the nearby villages that so desperately needed their wares. And even in the winter the local drunks and ne'er-do-wells needed to piss away what little coin they had on cheap beer, stale pastries and other, less savory forms of pleasure. 

Far from the dirty and grimy masses of serfs, a near panic had set in at the king's palace. Behind it's smooth walls of glistening granite and it's towers that touched the very heavens, officials and knights were rushing about between it's golden halls to complete their own tasks. With the unexpected coming of an early winter came many a duty that needed to be fulfilled. Defenses needed to be shored up, messages needed to be sent off, the supplies needed to be checked and double-checked to make sure they would last until the coming of summer. And, most importantly, the artifact hunts needed to be arranged.

Hidden away in a tiny study stuffed full of useless trinkets and piles upon piles of scrolls, the castle steward frantically attempted to finish the final touches on his fiftieth summons of the day. Frederick Lethino's quill glided across the parchment like a ship across the sea, a trail of black ink left behind with every precise mark, jot and tittle. Lethino finished the final line, a sigh escaping his thin lips as he returned the quill to it's stand. [i]'At last.'[/i] He thought. Dark bags hung like men at the gallows underneath his uninteresting eyes. The words on the page were all but blending together after staring at paper after paper after paper. It was only through sheer force of will that the steward had managed to complete this final one.

Spindly, wrinkled fingers reached for the stamp sat on the desktop before him. Lethino planted the seal of the king on the scroll, finalizing it's authenticity. Now it was ready to be rolled up and sent away with one of the messenger boys. Frederick rose from his chair, his movements sluggish and slow. Even indoors, the coolness of the winter air were hell upon his bones. Taking up the scroll, the steward shuffled forth from his office. Massive windows that reached greater heights than some of the buildings in the city allowed the fleeting rays of the sun to filter into the gold-wrapped and pearly white hallways of the palace. It was a welcome difference from the low candle light that Lethino was used to working in. '[i]I must hurry. They await my arrival.'[/i] He reminded himself, moving faster to his destination. First he had to drop off the scroll at the messenger's office, then he could be on his way toward his real appointment. Frederick would be cutting it close; he only hoped that the hunters would behave themselves while they waited.

After several minutes, Lethino eventually reached the bottom floor of the castle. He pressed through the grandiose entrance hall, the guards allowing him to pass without hassle- that balding head and frizzled beard were all the identification they needed for the king's royal steward. He stopped before the heavy oaken doors that shielded the keep from invader and starving commoner alike. 'Alright, Lethino. You have done this many times before.' He reminded himself, as he had every time prior to this one. 

Lethino couldn't help that nervous tickle in his rib cage before little things like this- that intangible worry that he would flub his delivery, or that they would be unreceptive to his words. He swallowed it down, clearing his throat as he placed his hands upon the iron handles of the gateway. Frederick threw them open, their great weight causing his meager arms to yearn for respite. The frozen wind immediately tasted his rosy cheeks, that force assisting in throwing the doors open the rest of the way.

Frederick took a single step out of the threshold, his arms thrown wide in a bombastic display. "Welcome to Praetor Keep, mighty adventurers!" Lethino shouted, a wily smile on his face as he turned to look at the host of treasure hunters and noble knights that were-

"Wait." Lethino's face fell in confusion. "W-where the devil are they?!" He spun his head about, moving further out into the courtyard. It was empty! Not a single soul stood out in the blistering wind or frozen, icy snow. "Oh, gods..." Frederick stepped back into the hall, his panicked gaze searching for the first of the guardsmen that he could find. "You there, soldier!" The royal steward called out. The guard looked quizzically over at the nobleman. "How many bells have sounded?"

He stood quietly for a moment, a metal-encased hand moving up to touch the bottom of his chin. "Uh..'bout three, I reckon."

"Three?!" Lethino screamed. He thought his heart was going to burst. "By the gods, I'm late! I was late!" He had worked right through the meeting and hadn't even heard the third bell sound. How long had it been since then? He must've left them out in the cold for so long that they all just left! The steward tied up his cloak and threw the hood over his head, rushing back out into the cold. He raced through the courtyard and shout through the raised gate, his feet sliding to a halt in the open street.

"Has anyone seen my adventurers?!"