Captain Harrad, crouched at the base of an ancient oak, eyes on the goblins ahead, nodded in agreement. "I think it is a sound idea," he said. "It would be useful to know what we're up against before charging in. Even so," he continued, "we're here for our captured citizens, if they yet live. Be swift in your scouting, if that is your course of action. Every minute we waste is precious time lost."
He thumbed the crossbow at his side as he watched the goblins. The veteran captain looked back to his men, the four guardsmen who had accompanied them to the priory, each of whom carried the same. "As for the watch, we could take them at a range, too. All of my men are proficient with their crossbows. Dwarven make, reliable, lethal. If we coordinated our shots we could kill them where they stand, I'm sure. Per the Lord-Mayor's command, we are here to support you and the tactical choices are yours to make, but say as much and I will give the order."
Harrad was clearly a soldier at heart, chain of command and orders his bread and butter, and from the look of it he had impressed that attitude on his guardsmen as well. He made a quick sign with his hands, and the guardsmen lay down their spears and readied their crossbows, prepared to fire a volley.
An Old Priory, Southwest of Orzamar Cardherday, 27th of Rainwater 1257 GC
An old stone priory, a church of Gyaal, sat still in the wood. Half a stained-glass sheet, depicting the crucifixion of Saint Nimriel by the river, remained in one of the two windows on the front. The afternoon light, piercing the dense forest canopy above, shown on the pale blues and reds of the broken shards that still hung in the window.
This priory had once sat in a clearing, it seemed, but the growth of the forest had overtaken it after years of neglect. The priory consisted of two grey stone buildings, one a larger church, the other a smaller building, connected by a ten to fifteen-foot hall lined with stain glass windows. What had once been a garden, set neatly before the hall between the buildings, complete with benches and what looked to have once been a complete statue of one of the saints, had seen the growth of wild shrubs, brush, and trees. The statue’s head was removed, leaving only a white marble body, arms outstretched.
The party, concealed in the underbrush behind the tree line, considered their options.
The goblins had made no effort to conceal their tracks, and though they could not discern the number of the savages that had treaded through the undergrowth, their path through the brush suggested that there were more than enough of them to make this rescue a daunting task. They would be handsomely rewarded by the Lord-Mayor, though, the captain of the guard reminded them.
Captain Emmanuel Harrad, a dark-skinned native of Ghirducania who had served for years as a legionnaire during the Yvenlond campaign, crouched in the brush with the adventurers, his guardsmen behind them. The plan Captain Harrad proposed was straightforward. The adventurers would enter the priory, eliminate the goblins therein, rescue the citizens in distress, as many as they could, and return before nightfall. The guardsmen, meanwhile, would hold the rear, ensuring that the way back to the Stone Road was clear and that the adventurers wouldn’t be ambushed from behind.
Easier said than done, surely.
Some seventy feet from their position, two goblins, one armed with shield and spear, the other a shortbow and longknife, stood guard outside the entrance to the priory. The short, lanky greenskins did not seem terribly attentive. The one with the spear leaned idly against the stone construction, while his bow toting companion crouched down to investigate something in the dirt.
The great wooden doors that served as the entrance were slightly ajar, but the adventurers could not see beyond them at their angle and distance.
What do you do?
The Road to Tinwe, South of Tinwarren Cardherday, 27th of Rainwater 1257 GC
The Road to Tinwe was quiet.
East of Orzamar, the forest closed in on the road, and the path through the foothills became more winding and rockier with each league. Songbirds, perched on the pine branches, sang eerily cheerful songs that pierced the silence. As the party moved, they passed a tall black stone, some nine feet in height and carved from a single slab of rock. It was one of the so-called Waystones built by the Vieric Empire. The rock, which appeared slick to the touch, almost as if freshly oiled, shone in the afternoon light.
They were common throughout the Empire, marking safe passageways, or so the old tales told. Most travelers avoided stopping to rest by them, though. It was bad luck to sleep in the shadow of a Waystone. That the tales also told.
Tinwarren, Pelial Skadden had told the party, was located half a day’s journey east, at which point they’d come to a well-worn path through the woods, marked by a sign. The kobolds were quite friendly, he had added, the civilized sort of monster most folk in the Empire wouldn’t believe existed. They were not used to receiving visitors, however. Usually, they would load up a cart, pulled by the mountain rams native to the Forgewall, and drive the ore in to Orzamar to the local smithy. What use for Adean coinage the kobolds had, the gnome did not pretend to know.
Pelial had not accompanied the adventurers on their journey to Tinwarren, sending instead one of his research assistants in his stead. Devrah Coie (“Devie for short,” she’d told them), a tiny chatterbox of a gnome wizard with energy to spare, had talked their ears off about her studies at the College and her love of enchantment and how Professor Skadden was such an incredible potionmaster and so on. If any of this nervous energy came from the fact that she was journeying with a group of armed mercenaries to search for her missing peers, she made no mention of it.
As she stopped to collect a few white flowers, petals streaked with yellow veins, the adventurers noticed a signpost hammered into the ground. A crude directional sign pointed to the left—north—off the road. Unfamiliar characters lettered the signpost, and underneath them, in very roughly scrawled Adean script, was the word “Tinwarren.” A worn dirt path, just as Pelial described, snaked its way off the Road to Tinwe north, through the stout oaks and pines, beckoning them to journey deeper into the wood.
It had been nearly a week and a half since the Voice of Vaul had come, spoken, and departed, and though rumors of the coming invasion traveled like wildfire through the town, all was quiet on the Empire’s eastern front. As quiet as it ever was, of course.
Though the forest goblins and orcs of the Caegwenn, the northernmost stretch of the Great Adean Forest, had always been a problem, the occasional raids on farms and caravans took on new, graver import in light of the Voice’s proclamation. Panicked citizens reported goblin highwaymen as advance scouts of an invading army, and the guard was spread thin as they responded to calls for aid that grew wilder and more panicked as the days drew on and the story of the Voice spread. To keep order and assuage the fearful citizenry, Lord-Mayor Duridan Hillhame dispatched a significant portion of the guard north into the forested foothills to combat the Mosswolf Clan, long standing enemies of Orzamar responsible for many a raid on a trader and murder of an Imperial citizen.
Though this act pacified the people, tragedy struck as goblins of the White Skull Tribe launched a large-scale attack on a caravan of traders, coming east from Hillcross. The few survivors arrived at Wayfarer’s Rest, at the western gate of the fortress-town, and described the butchering of the Imperial and dwarvish citizens, and how the goblins had taken a dozen or more of the travelers captive as they escaped south. Desperate to keep the peace and to protect his people, Lord-Mayor Hillhame requested that his captain of the guard, Emmanuel Harrad, recruit mercenaries to assist in the rescue and return of the kidnapped citizens.
Fortunately for the Lord-Mayor, Orzamar lacked not for such adventurers. Many came to Orzamar in search of work as mercenaries and adventurers, for there was mystery beyond the eaves of the forest, loot to be found, and monsters to be killed, for gold or thrill as a man may please.
Emmanuel Harrad and a company of guardsmen had no difficulty recruiting a party of adventurers to aid them in the rescue attempt.
At the same time, Pelial Skadden, a professor of magic working at the Imperial College of Orzamar, had developed grave concerns for the safety of his students.
The Imperial College of Orzamar, called the Observatory, was not a college in the same vein as the Colleges of Teres, Valador, and Crowngarden. It was a small set of buildings on the northern side of the fortress-town where professors of magic brought their students for academic courses in astrological analysis, divination, and herbology in the field. Skadden, a professor of enchantment and herbology at the Imperial College of Valador, had brought a few students to Orzamar to study the powerful leylines beneath the Forgewall, the curious potency of the Caegwenn Forest’s herbs, and the properties of orichalcum, a metal similar to gold with powerful magical applications, the ore of which was extracted from veins under the Forgewall.
Tinwarren was a kobold mine northwest of Orzamar which extracted tin ore from the earth and sold it in Orzamar to be smelted and refined. Tin from Tinwarren was one of Orzamar’s chief exports to the Empire. In addition, however, the kobolds of Tinwarren often extracted orichalcum as well. Recently, the kobolds had struck a peculiar vein of red orichalcum, and Professor Skadden dispatched several of his students, accompanied by assistant professor Fillion Flexner, to investigate.
A week and a half after the Voice of Vaul had come and gone, Skadden had not yet heard from his students. Concerned for their safety, he petitioned Captain Harrad to dispatch a company of guardsmen to investigate, but the town guard was stretched too thin to assist. Fortunately, he found another avenue by which he might assist his wayward charges.
A group of adventurers headed east on the Road to Tinwe toward Tinwarren.
I'll save us the time and fiat us into Option 2, actually. After further discussions, I think it's the better choice and will give us some flexibility and fix the need for me to be on hand to resolve every player's action after they take it. It'll be a much smoother experience for all of us, I think.
Thanks again to Tolack for the suggestions, I expect this will go over very nicely.
Also, general update (will be added to the Discord as well), we now have six characters. As soon as we round out enough for the two parties and you guys sort yourself out into two groups, I will post the encounter prompts. If we can get everyone's sheets up sooner than Sunday, I'm happy to kick the adventure off early.
The trade into the Empire from beyond the Forgewall had slowed to a trickle, and then ceased. The last travelers from beyond the wall spoke in hushed tones of the growing power of Vaul, warchief of a grand alliance of orc and goblinkind, who commanded a thousand tribes of the Steppe and lead them on a war of conquest. Molkh had burned, some said. Qepren had been set ablaze with dragonflame and sorcery, said others. Vaul marches on Tinwe, said the last travelers west. No more followed after them.
The lords of Orzamar, those minor noble families on the fringe of the Empire, dismissed these concerns. The orcs of the Steppe had not crossed over from the Forgewall into the Empire in centuries. The walled cities beyond the Forgewall had stood strong for five thousand years and more. The primitive savages of the Steppe could not hope to challenge ordered and lawful societies with the undisciplined rabble they called armies.
But the traders had stopped coming, that was undeniable. The Road to Tinwe was silent, until the Voice of Vaul spoke.
A lone orc, a hulking, brown skinned brute, hair in a black topknot, with a heavy bearded axe slung through his saddle, arrived on the back of a great brown wolf of the steppes. A black banner, unadorned by symbol or color, fluttered in the wind as he came. He brought his canine steed to a halt outside Orzamar’s Eastern Gate. The town guard, perched on the walls of the fortress-town, bid the orc that he state his business at Orzamar and in the Empire.
“I am the Voice of Vaul,” the orc answered, his words a booming thunder, a challenge, “Khan of Khans, Warchief of the Steppe, who razed Tinwe and burned the cities of Molkh and Qepren. All cities are ash in his wake, all enemies are broken before him. This city was of the orcs. Its bones are orcish, its wood and stone are orcish. It will belong to the orcs again. This, Vaul demands of his armies, and his command is your devastation. Abandon this fortress, scatter yourself to the winds, and Vaul will show you mercy. Remain, and you will receive no quarter. This is the word of Vaul.”
And with that, the orc, the first of his kind to cross the Forgewall in centuries, departed, back on the winding, mountainous path into the Gap of the Forgewall, and across Durand’s Bridge to the Eastern Steppe beyond.
By the rising of the twin moons over Arann that evening, ravens had flown for Khazadram and Valador, conveying the news and carrying a single request, that the Empire and her allies come to the defense of Orzamar.
Combat House Rule: Initiative One thing I've been mulling over is how to deal with the hopefully-not-inevitable disappearance of players. With a turn based system, a player dropping off the face of the earth in a play-by-post setting without informing the group can cause the game to grind to a halt (see Lost Realms of Arann: Northmarch). I very much hope we don't lose anyone, but to deal with that in the event we do, I'm instituting a house rule borrowed from Final Fantasy Games's Star Wars: Edge of the Empire role playing system.
When rolling for initiative, rather than players going in the order they roll, we will instead be using Player Slots. In essence, each player's initiative roll unlocks a Player Slot at that initiative value. There is no obligation for players to act on the Player Slot their initiative roll produced. So, to demonstrate, consider the following scenario.
A Fighter, a Wizard, and a Rogue are engaged in combat against the Voice of Vaul and his bodyguard. The Fighter, Wizard, and Rogue roll a 12, a 7, and an 18 on their initiative rolls, respectively, and the Voice of Vaul and his bodyguard roll a 13 and a 3, respectively. The order of combat is as follows:
18 - Player Slot 13 - Enemy Slot 12 - Player Slot 7 - Player Slot 3 - Enemy Slot
Any one of the players can choose to take that first initiative slot. Rather than the Rogue going first, the Wizard may choose to act during that first Player Slot instead, or the Fighter.
I'm not sure what the ramifications will be for the game with this system, so if it breaks it entirely I apologize, but I think this should combat the danger of the game grinding to a halt if someone leaves unexpectedly. Rather than waiting for that person to show up, we can have the fight continue smoothly.
Let me know if you have any comments or concerns on this house rule.
Torack has put forward another idea I rather like.
TorackToday at 4:05 PM I remember this one system that was employed on the DnDBeyond forums similar to this, but essentially what would happen is that everyone rolled for initiative and posted in random order despite the initiative and the DM would summarize everything that happened after a single round
I would couple this with a time limit to post, say 48 or 72 hours, to be adjusted as needed. If you guys are quick and responsive, we can resolve things more quickly, if not we can take a longer window. The point would be that only people who have dropped out of the RP would be skipped.
I am open to either one, please post here with your vote, either Option 1 (Player Slots) or Option 2 (Torack's Simultaneous Resolution).
Let’s talk shop and jump into it. As mentioned, you can find our Discord Channel here, and the world map here. You’ll find that we lay our scene at Orzamar, which you may find by following the road from the dwarven city of Khazadram east, to the Eastern Gap in the Forgewall Mountains. This ancient place, once an orcish fortress, is now a bustling town, a trade hub and haven for all peoples traveling east and west along the Stone Road.
But who are you? You are adventurers, local folk who deal with goblins, orcs, and other monsters of the forests, protecting the locals and their livelihood in exchange for gold. You may come from the farthest reaches of Yvenlond, or the farm just down the way by Old Man Cobb’s mill, but what matters is that you are here, and you bear witness to the beginning of an epic saga.
That saga began yesterday, from your character’s perspective, though the dramatic importance of the event may have been lost on them. A hobgoblin herald, the self-proclaimed Voice of Vaul, the Great Khan of the Eastern Steppe, arrived at the gates of Orzamar and announced that in Vaul’s name, this city would be his. As fear spreads among the locals, and the local lords debate what steps to take next, however, the goblins have struck.
A trading caravan bound for Orzamar from Hillcross, to the west, was sacked by the greenskins, and a number of citizens of the Empire and the Underkingdom of Khazadram have been taken into the depths of the Great Forest. Tracking the movements of the goblins through the forest, you and your fellow adventurers have discovered their lair, an ancient priory of Gyaal hidden in the woods, lost long ago to the overgrowth of the forest.
What will you do next? The choice is yours.
Now, for a quick crash course on what this is all about…
Orzamar Orzamar is a small, fortified town home to about eight hundred people, and sits squarely on the frontier of the Empire. Just under a hundred years ago, Orzamar was an orcish settlement, but during the last war against the orcs and hobgoblins of the east, the Iron Dwarves took Orzamar by force and routed them, banishing the greenskins across Forgewall and into the forests of the northern empire. The Iron Dwarves, far more accustomed to living under the earth than on its surface, ceded Orzamar to the Hill Dwarves of the Forgewall’s foothills, and Orzamar has since become a haven and trading post, home to many varied peoples.
The Great Eastern Forest, the greatest stretch of woods on the continent, teems with goblin tribes, which have harried and harassed the citizens of the empire for years. In your first foray into Lost Realms of Arann: Orzamar, you will find yourself squaring off against these local enemies, though there may be more to them than you might expect.
Now, let's talk about the races, religions, and languages of the world, just to give you sense of what this place is all about.
Arann’s humans are an immensely diverse group, and the largest single race. They live and rule on every continent of the world, with their civilizations taking all shapes and forms.
The Adean Empire is the cradle of humanity, and the Emperor of Adea rules over the kingdoms of Adea, Medea, and Valador, and maintains the fealty of the thanes of Terland and a nigh-unbreakable alliance with the Kingdom of Arleon. Adean, Medean, and Valadorian humans are all the same, more or less, falling under the category of Adean.
This is not the full catalogue of Arann’s humanity, however. To the north, the barbaric, tribal Viers of Northmarch make their home. Across the sea on the continent of Yvenlond an explorer will find the twin kingdoms of Ciathay, the Celestial Empire of Jivan, and the Six Cities. At the center of the World Sea, the archipelagic continents of Manzannobar and Ghirducania are ruled by the monolithic Ghirducanian Empire, whose legions are locked in a century’s long conflict with the Six Cities. To the south, beyond the Kingdom of Trepanto and the city-states of Etryca and Corsciva, there are the Three Gems of Shayar, and beyond that the kingdoms of Onangal and Nuberia.
The Dwarves of Arann have two variants: the Iron Dwarves and the Hill Dwarves.
Iron Dwarves are those dwarves that dwell beneath the mountains of the Forgewall. Their Underkingdom, which stretches across the mountain range from Dun Boldir in the north to the mines under Adea to the south, is the oldest standing civilization in the world, having been founded thousands upon thousands of years ago, when the world was young. Iron Dwarves are strong senses of honor, duty, and faithfulness, which can perplex men and elves. Mechanically, the Iron Dwarves of the Forgewall are Mountain Dwarves.
The Iron Dwarves’ cousins, the Hill Dwarves, are those dwarves that left the Underkingdom to live under the sky above ground. Dark skinned than their pale cousins, the hill dwarves are considered queer by their subterranean relations, and as far more relatable by humanity and elvenkind. Mechanically, Hill Dwarves are Hill Dwarves.
The Elves of Arannn are divided into four primary categories: the Sun Elves of Bastion, the Moon Elves of Luthin, the Dark Elves of Nocturne, and the Wood Elves of the havens.
Bastion’s Sun Elves are golden haired, green eyed arcanists, ruled over by a council of powerful mages, and are loathe to consider the younger races to be equal to themselves. They are largely irreligious, heeding the trinity of Elven gods, but there rarely a cleric or priest among them. They place their faith largely in magic and sorcery instead. Mechanically, Sun Elves are High Elves, without any edits or changes.
The Moon Elves of Luthin, called the Citadel in the common tongue of Adea, are quite different. Far humbler than their longer-lived cousins to the south, the silver haired, pale eyed Moon Elves work their own fields, tend to cattle, and worship the Lord-Maker Gyaal after the elven Saint Nimriel brought His word to Luthin. The Moon Elves, along with the dwarves, are humanity’s closest ally. Mechanically, Moon Elves are High Elves, but rather than receiving a cantrip from the wizard spell list, a Moon Elf receives a cantrip from the cleric spell list, and the Moon Elf’s Wisdom is her spellcasting ability for it.
The ebon skinned Dark Elves of Nocturne are not the classically repugnant drow of the Forgotten Realms, but they do have their similarities. Nocturne and its dark elven masters are champions of liberty. No spell is forbidden, no ritual profane, no intrigue illegal unless the will of the High Houses opposes it. At least, this liberty extends to dark elves themselves. Those dwarves, elves, orcs, and men unfortunate enough to find themselves clapped in the irons of the dark elves know no salvation but death in their chattel slavery. While the moon elves of Citadel and sun elves of Bastion may be ideologically opposed to one another, the dark elves of Nocturne are their mortal enemies, with a lurid history of violence against their brethren that predates recorded history. Mechanically, dark elves are Drow, but rather than Daylight Sensitive and Superior Darkvision, dark elves possess ordinary darkvision, and have no daylight sensitivity.
The Wood Elves of Arann are divided among a few political entities but are largely the same. Secluded from the world, they rule their domains and maintain strict treaties with their neighbors to prevent meddling in their affairs and with the forests in which they dwell. The wood elves of Sanctum and Haven maintain the most positive relationships with the outside world, but tread lightly in the woods of the moving city of Hallow, for those wild elves suffer no trespassers. The wood elves are not fervent practitioners of magic as their cousins, but their realms are protected by powerful enchantments that make them all but unfindable, save for by those who already know where they are. Mechanically, wood elves are wood elves.
Elves exist elsewhere in the world as well, ranging from Ciathay to Shayar to Ghirducania. For these, either the high elf or wood elf templates will suffice. The Dusk Elves of Jivan, for example, would use the wood elf template.
Dragonborn, as described in the Player’s Handbook, are humanoid descendants of dragons, or at least are thought to be. The Dragonborn are a disparate people with no home civilization of their own, but long ago, in ages past, a great Dragon Empire covered the entirety of Yvenlond. Long fallen in a titanic war, the dragonborn have since dispersed to the far corners of the world and can be found wherever civilization might be found. Few know of their ancient history, but some keep it still. The most stalwart of these traditionalists are the Yauviir, the Dragonborn paladins whose Oaths as Champions of the Light date back to the prehistory of the world.
Rather than being the offspring of man and orc, as popular belief and myth may have it, half-orcs are not half anything. Rather, half-orcs are a leaner, smarter, and more civilized subrace of orc. They are well integrated into society, though they frequently suffer prejudice and discrimination for their appearance and untrue but still popular tall tales of brutishness and violence. Half-orc tribes are peacefully nomadic societies, traveling traders and the like, though many half-orcs have abandoned this lifestyle and settled permanently across the Adean Empire.
Tieflings are popularly believed to be descendants of demons, but many scholars believe that such rumors are nothing more than legend based solely on an admittedly demonic appearance. Tieflings face great prejudice and discrimination in the world, and many cities have tiefling dominated slums. The rare exceptions are Shayar, where Tieflings are equal, and even often more socially valued than their fellow races, and Nocturne, where they are accepted by the dark elves as fellow citizens (if second-class, in the sense that there are no noble tiefling houses in Nocturne).
Faith is a matter of faith, so to speak. The gods do not speak to mortals, and clerics receive their powers through the power of their faith and conviction rather than through the favors of their gods, though they may believe otherwise.
Among humans, there are two primary religions—that of the Old Pantheon, and the nascent monotheistic religion that worships the Lord-Maker Gyaal.
The Pantheon is a loose assortment of gods, any of which from the various Dungeons & Dragons setting may exist. If you want to worship Kord, Pelor, etc., by all means. No list I could make would be all inclusive.
The Church of Gyaal, which has grown to be the dominant religion among humanity and among the Moon Elves of Citadel, is a monotheistic religion that holds that all of creation was made by one true god, Gyaal, who became mortal and spread word of His love and grace among his creations.
There are a number of other religions in the world. The Elven Trinity, for example, or the World Serpent of Jivanni lore, or Ashjatrayya of the Shayari. It’s a big world, but those two above are the most important.
Finally, here are a list of additional languages that exist in Arann: • Adean, the Common Tongue [If your character would receive the language Common, he or she speaks Adean] • Leosian, the Tongue of Arleon • Terlish, the Language of Terland • Low Vieric, the Tongue of the Viers • High Vieric, the Dead Language of the fallen Vieric Empire • Corscivan, the Tongue of the City-States of Corsciva • Etrycan, the Tongue of the City-States of Etryca • Pantoshi, the Tongue of the Petty-Kingdoms of Trepanto • Ghirducanian, the Tongue of the Ghirducanian Empire • Shayari, the Tongue of Shayar • Nuberian, the Lingua Franca of Onagal • Jivanese, the Tongue of Jivan • Ciathene, the Tongue of the Twin Kingdoms of Ciathay • Kindashi, the Tongue of the Six Cities • Telendi, the Tongue of the Sun and Moon Elves • Kelendi, the Tongue of the Dark Elves • Dwarvish, the Tongue of the Dwarves • Or’cat, the Tongue of Goblins, Orcs, Hobgoblins, etc. [Replacing Goblin, Orcish]
The most important of these is Adean, but you may find Terlish, Leosian, Or’cat, and High Vieric useful during your adventures.
As always in the Lost Realms of Arann, it's 27 Point Buy, First Level Characters, with max die health + CON at character creation. Use whatever character sheet format suits you, so long as it's accessible and readable.
After the limited run of Lost Realms of Arann: Northmarch, we’re rebooting the LRoA Universe with a more narrowly focused run in Lost Realms of Arann: Orzamar. The world has been refined, and we’re doing away with the open-ended West Marches style of gameplay in favor of a more traditional, narrowly tailored approach to the game.
In this game, you and your fellow adventurers will be thrust headfirst into a quest that will set the stage for a series of world changing events. I have a vision for this to be the first episode in a series that will tell a complete story. Here, in the border town of Orzamar, our saga begins with you.
Should this garner sufficient interest, I will post a new thread, starting with an outline of the world and what you’ll be doing in it, which you can use as inspiration for the creation of your characters. After that, we embark on the quest.
Feel free to join us at our discord here to discuss, and feel free to peruse this map that I’ve made outlining the world in which we will be adventuring.
One of the Mercers continued to spar with Durwith, curved blade in hand and threatening to thrust it forward, but they were beaten, it was clear. The other gathered their fallen comrade up and helped him to his feet. He groaned groggily as he was pulled up, and the two beat a hasty, if encumbered, retreat. As they cleared themselves from striking distance, the Mercer squared off with Durwith began backing off as well, and as soon as he was out of the dwarf's reach he turned tail and ran. The three thugs made off into the night, slipping into the shadows of Teres.
Their victim, the older man, struggled to his feet, supporting himself with an arm against a building wall. "Gods bless you, sir guardsman," he stuttered in between gasps, clutching at his ribs.
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