They Return

Bleak Seasons
A Kalishtar, a Goliath and a Gnome walk into a campsite...
Enter the Players

Kidd – a.k.a “Mirth” played by Jennifer Bachus
Female Goliath Warden
Abandoned by genetic parents after hobgoblin raid lead to the foretelling of a dire prophesy, of which she is more or less unaware of the details. Raised by the Dwarves of the Mror Holds. Former goat-herder and low-yield mine site surveyor. Current member of the Black Company

Doesn’t like many people, but enjoys herself explosively when given the chance to do so. Tends towards dark or inappropriate humor, slathered in the necessary sarcasm. Possible unhealthy obsession with goats.

Nix Nim – a.k.a “Sleeves” played by Emmit Aimes
Female Gnome Rogue
Raised in an Isemish menagerie by her adoptive father and the circus strong man. Former acrobat and trick-knife thrower. Left circus life after mysterious attack and warning from her father. Current member of the Black Company

Real crowd-body, but doesn’t do well opening up on an individual level. Doesn’t like killing, tries to provoke surrender on bloodied opponents or manage to escape before landing a killing blow. Attracted to very tall people.

Torrent – played by Emmit Aimes

Nisnick the Black – a.k.a “Sparkly pants” played by James Crutcher
Male Kalishtar Bard
Raised in Runefaust as second-born son in Low House Raslin, attached to High House Madrasin. Former monastic assistant and self-taught scribe turned rebel conspirator. Rebellion did not go well. Currently in search of a way to revive the rebellion in order to overthrow the corrupt regime. Had a wife he deeply cared for, but due to mysterious betrayal is now a widower. Son being raised as solider with Madrasin youths, being guided by Nisnick’s older brother.

No longer a nice person, but used to be. Very concerned with impressions and appearance. Enjoys reading to the point of distraction from daily tasks.

First Session

Nisnick is visited in the night by stranger of obvious magical power. This stranger has an opportunity, perhaps the perfect opportunity for a man hoping to bring down a corrupt empire. This once in a lifetime chance may give Nisnick exactly what he needs to fulfill the revenge burning in his heart. He’s smart enough to be suspicious, however. He knows this stranger is leading him into danger, perhaps directly into a trap. Though Nisnick will not admit it, he is growing desperate. Dispite the risks, and the sheer audacity of the request, he knows he has the skills and the knowledge to complete the task laid out before him. The decision is made quickly, perhaps rashy, but it is made firmly. He will do as the stranger asks, as long as it fuels the fire in his soul.

The Black Company, an elite mercenary group, is wasting away. Their defeat at Hadin’s Bridge in the heart of Karrnath left little more then bruises physically, but their reputation lay dead in the gutter. The Greys, Imperial Soldiers of Karrnath, had them in a trap so blindingly obvious a child playing-tactician should have been able to avoid it’s gaping jaw. Yet the jaws clamped shut, the retreat was sounded. The Karrnathi Imperials would have crushed them into the dirt if not for the quick thinking of their new Captain. The stain remains however, that if not for him they would never have had to sound the retreat to begin with. As they say, the Greys are not widely known for their superior tactics, but in truth, the trap was blunt and clumsy. More a show of numbers then true tactical genius. The Black Company had been riding a winning streak spanning decades, partially to the bureaucratic wiles of their late leader, but mostly due to the advise given by his cousin. His cousin who now wheres the stripes his late blood wore. Perhaps they rode luck to it’s limit. Perhaps the old leader was the true genius behind the marvels. Or perhaps the full weight of leadership weights too heavily upon the shoulders of this new Captain. Whatever the facts, the news of their failure spreads wide on the wings of rumor. The Company retreats, tail-between-legs, to the trade city of Ore. Their they sit glumly, bleeding gold and sapping the supplies of the surrounding countryside. Three months pass. While the coffers still contain money enough to keep bellies full, the once burgeoning army decays more rapidly with each passing day. No longer are larders overflowing. The bottom of the barrel is in sight. What they need is a war, a patron to pay their way. No one is buying. Mirth is feeling the effects of the morale drain less then most others due primarily to the company of her pint-sized pal, Sleeves.


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