Auranghzeb
   The once glorious Barrera   
 


Barrera, once a thriving city of nearly 10 thousand souls and powerful guilds that leveraged the rich mines to the southeast, the dense forest to the south and the potent great river where the city is nested. Once they held the kings in a tight gauntlet, lending them the gold to wage their wars and selling them the weapons of their mutual destruction, Barrera grew as conflict washed Oreth. They even were the only ones to ever commerce with the lands beyond the steppe where the horse lords and their magnificent queen rule.
Now. Barrera is a wasteland, the home of the worse in the land. Victorious King Gudu, barely a teenager, swept the other warring kings in under a year and his army of loyal zealots, the black dogs, raided Barrera and put shackles on the guildmasters who tried to collect their debt of war from the young king. The city was razed and many were sent as forced labor condemned to a short life in the mines. Others scattered into the hills and woods and others tried their luck across the great river never to be heard of.
Then the king became obsessed with his steppe campaign to the east. That was 10 years ago. With the black dogs and the main force of his army tied to the east hundreds of miles away in a cam those who have seen it call it the greatest mirage in Oreth, Barrera an other towns have a measure or liberty but also with no clear authority, these are places of violence and debauchery. Moreover, monsters who were kept in check by the army or the guilds are now becoming daring, poking the weak social fabric of a city now in tatters.



 *** 

Your story starts here, crawlers.

It has been raining for a large part of the day, peltering rain with thunders that make the beast hide and lighting riveting in between the clouds. You had to stop and find refugee and a good part of the day is now gone when it finally stops. The ground is muddy and each step is choppy and clumsy. You still have ten miles to walk to the fringes of Barrera, to the slum in the south where you have heard some food and warmth can be found and where  Ottis Carbon  is gathering those who survived the  Black Dogs. 

At this pace, with this muddy ground, it will take you at least four hours. That means you'll still be walking when the sun sets, the night will be dark, with no moon and with these heavy clouds.

The only good thing is that the path ahead is quite literally a railroad, the abandoned rails of the mining carts pulled by mules that once thrived bringing the ore from Alen to Barrera. Follow the rusty red road...

 Day 1: 2 hours to sunset. 10 miles to go. 

Terrain is muddy, with severe overgrowth to the sides of the tracks.

Danger Level: Easy but the light is waning.

 Every rounds of posting is 25 minutes  This will be a convention but we can alter it as needed.

 
*** 
drack
Gregory stumbles for the third time over a rock, wiping sweat off the back of his neck with the back of his sleeve.   "Guys, I don't mean to call about ill omen, but I don't really like the look of these trees, it's already getting dark and they're only making it darker.  Lots of bad things tend to happen in dark forests at night, what do you guys think, should we pick up the pace or set up camp soon?" 
Ridai
Gralk is half covered in mud, but is driven to keep marching onwards, keeping an eye on the woods to their sides.   "Want to get out of forest. Forest hungers. Dark hungers."  

Gralk remembers finding parts of an arm of the seventh Wulf along the road during a transport. He thought about taking it along, maybe cook it over a torch to quell the hunger if all else failed. But the guards would have whipped and beaten him if he tried.
BelGareth
Calendula was tip toeing on the rail track, and chuckled at his companions winging.  "You humans, always complaining."  he said curtly. Pulling his cloak and a shaking the water off it, the mud at the fringe was getting worse, and weighing it down.
Ridai
The half-orc does not look back. These people are talking and not screaming, so they are still alive and not in the process of dying.   "Was asked. No overseer orders. No overseers to rip teeth for talk."   People from the Wide Open talk much. It will take a while to get used to this. And being able to speak whenever.

Gralk continues, boots taken from a body he couldn't identify anymore squelching in the mud.
BelGareth
Looking to the trees longingly, he sighs   "There is no overseer here my friend, but perhaps those trees  do  look rather sinister, perhaps we should investigate?"  