<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong>The First Day</strong></span></span><br/><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/27/LODOSS_KarteAbenteuer01_Header.jpg)</div><strong>The Central Mountains of Lodoss</strong>sit in the center of the continent, a barrier forever changed by the cataclysm that split Lodoss from Alecrast thousands of years ago. Once an unremarkable mountain chain, the landscape has forever been altered; small mountains have been thrust up, now reaching for the sky like jagged teeth, large mountains have crumbled, filling valley with rocks reaching from small pebbles to boulders the size of a house. Steep canyons and sheer cliff faces turn many parts of the mountains into labyrinths of stone that can hide anything from ice-cold mountain lakes to long-forgotten Kastuulian ruins, from small verdant valleys where shaggy goats and wild sheep graze to the nests of the monstrous predators that feed on those shy animals.<br/><br/>Only a few paths lead all the way through this treacherous terrain, and those paths are known only to an even smaller number of people. Anyone wanting to cross the Central Mountains has but one real choice, the road that connects Novice in the north with Addan in the south. Neither claimed nor protected by any of the kingdoms of Lodoss, this road is where our story begins, on a day in late spring, almost five years after the War of Heroes ended in the final confrontation between King Fahn and Emperor Beld...<br/><br/><br/><strong>Mila and Anlaf</strong>have been on the road for days now, traveling south from Novice, first through lush farmland, then through the mountain's foothills, and now for about three days through rocky mountains. Each day's march has been long, beginning at the first light of dawn and going till darkness makes it all but impossible for the human priestess to see where she sets her feet. With no settlements along the mountain pass, the two travelers have slept under the stars, filled their waterskins from ice-cold mountains streams, and met less than a handful of other travelers, for while there is trade between Alania and Valis, both kingdoms are largely self-sufficient, trade between both states limited by a certain lack of necessity.<br/><br/>It is around noon when Mila and Anlaf round the side of a mountain, the road leading down into a wide valley and cutting through a field of boulders and rubble below. Grass and thorny bushes cover the ground between the rocks below, but it it is neither geography nor flora that immediately captures the eye, but a scene of chaos and confusion.<br/><br/>Down in the rock-strewn valley carts lie overturned or stand stuck in a ditch alongside the road. Half the horses that once pulled the carts have torn loose from their harnesses and wander around the valley, together with some mules. One horse lies dead on the road, arrows stuck in its flank, another is breathing its last, its legs broken in a mad dash off the road into the ditch.<br/><br/>The people who traveled with this small caravan have not fared any better. Two lie dead, pierced by arrows, one has broken his neck when he fell of his cart, others have suffered strikes from sword and club.<br/><br/>The smell of blood mingles in the air with the moans of the wounded, the latter drowned by the sound of hooves and armored boots clapping the road, sounds approaching from the south just as Milan and Anlaf make their way into the valley from the north.<br/><br/><strong>Marcus, Lynna, and Donwik</strong>have traveled north from Valis on the mountain road for a few hours now, accompanying a small band of soldiers from the border fort of Griffin's Nest in the southern foothills of the Central Mountains,  right on the border of Valis. While the mountains are beyond the border of Valis, patrols of the road are not uncommon, providing both reconnaissance and some exercise for troops that would otherwise just march through a castle courtyard or along a castle's parapet.<br/><br/>The patrol consists of a dozen pikemen and half a dozen bowmen, soldiers drafted from the towns and villages of this north-eastern part of Valis, lead by an armored knight clad in half plate riding a fine chestnut charger. This leader, one Arwin of Leomar seems quite the veteran of many battles if the stories he regals his traveling companions with can be trusted, but his manner also marks him as someone who has seen a good bit in his 50 years or so, his age showing in his weather-worn face and graying beard. But even this veteran falls silent, his face turning ashen at the sight of carts and bodies strewn across the barren mountain valley, only a few hours from a stout fortress that marks the border of civilized lands.<br/><br/>As the group nears the scene no doubt can remain that this was the work of bandits. Near the carts and pack mules that accompanied the wagon train, barrels and wooden crates lie smashed among the rocks, their contents spilled and thrown aside where they held nothing but bulk goods or heavy wares. Bales of cloth have been trampled into the ground, sacks of grain split wide open in the search for hidden valuables, the spilled grain slowly being carried away on the wind that flaps the slashed canvas covers of the merchant carts.<br/><br/>As the soldiers fan out and Arwin begins to bark orders, Marcus, Lynna, and Donwik can spot two people on foot approaching the scene from the north, one a young woman garbed in the robes of a priestess of Marfa, the other a dwarf. Only at a second glance you can spot a white eagle circling above, it's blue-tinged feathers hiding it well against the clear sky.<br/><br/><strong>Once the survivors have been taken care of</strong>and introductions have been made there is no doubt left. Bandits have ambushed the merchant train and made off into the mountains with whatever small and valuable items they could carry. As swiftly as they came, as swiftly did  the vanish between the rocks again, but some of the survivors can at least point in the general direction – to the west, down a narrow canyon.<br/><br/>Arwin organizes his men to salvage as much as they can and load it onto the wagons that can still be used, before he turns to the adventurers in whose company he has found himself. "I will have to take care of these people and escort them safely to Griffin's Nest, but by the time I can return here the trail will have grown cold," he states with more than just a small hint of bitterness in his voice.<br/><br/>"I am a member in good standing with the Merchant Guild, and my guild would certainly welcome if this bandit problem were taken care of rather sooner than later," the leader of the merchant train adds, a man named Derek who can only be described as fat, his age difficult to estimate but the value of his clothes certainly high.<br/><br/>And so, each for reasons of their own, five very different people set out to catch a group of bandits hiding somewhere in the mountains north of Valis, on a day in late spring, almost five years after the War of Heroes ended in the final confrontation between King Fahn and Emperor Beld...<br/><hr/><br/>How do you go about dealing with the bandits?