Princes of the Spocopolypse

The Adventure Hasn't Started

sick tieflings

Peredren sulked into his beer in a quite inn in nowhere in particular. With his shield leaned against the wall and his sword laid across the table in front of him, he brooded over how he was going to win back his family’s prestige and lands. ‘If something were to happen…or I could find some long lost treasure horde… perhaps slay a dragon. Nonsense, suicide. and it’s not like dragon slaying happens everyday. No I need an, opportunity.’

His thoughts were interrupted by the hacking and coughing of a hooded and cloaked woman huddled by the fire her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. She had been hacking for what felt like to him, hours. It was annoying and pitiful at the same time.

The rain drizzled on the roof, no adventure today. Who wins glory in a drizzle?




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