“My eyes are weary, my body is weak, I need rest and food.”
This was the constant that Gorim Ironfist felt through his journey for adventure. Seven long days on foot for the determined Half-Orc to find the town of Bear’s Head. The monk foraged, hunted and survived on his wit, skill and rations until the gates of the town was in his sights.
“Strange, one would think that the front gate would be guarded.” Ironfist thought as he approached the gates.
The sturdy monk peeked through the gate and three guards shouting at a tall, gaunt figure covered by a hood. Holding his arms out as if he wants to be shackled.
“I shall do whatever you ask, just help me find my grandson!” the “man” kept shouting.
“Stand down, guard..Stand down.” Came a voice from behind the guards. A robed Half-Elf emerged.
“Take him to the Jail, we will deal with him there. This man was one of the founding fathers of Bear’s Head.”
“This man’s name is Cain, the Deadwalker, a well known Lich.”
Ironfist was intrigued by the altercation and decided to investigate further.
It turns out that Cain has asked the Champions of the Vale to rescue his grandson Quinn from the depths of the underdark. Quinn and his companions Tink, Kursk and Skamus were captured 10 years ago by drows in the shallows beneath Bear’s Head. The Champions have agreed to assist the lich (much to Laurentiana’s chagrin) in rescuing the group. Cain asked the group to rest, eat and be ready in the morning.