I start as a hearthperson of the Poet of Paddling, in Brassnumber. Two other hearthpeople join me; Rimtar, a dwarven hammerman, and Nebo, a human macemen. They asked me to lead them to glory and death. The latter shouldn't be too hard. As we walk from the manor to the hamlet proper, I spot a bandit gang, composed of a hammerdwarf, spearman, and hammerman. I have a word with the dwarf, and apparently he is heading to Doorfists for work. As they walk away, the spearman spits at his human companion and says, "I hate you." Huh. Well, off to an adventure! We will head north.
We arrive in the nearby hamlet, Savedholds, where I see another group. The swordsman, who appears to lead the group, tells me they are in search of adventure. Nebo also tells me of a bandit camp, so I suppose we will head there. Unfortunately, it is around the mouth of the valley, maybe a few days' travel from here. Surely there will be more excitement on the way, though. I find another group in Clobbermesh, hoping these are bandits. Nope. Another uneployed warrior party. I travel further northwest, talking to various groups. I spend the night in some northern village's mead hall, as it is dark out. We should reach the camp tomorrow. I manage to jump across a large river, and I can see the smoke of the camp in the distance. But... what's that? Some people are leaving the camp! Not all of them, as I soon find out. Most of them are sleeping, but there are a few wrestlers awake. They are fairly friendly, so I suppose I will just take some gear and leave. We leave, and a group ambushes us! But is it the grasshopper people or the travelling lord consort? Tune in next time for the answer! (Maybe in a few minutes.)