Pangaea-world.dk

*A letter is pinned to the wall of Britain's First Bank*

Few years ago, a young aspiring warrior approached myself with a wish to join The Wayfarers. Like many of our recruits, we had given him our aid and guidance. He was enthusiastic of helping others and seemed to be kind and most of all a reasonable man. Someone that I quickly considered as a friend. The name of this man is Arthur Nox.



Last years have been tumultuous and the numerous wars that have swept over the land can have an effect on anyone. Even a Wayfarer. With a heavy heart I wish to warn anyone who crosses paths with Mr. Nox as his actions these days are quite not as noble as they once were. He currently associates with the bandits that vex the city of Britain and killing for sport seems to be within his current interests.

On the behalf of The Wayfarers, I'd like to apologise for not seeing the change in him and guiding him further to a more righteous path.

Sincerely,
Thoran Ravenwing
Guildmaster of The Wayfarers

The necromancer Darrol Argeledougal takes a good hard look at the latest news on the First Bank's bullettin board. This one particular message catches his attention. "Hah. Color me surprised! Won't you look a that. Some Wayfarer's gone rogue and joined the winning team, as they say", the robed man sneers. "Now he goes about pillaging and plundering the countryside. I've said this before and I'll say it again: year after year this goody-two-shoes guild attracts no one but losers and scumbags. It's a miracle such a shabby guild still exists."

"Oo, OoOOoO... OOOoO Oo OoOOOOOOooo oo OOO?", Sam the ghost remarks. A valid point, actually. Darrol seems uneasy.

"Yeah, uh... Yes, you're right. Technically, the two of us have been members of this guild for many years, but.. The thing is that we, um, we don't talk about it. It's nothing to be proud of! It's just that... Times are hard. They've always been hard, haven't they? Gods, would you please keep your voice down before someone pays attention to-"

"Pays attention to what", a cute florist girl asks. She has been standing next to the necromancer and his ghost minion all this time.

"Nothing! Nothing at all", Darrol squeaks. "H-have a good day!" The necromancer makes a hasty retreat, Sam trailing in his wake.