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<span class="mu-s">Many years from now, not far from home…</span>
<span class="mu-i">“Ah, what can I tell you of Nova Cathagi? That City of Cities?”</span> The bard plucks at his instrument wistfully, less a proper tune for the moment and more of an absent toning while he describes that foreign realm. <span class="mu-i">“A land of downtrodden slaves and heathen slavers, monstrous men, in turn ruled by a monster of unparalleled terror, aye and majesty too. Such terrible majesty.”</span>
The innkeeper places another bowl of tonight’s kitchen special on the table next to the wanderer, careful to do so innocuously enough to distract the bard when he’s having his moment. That’s when the patrons like him best.
<span class="mu-i">“They call it the center of the world, those pagan scholars. And perhaps, in a way, even to us that holds more than a grain of truth. It is, after all, where we come from. The land of our forefathers, the birthplace of those brave souls that went on to forge the Cantôn we know and love today. Not home, no. Not anymore. But there is some part of us, I think, that will always be drawn there to our beginnings.”</span>
A faraway look enters the storyteller’s eyes as he continues. The hushed crowd leans in, as enraptured now as they ever were even at the height of the bard’s accounting of the terrible storm during the voyage.
<span class="mu-i">“I have only been there once in my life, and for any Almighty fearing soul you can say that once is more than enough. But for the truest of the God’s faithful, it cannot be any less than once. At least once in their lifetime a Cantônian pilgrim should let their eyes behold that sight, that grand City on those southern shores. Terrible in its might, terrible in its beauty, terrible what man can achieve in defiance of God’s guiding hand and how even the great can be twisted to…”</span> The bard pauses in his reverie at a polite cough from the innkeeper, responding with his signature wry smirk and soft self-depreciating chuckle. <span class="mu-i">“Heh. I’m sounding more like a priest now than a storyteller, aren’t I? Enough sermons then, I shall say only this. You should see it, the City. Just once, if only to walk in the footsteps of giants…”</span>
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>Young Lord Damien Andrei, elder brother and heir to House Andrei
>Sir Robert Gilbern, the calculating Second Herald of the Ordo Reginate
>Sir Karlaus Rabe, the gruff Montbrun companion
>Sir Neil dan Marc, the loyal Sworn Man from Fallavon
>Tracker Jean, the Business Partner from the Wastelands
>Sir Willem Glasdale, the friendly protector of Grenmire
>Sir Karlaus Rabe, the gruff Montbrun companion
