Rolled 3, 6, 4 = 13 (3d6)
>>6006171They all seem very occupied with cunning games of horsemanship and trials of various natures! Intensive bouts of proving who rides faster, harder, smarter, who lances better, who grabs the ball while remaining in the saddle . . .
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>>6003572>>6003493>>6002809We find our first allies four hours easy ride west of Windchime Pass. The 623th Hailkissers, 4th Cohort, double-strength assault detachment of Raincatchers. Good people, reliable in a fight, renowed for good order on the march and a burly sense of humour off it.
They wave at us gently.
They'd have to.
They're swinging in the wind, hung from their necks from the sparse trees erupting like titanic javelins from the sparse vegetation. One of the 338th recognise them, not from armor or passphrase, but from the service tattoo carved into the chest above the heart of their formation-leader.
Died to a man and, judging by the wounds, died standing. Of their armor there is no sign. There is a supply cart, old heavy style, the creaking bit, but it's doused in some alchemical accelerant and was all smouldering ash by the time we found it. The riders must have stripped them of their tools and their kit, bound it to their horse and set off.
The landscape is quiet. The horizon is distant. The gentle incline west continues, a long pleasant patrol that heads perpetually down-hill. Try not to think of it as a metaphor
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