You will be travelling to an area known as Krakesborough, which is now thought to be deserted, on behest of the King and his venerable High Cleric Oberian. Oberian, after consulting ancient manuscripts containing fragments of history from the area once known as Krakesborough, speaks of the presence of a 'false God' in those parts , and that their may be blasphemers still about. The King, a broad shouldered, ageing man in his 60's with greying black hair has interest in the area as he would like to annex the property into his Kingdom. The area is purported to be a vast swamp of sorts.
You are local adventurers of some renown, having recently adventured together in a time-shifting area called Merlin's Garden
It is late Autumn, just past the harvest moon. The days are still hot, but getting shorter. The trees have mostly shed their leaves.
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You have been riding hard for several days now, after a holiday of sorts to the north in Bordeaux. The excesses of wine, thieving harlots of the quay-side taverns, and a dash of poor luck at the gambling tables leaves a bad taste in your mouths as you leave town upon recieving the King's vague message via a page. The page of the King wears high fashion of the times, a tight olive colored waistcoat, fastened by tags, and very close fitting green breeches. A wide shouldered jacket with the sleeves slashed, his maroon shoes armed with long metal points, and a conical hat, with turned-up rim.
Sleeping along the way in peasant's barns, ancient chateau's, and encamped in the hills - you have made good progress now towards the Capital City of Toulouse. The smell of decaying leaves from massive Oaks and beech trees being carried on the breeze. Immalor kills a field deer along the way, which you cook over an open fire and make-shift spit adding parsnips and leeks you acquire from a friendly peasant.
Now after following the wide northern bank of the River Garrone for some distance you see the twinkle of lights and smoke of a City up over the next few rolling hills. Spurred on by the closeness of your destination you ride your weary mounts on pressing them hard. A large stone bridge can be seen crossing the sluggish river, which you cross and make your way towards the Castle of Aquitaine and King Odo the Great. The structure stands massive against the backdrop of a star-filled night upon a defenseable hill.
You are let in past glaive weilding guards wearing light blue surcoats upon stating your business. The hour is late. A pair of polite young vassals stables your horses and ponies and leads you in to a high ceilinged vestibule/entrance room hung with massive tapestries depicting scenes of battle and hunts. Finally after waiting in stiff backed chairs for what seemed like a long time, an older pale balding man approaches you wearing white tights and a light blue checkered doublet. He greets you as the Chamberlain of the estate, Pierre de Craon.
"Welcome honored mercenaries. We are much humbled to be graced by your presence." He looks down the bridge of his aquiline nose at your dusty riding clothes, and tired, weather-worn faces "May I offer you a change of raiment and food or refreshment?"
-What are your actions?