The journey north is nearly finished…
The snow begins to fall more heavily, and the wind resumes its
plaintive moan. The teams struggle to pull their loads through
the growing drifts of snow, while the sky above darkens. Finally,
the lead wagon begins to ascend one of the hillsides, and the
broad walls of Bryn Shander come into view.
A guard from the tower hails your company, and as the
gates swing open the caravan lets out a ragged cheer. Slowly,
the wagons begin to file through, with the drivers in back
calling out impatiently as those in front pause to greet the
townsfolk who have come out to greet you. Suddenly, the calls
in back give way to desperate shouts and muffled screams.
The caravan is under attack!