“There you go,” says a warm voice above you as your eyes open up. Standing at the side of the cot, a dark complected woman with a white robe holds her hands over your body, casting a white light over you. “You are very lucky you got to me when you did. Another few short moments and you would’ve been too far gone.”

“More foolish than fortunate,” announces a snarky voice from the other side of the tent. You look up, turning your head slightly to find yourself in a canvas structure with several cots placed in a line. On each cot rests other victims of the attacks from the creatures of Loccaris. Some of the victims cling to life while others have already succumbed to their wounds. You look across the room to see the blonde haired man who slaughtered the demon with a single swipe moving toward you. He stands at the foot of the bed and looks over you, noticing the equipment you were wearing resting to the side of the bed. “So this is what Zilara has sent us?” he asked rhetorically as he points at your wounds. “He sends us fighters who don’t know how to step out of the way of an oncoming barrage.”

The woman standing at your side shakes her head in disdain. “Aertis, it’s not anyone’s fault they were hit by a barrage,” she says while changing the bandages on your chest. “Those arrows were dark and fired in the dead of night. I don’t think anyone could’ve seen them fired at them.”

Aertis scoffs while looking into your eyes. “Shyterria wasn’t struck by an arrow. Mykel wasn’t struck by an arrow. You weren’t struck by an arrow, Menassah. Quite a number of our soldiers were not struck by any of the arrows.”

“And they’re lucky to be alive,” Menassah counters while pulling off the bandage to show that your wounds were already healed. “The ranks of the Soldiers of Derrien will always need fortified by strong adventurers. Never take life for granted, Aertis. It always seems to find a way to continue.”

“I don’t doubt that, but I don’t know how much of a use I’m going to have for this lot,” he says before looking down at you again. “Once you’re out of bed in the next few minutes, come to me at the command tent. I have a mission for you.”

Aertis walks away abruptly, leaving you in the bed with Menassah still tending to your wounds. “He’s a bit rough around the edges, but you’ll come to love him, or at least respect him,” she asserts while pulling the bandages off of you and setting them on a small table to the side of the bed. “He’s a very gifted warrior and a talented tactician. He will be the reason that we repel the forces of evil from our land and keep those in danger safe from harm.”

You look up at the woman as she steps back and admires her work. “I think you’re going to be just fine. Go and head off to see Aertis. I’m sure he’s going to have some trivial job for the lot of you in that he doesn’t trust you to do anything meaningful.” You scowl as you sit up, feeling a tightening in your stomach as the muscles contract slightly. You place your hand on the spot where the wound was, feeling no sign of scarring or any sign that you were wounded. Your eyes open wide as you stare at your stomach. Menassah, still standing at your side, chuckles as she crosses her arms. “The knowledge of the Gods still flows through the veins of Dun-I,” she says with a warm smile while grabbing the pendant on her neck. “Embrace their knowledge and harness their power and I can make you this promise, you won’t need my assistance anymore.”

You swing your legs around, still feeling a tightening in your stomach, though it subsides over time. Menassah looks at you with a sense of accomplishment as you place your feet on the hard ground and stand. Around you, you see several other soldiers writhing in pain on the various cots, at least the ones who are still alive. Countless amounts of blood covers the ground under each cot from the wounds the soldiers suffered in battle. “Some knowledge is stronger than others,” quips Menassah as she motions for you to head out of the tent. You smirk and turn away from the bed. You walk past the cots on both sides of the tent and walk out into the crisp, cold air.

Dawn has come, but a vast amount of clouds are covering the sky. The peaks of the mountains to the west are covered by the thick clouds with the banners of the Soldiers of Derrien landscaping the area. Your chest is bare and the cold air sends a chill down your spine. Several soldiers carry their weapons and armor, placing them in small bins while trying to rest from the previous night’s battle. You walk along the path in front of you, moving toward a large tent in the center of the camp that is surrounded by flags and bins for weaponry. To the right of the entrance to the tent, you see four soldiers wearing silver armor with blue accents and a crest in the center of the tabard.

To the left of the path, you see Mykel, the man from last night who assisted you on the path, sharpening his two axes with a whetstone while sitting on a small, brown stool. Beside him, a younger man who looks similar to him is sitting against a wooden barrel, looking very worse for wear. His eyes are wide open and his mind is wandering. You keep moving along the path, walking up to the tent and pulling back the flap to walk in.

“Ah, there they are,” announces a young man with a matching blue crest on his chest. He walks toward you and his hand extended. “Papis Horrishek,” he says while shaking the hands over everyone who walks into the room. “Prince of Shorrek,” he continues. “It’s quite an honor to meet those willing to come to our aid in this time of need.”

“We don’t need people like this,” states a perturbed Aertis as he walks around a large table with a map on it. “We don’t need people who stand around and watch as the conflict escalates and his or her allies are falling to the sword.”

Papis smirks while shaking his head. “I’m sure they were overwhelmed, just like the bulk of your soldiers, Aertis,” he says calmly. “There’s always an explanation and if Zilara sent these warriors, then they must be of quality.”

Aertis chuckles as he looks over you. “Quality? More like desperation and a lack of options.”

“Sometimes a lack of options yields the most optimal results, because there is no one else to rely on,” Papis explains while defending you. “I think these warriors will be fine.”

“Doubtful,” continues Aertis. “However, I do have a mission for them that they might return from.”

Papis shakes his head while turning back to Aertis. “And what is it?”

Aertis hovers over the table with the map on it and points to the area where you’re at. “The primary forces from Loccaris have emerged and began their trek toward, where we believe to be Werz. They’re cutting off aid from Shorrek to the north, leaving only Fierrak to the West to aid Werz. While the demons who attacked us last night emerged from the quarry, they weren’t a part of the main force. I believe those were marching toward Sunshire in an attempt to fortify the river the connects Fierrak and Werz. We need to see if any of the forces of Loccaris broke away and headed toward Fierrak. That’s what these warriors Zilara has provided will be doing for us.”

Papis appears confused. “That’s not reconnaissance; it’s suicide.”

“It’s what’s needed,” counters Aertis.

You look at Aertis and Papis and nod, accepting that your next mission will be quite difficult. “I’ll send a few other soldiers with them to assist, and if these warriors come back, then maybe I’ll admit to being wrong.”

Papis smirks while looking you over. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you adventurers,” he says cordially with a genuine smile. “I do hope to see you again soon.”

You nod and walk out of the tent, back into the cold morning air. You make your way out into the center of the pathway when Mykel, the man from last night, walks up to you. His axes, located on both hips, appear remarkably sharp and lethal. “So you’re the ones going with me to scout out the roads to Fierrak,” he states with a coy grin. “Here’s hoping your a little more up for it than you were last night. We’re going to need all of you on your toes.”

The journey continues in the Scenario: Riverside Reconnaissance