You began your journey in media res. Leaving your various homesteads for your own reasons, you joined a caravan leaving the crags and peaks of Stensia that was bound for coastal Nephalia. Your miserable rain soaked journey ground to a halt in the winding passes of Blackcleave Cliff. Ludwig Stettin, the party leader of the Skiltfolk caravan, noted a greater degree of runoff on the rainy roads. This was no doubt, in his mind, caused by some kind of blockade ahead. Not wanting to lead his passengers into an ambush, he bade Anna, Rex, Brettville and Barnabus scout ahead to clear the road. Accompanied by the steadfast Jane Kingshead, white haired before her time due to an alleged encounter with a Geist some years ago. She was on friendly terms with Rex, and handy with a short sword.
What they found was an arrogant outlaw, of sorts. He seemed drunk, and guarded the road on his lonesome. But seemed to have had no trouble dispatching an entirely separate caravan that had come before you. He claimed his name was Lorenz, after consulting a card he found in his blood soaked breast pocket. This brute was no Lorenz. Nor was he even human, as doing battle with him revealed to all. The vampire spawn claimed Ludwig knew the score, and that this was a toll road. If “Olivia,” this vampire’s patron wasn’t paid homage, he threatened dire, if ambiguous, consequences.
After a tense battle, “Lorenz” was knocked from the cliff face and seemed to tumble into the abyss. But in reality, had fled. Overhead, a break in the storm revealed the full moon; which portended a different kind of doom for the evening.
One of Ludwig’s guardsmen and a fast friend of the party, Jane Kingshead moaned in pain and doubled over as the lunar rays washed over her. The party had scarce time to act. As Jane began to transform into a bestial werewolf, they set upon her with their weapons in fear for their lives. Before the final blow was struck, Rex saw a glimmer of fading humanity in her eye, and watched as she allowed his warhammer to knock her unconscious.
What followed was a tense argument over the fate of the werewolf who not an hour past had shared her flask of rum with them. While she’d been human, she’d been invaluable in the treacherous trail here, and saved two of the lives of the party. Would they now do her the same kindness?
It was decided that they would bind the pale furred werewolf in chains and hide her away from the road; and in so doing also clear the path for their caravan to pass. They left the carcass of a horse for the werewolf to feast on, and rations and clothes for Jane when she returned to her senses.
Returning to Ludwig, they lied and told him Jane had perished at the hands of the vampire. Believing their lie, Ludwig confirmed that the tithe to Lorenz’s master was real, but was paid annually in blood, not coin. In fact, one of his skiltfolk caravaneers had drawn the short straw for this baleful and dubious honor: A man named Frank Wanka, who the party hated for his ill manners and treachery at cards. Frank rejoiced, believing Jane had “taken the fall” for him. The party stayed silent, plotting their next move, and steeling themselves for the next stage of their journey: into the wetlands surrounding the coastal metropolis of Nephalia.
During the barge ride, a giant frog attacked the caravan! Rex threw the treacherous Ludwig into the jaws of the "Gitrog" to slow it down, and Brettville put on the dead man's wig, opting to join the shady family of Skiltfolk in order to repair relations between the caravan and the party.
Our heroes arrive at Stopgap, the swamp village used by the Skiltfolk on the way to Nephalia from Stensia.
Brettville accepts an indecent proposal, Eska furthers her ghoulish research, and Rex takes his revenge.