Fantasy Flight is hiring RPG writers and I don't live in Minnesota : (

Unnamed

Deep in a hidden cave far to the east of Logan's Hilt, two shadowy figures descended down an ancient looking stairway. Behind them came a taller figure, a woman in a crimson cloak and carrying a torch in one hand and a longsword in the other. She spoke in a hushed voice to the creeping figures in front of her.

"Are you sure this is where you saw the outlaw?" she asked.

One of the figures slowed their pace and let the light of her torch reveal his wicked face. He was an older man, well into his middle years, but he walked crouched-like and he was light of foot. Stolrin was his name and he nodded his head toward the woman. "He and his mates. We came upon them three nights ago and they had with them a dragon's hoard of silver."

The other man, Preston, stepped into the torchlight and whispered, "We followed them from you lord's manor, Marshall." A nervous look came across his face and he added, "Trackers, we are. From the Ranger's Guild in Lumbridge."

The Marshall showed no sign of mistrust as she listened to Preston's lies, but she cared not to walk into a brigand's trap and she kept her skepticism silent. "Lead on then, trackers. I have trust in the scouts of Lumbridge."

They continued down the stairs, which appeared to caved from the very stone long ago. The Marshall - Uthilia Rugosa, of House Rose, was her name - knew only a limited history of the lands surrounding her home, but she ventured that the cave was most likely crafted by the hands of the grauls of the North Range. She would have rather stopped to examine the fine stonework, but her task was at hand. The rogues that stole from Lord and Lady Rose awaited their justice and her reputation was at stake.

Preston and Stolrin took to the shadows once more and ranged ahead. The stairs came to an end nearly four stories underground to Uthilia's reckoning. Three tunnels ran in different directions, but from the northern route - where her guides were headed - Uthilia could hear laughter and merriment and a careless fire lit the stone passage.

Marshall Rugosa extinguished her torch and drew a long dirk to accompany her sword. Darkness swallowed the three. Uthilia could see the shadows on either side of her draw out their broad knives and her heart began to race. If either of them gave sign of deceiving her she was sure that either of her blades could meet either of their necks in the blink of an eye. But she placed in them what trust she could to carry out her task.

Silence was not entirely necessary, the rogues were obviously intoxicated and it did not look like they had a watchmen standing guard. Preston and Stolrin crept ahead now along the shadows of either wall; this relieved Uthilia greatly but made her nervous at the same time. She was the Marshall of House Rose and she should extract justice for these foul deeds. As they neared the cave's opening, Uthilia could see the camp. Their was an opening above that let the night air in and provided a chimney for the smoke from the fire. There were four rogues sitting around the fire laughing and spilling the contents of their wineskins. Uthilia felt her arms go stiff; there were two less than her guides had claimed.

And Preston's eyes were wide as he leaped from the shadows toward the Marshall of House Rose...

(to be continued?...let's hope not)