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A Change Is Gonna Come
The following morning, the three woke from a fitful slumber and entered the common room for breakfast, trying to decide what path to take from here with their faithful companions having been slain the previous night. In the common room of the Broken Mug, they met a trio of adventurers who had missed the call for the caravan escort from Thistledown by a couple of days (the very same escort where the original party had met) and which were now looking for other means of work. There was Blodae the half elf, who was appaarently a master of both the divine and the arcane, Dyran the elf, a hardy swordsman, and another half elf claiming to be a jack-of-all-trades - also named Drathus, interestingly enough.

As they talked amongst themselves, the quiet murmur of conversation in the room was broken by the sharp shrill voice of a young boy. This young man came running into the tavern, shouting and crying, running table to table begging for help from someone - anyone. Most of the tavern goers looked at the child with annoyance, and the innkeep moved to throw the boy out, as he was causing quite the disturbance (and she disliked both disturbances and - lest you forgot- small people). But the group of six waved her away, and with interest piqued, called the boy over to listen to his tale.

The young boy - Trevor Weylin was his name - recounted his tale in between sobs. He was caked in mud and obviously fatigued. He told the party he had run all night from his nearby hometown of Eliador, eight hours away, to seek help. His home was under siege by the walking dead!
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Tags: Recap