When Death Comes A'Knockin
Times were pretty good. The group had just finished a caravan run, all went smooth, everyone got paid, and all that was left was the journey back home. But things are never just that easy, are they?
The usual, sickly grey haze stretched across the sky. It was a flat, barren landscape, occasionally graced with the appearance of a rest stop made for ponies of ages past. Long dead, twisted husks of trees dotted the expanse of dry, yellow grass. It was quiet, peaceful, almost. The dirt road they had been walking along for the past 10 miles kept them in the right direction, and as long as they followed it, it should take them straight back, no problems.... right?
Of course not.
((OOC Note, no combat has started yet. Go ahead and introduces youselves. (If you want.) Things will start up by the next SW post.))