16 Arodus, 4713

For several weeks, excitement has been building in Kenabres—Armasse is coming! Traditionally an opportunity for scholars and priests to come together to study the lessons of history from wars past, since Aroden’s death, this holy day has become more about training commoners in weaponry, choosing squires, and ordaining new priests. Over time, Armasse has grown to encompass jousting competitions, mock duels, battle reenactments, and other festival events. In Kenabres, the festival is eagerly anticipated, for it provides distractions from the horrors of being on the front line of the war. Smiles on faces normally marred by downcast eyes and furrowed brows do wonders for city morale in the weeks leading up to the event.

Armasse is a citywide celebration, but the majority of the event, including its jousting matches and other entertainments, takes place at Clydwell Plaza, just west of the cathedral. It is here that our would-be heroes find themselves, unaware of the disaster that will soon strike.

Take this opportunity to describe what you do during the festival; there are drinks and games, food and music, cheap and useless, but pretty, trinkets being sold for as cheap as 1 sp.

Walking majestically across the Clydewell plaza is a noblewoman with auburn hair in an intricate updo, grey piercing eyes, dressed in a black travelling cloak of superior quality, worn over a black attire with blood red patterns, clearly inspired by infernal symbols. On her left hand a golden signet ring of the imperial house of Thrune and tucked under her belt is a black rod gleaming with red infernal runes. She also carries some kind of expensive black shoulderbag.

The journey north to the fortified crusader city of Kenabres had been long and arduous to the young aristocrat. Lady Valeria Thrune had just arrived here as an envoy, all the way from Cheliax far to the south by the Inner sea, to learn first hand of the atrocities committed by the abyssal forces of chaos spewing forth from the World Wound. Her last stop of civilization, if that is what these celebrations could be called, before somehow finding her way to the front. The holy crusaders of Iomedae had thus far given her a wide berth though and the real purpose of her partaking of the festivities is to find others less entrenched in the crusader dogmatics for travel company, keeping her grey eyes constantly scanning the festivities for potential prospects.

"Home," Hyacinth sighed wistfully.  The festivities brought forth several memories and feelings, some good, many bad. Kenabres was her city, her home, regardless of what others had said; the sights, the smells, the sounds stirred something deep within her.  She drew her cloak in around her, more of an attempt to conceal her face than for warmth.  It had been a 'gift', a sign of her belonging to an organisation greater than herself - she was unused to such finery.

Walking along the familiar roads, Hyacinth found herself becoming increasingly more self-conscious. She was used to attracting all manner of stares and gawps. She pushed the feelings to the back of her mind and clenched her fists. "Kenabres is my home," she told herself stubbornly, determined to enjoy this year's Armasse.

She had always enjoyed the yearly festivities - particularly the jousting, which made her feel deeply exhilarated.  Besides, it tended to attract all sorts of interesting individuals.  She moved between stalls now, peddlers selling all types of wares, most of it cheap and tacky but colourful nonetheless.  The chaos they created felt wonderful - she found herself getting caught up in the crowd.

Hyacinth saw them then.  Pious priests and saintly scholars, she felt judged even though none of them had so much as made eye contact.  An intense loathing filled her then, anger based on years of hurt.  Holding back tears she thought of her mother; how young she had been, a wonderful light snuffed out years ago.  She turned away then, had to. Fearful of what her next action might be.  But that had been a different life, one she had left behind.

She bit her lip and moved away, pushing against the crowd, eager to escape.

The imposing tiefling moved through the crowd like a man on a mission. While the martial activities and training were positive things for the crusade, he did not approve of the overall carnival and "fun" activities he was surrounded by.  Over 6 foot tall, broad shouldered and muscular, the tiefling's red-skinned body was covered by a well worn, utilitarian set of chain mail, covered by a worn, but well-mended traveler's cloak.  A newcomer to the city, he longed for the spices of his home. He stood in an intersection, scanning the stalls for the vendor he sought, when a small child ran into him, falling down, breaking the toy knight he was playing with.  The child's father start complaining to Justice, who stared him down, "Your offspring ran into me.  He should watch where he is going.  Go away now." He even juiced that last word with thaumaturgy for emphasis.

He then moved to the vendoir he saw from his homeland, and purchased the spiced lizard treat he sought.

 Valeria's eyes widen as she notices a tiefling, a familiar sight to her, but here, standing out as, well, a tiefling in Kenabres. "Pardon me Sir Knight, I have travelled all the way from Cheliax to visit the Worldwound, and I am looking for a competent escort for the last leg of my journey. You look like a man who would not let prejudice cloud your judgement. Would you consider aiding me with my mission for a reasonable fee?" Valeria says as she approaches the imposing tiefling.

"Awfully quick to assume I'd be accepting of a Chelaxian devil-worshipper, aren't you. Seems like you bear your own prejudices. I do not trade my services for money, nor do I prostrate myself before great lords as knights are wont to do. I am a warrior blessed and beholden to Iomedae herself, charged with ridding the world of fiendish influence. My immediate concern is the Worldwound and it's demons. You may walk beside me if you wish, but if your goals are not aligned, I will turn on you. Devils rank only slightly better in my eyes."

"Excellent. A strong warrior not bowing to the corruption of politics and true to his cause to seal the World Wound. I could ask for nothing else. I can assure you our goals align. The Blood War is the oldest war known and the defeat of the chaos of the World Wound is, or should be, a concern for all of Golarion. It will be my genuine pleasure to walk beside you. I am Lady Valeria Thrune, but as titles won't do me any good by the World Wound you can call me Valeria. By what name shall I know you warrior?" Valeria says sincerely.

"My name is Justice."

"A most suitable name Justice, I will enjoy watching you exact it on the vile demons spawned by the World Wound. I am ready to leave when you are. I just have one other matter to take care of first." Valeria says and turns to find that other out-of-place character she saw just earlier. A cloaked person trying to hide in the midst of knights in shining armor. Could that be the second escort she needed. She moved swiftly through the crowd trying to intercept the cloaked figure. 

"Pardon me Sir, I have travelled far to visit the Worldwound, and I am looking for a second escort for the last leg of my journey. You look like someone not tied in the service of the lords of Kenabres. Would you consider aiding me with my mission, for a reasonable fee?" Valeria says as she approaches the cloaked figure.

"Sir?"  Hyacinth said, still hiding behind her cloak, "Well, that's the first time someone has called me 'sir'."  It was not the first time someone had approached her offering a 'mission' with all sorts of monetary compensation.  Her eye's narrowed a little, "What would this 'mission' entail and how much is a 'reasonable fee'," she asked cautiously.

Remember last time - the thought popped into her head.  She remembered the last time someone had made similar promises to her; that had landed her in prison, she was not eager to repeat the process.

"It would entail escorting myself to the World Wound frontline, and what is a reasonable fee would rather be for you to decide, but I admit my funds are running low so my offer is 10 pieces of gold." Valeria says to the still cloaked person. "By what name shall I know you Sir?"