New to the Roll20 style of play, but would like to run the beginning of my adventure by some of my potential players. Hopefully I have crossed my t's and dotted my i's enough that it makes some semblance of sense. Country: Aria Region: Miralekoth Town: Llyne Month/Day/Year: 07/23/1403 Chaos takes hold as Levies and Tariffs imposed by the Duke of Aaesh restrict trade in the region. Whispers of an uprising are becoming an all too possible future, and the Autarch's forces have dwindled as the dissent builds. You and the group of adventurer's around you are part of the outlier force brought in by the Autarch. If the history books from school were correct, Llyne used to a major trade hub, and a bastion against the forces of Chaos. For the last few centuries it has been led by the Autarch, a fair and just woman, although her reputation says otherwise. Rumors now paint it as a relic of a bygone age, just a shell of its former glory. The foreboding black stone walls of the keep appear as you crest the hill. Dust plumes from every plodding step of your mounts hooves, and sweat beads on your forehead in the noon day heat. It is apparent that it has not been a favorable year for the farms leading up to the keep. Sparse fields and attenuated livestock flank the road, as thin children dressed in rags run along side your group. The black stone walls are even more imposing as you get closer, large stones, some larger than horses make up the structure. At 25 feet high and at least 5 feet thick, they are unlike anything you have ever seen. A pair of guards flank a large steel portcullis that hangs open. Black steel bars, thicker than your wrist weave a seemingly impenetrable gate. As the guide rides up and exchanges words with one of the guards, movement from the crossbowman above the gate catches your eye. He shifts his weight from one foot to another, idly leaning against one of the parapets, his heavy crossbow at the ready. On his shoulder a green patch with a white bird in the center mark him as one of the Autarch’s finest. A breeze carries some of the fine dust across the mostly empty square as you dismount. A young woman with scraggly red hair, green eyes, and a smudge of red mud across her forehead takes the reins. Her patchy blue vest and brown pants flap in the wind. "I'd go for the roast chicken if I were you, the mutton stew has some bite to it." She says as she smiles, a devilish yet innocent grin erupting. "Hay is included but oats will cost you a copper more if you wish, grain cakes as well..." Her voice trails off as she ducks into the stable. Removing your travelling bag and backpack requires some patience as the dust has worked it's way into everything. Dust plumes into the air while you struggle with the straps and buckles. As you heft the pair over your shoulder, you note the lack of remaining provisions. Yet another oversight you made. The recruitment bonus seemed too good to be true, but the few coins that clatter together in your purse suggest otherwise. Everything from cream to carriages was at least twice as expensive as you'd expected them to be. The stable girl emerges moments later with a handful of small wooden tokens and begins to hand them out. "Take these to Gwyllam in the Barracks, tan tent on the west side of the square, you can't miss it. He's the bald one at the front desk." She whistles an unfamiliar tune as she leads the mounts into the stable. The tokens are smooth to the touch and have an unusual heft. An elaborate R is branded into the tokens, the scripture appears to be Dwarven, yet has Elvish embellishments. The walk across the nearly barren square doesn't take long, and the sounds of training ring out from the other side of the tent. Just what have you gotten yourself into...