Chapter one: The departure
February 10 of the year 1500, early morning
Dear journal,
Today’s the day, I can’t believe that we’re finally departing. All our mules are packed with goods and supplies, and all the horses are saddled and anxious to depart.
Our destination is a nation called the ‘Imperial State’, located on the far side of the Snowy Peaks. Many rumors and mysteries surround that nation. They say that they have weapons there that spew fire, smoke and thunder at their enemies. Weapons so powerful, that even the best armor in the world doesn’t stand a chance against them.
Even though that’s the reason that our lord decided to fund this expedition, it isn’t the reason why I decided to go along. I’m not much of a fighter, I’m way too weak and feeble for that, and dying in battle is the last thing I wish to do. I’m a peaceful trader, one who can’t resist the urge of going off to some unknown adventure, and possibly get rich doing so.
I decided to write this journal, so that one day, I can tell my children or grandchildren about the great adventure that I’m about to embark on.
Anyways, I’ll better get a move on, the caravan is about the leave, and I doubt they’ll make 100 people wait just because one man is late.
March 23 of the year 1500, late afternoon
Dear journal,
The sun was already low when we finally made it over the final mountain pass, and arrived in the lands of the Imperial State. We were all so happy to have finally made it over the mountains, but just as tired, so the caravan master decided it was time to take some much needed rest. Scouts found a small lake not too far away, surrounded by steep hills and cliffs, so we would have water and some cover from the wind. Looking back, that was probably the worst place for us to set up camp.
We had just cut down a tree and started some fires to cook, as the sound of galloping horses could be heard coming out of one of the few access paths to the lake.. The guards that were accompanying us all readied their weapons, as a small band of roughly 30 masked men rode into our camp.
The Caravan master went to great our visitors, the first people we had seen since our journey began. However they didn’t reply to anything he asked or said and instead, whispered to each other. As the caravan master walked up to them and reached his hand out in a friendly gesture in an attempt to get a conversation going, their leader pulled out some strange looking pipe and aimed it at the caravan master.
The next thing I know, the air is filled with smoke and people start screaming all over the place. The guards tried to defend the camp, but they couldn’t do a thing against those terrible weapons. In all the confusion, I grabbed the Iron Staff that used to belong to my father and ran as fast as I possibly could, straight back into the mountains.
Unfortunately, one of the bandits must have seen me running, and came after me. I kept running over the many boulders and through the bushes that grew on the slopes, hoping that the difficult terrain would slow him and his horse down enough for me to escape. However this was not the case, and I could hear how he was gaining on me. I was nearing exhaustion, and with the bandit gaining more and more ground on me, I jumped behind a large boulder when I temporarily lost sight of him, and started praying he wouldn’t find me there.
It worked, as I could hear him cursing and swearing while he was trying to find me. However I couldn’t move or he was sure to find me, and judging by the sound of his horse, he was slowly getting closer and closer to me. I was so terrified and confused, that I just didn’t know what to do, but as he kept getting closer, my fear started to turn into anger. I thought, “If I’m going to die here, than at least I don’t want it to make it easy for them”. So I tightened my grip on my Staff, and waited for the right time to strike.
I waited for what seemed to be an eternity, but then, as I saw the horse’s head pass the rock, and swung my staff at full force as I jumped toward the unsuspecting bandit, whom I managed to hit right in the face. The force of the impact made him fall off his horse and he landed head first on a jagged rock, instantly cracking his skull open.
I still can’t believe I did that, that I killed a man, however back then I didn’t have much time to think about it as I thought I heard some of his friends coming. So I quickly searched his body, and found a map and some money which I quickly tugged in the pockets of my jacket. I also took his thunder weapon, and some strange looking tubes that were attached to his belt, jumped on the horse, and immediately started riding away from there.
After a good hour, I found this small creek where I rested a little while. I’m still here actually, writing my journal, enjoying the peace and quiet after a day with way to much excitement for me. So with this, I complete this entry of my…
Wait, I hear horses, it couldn’t be the bandits, could it, I better get a move on
Gunther running from the bandits, the snowed in pass where the caravan had just gone over can also be seen
March 24 of the year 1500, late afternoon.
Dear Journal,
After riding all night, I finally reached a small village called Hildesheim. Exhausted as I was, I collapsed just as I was riding into town. When I finally woke up in the house of the village elder. After we had some diner, the two of us talked for several hours about all kinds of things. I told him about my home, on the other side of the mountains, about the caravan and how we were attacked, and all kinds of other things.
Gunther arriving at Hildesheim
He explained to me that the ones who attacked me are called the gun toting bandits, and that they were a real plague in these parts, preying on helpless caravans whenever they could, killing tons of innocent people trying to make an honest living. I asked him why the lords of the lands didn’t do anything about it, and he said it’s because they are too busy fighting and feasting and don’t care about much else. Apparently, it’s the same thing all over the entire continent, not just here in the Imperial State.
I couldn’t believe my own ears, despite having such amazing technology like the thunder weapon, which apparently is called a gun, they are even worse off than we are back home. Bandits, lords that didn’t care for their serfs, wars…
It was clear that I couldn’t turn to the lords of this land to help me get back home safely, and I don’t have nearly enough skill to fight those bandits on my own should they show up again, nor did I have the money to afford to hire mercenaries to be my escort. Maybe I could try to find some business here in these lands, because when it comes down to making money, a merchant such as myself shouldn’t have to much problems with finding some nice deals. So, it was decided, if I ever wanted to get back home, with or without those weapons, I would have to work extra hard.
The village Elder was very helpful to me. He pointed me in the direction of L’Renouille the capital of the Imperial State, saying that it would be the perfect place to start up my business again, and the State Guildmaster would surely have a job for an experienced merchant. Not only that, but he also thought me how to use the thunder weapon I took from the bandit. He called it a ‘flintlock pistol’, strange name if you ask me, but I guess he would know that. So, after a few days of practice, I said goodbye to my new friends, and set out on my journey to return home.
Gunther’s stats as he leaves Hildesheim and heads out to L’Renouille
