The Story so far...

[White Wolf]

The sky above is a solid grey. The crowd in the stands, hangs in stunned silence. The Orc leader you have all come to know as Gregor bends down and wipes his vardatch on the clothes of his victim, never taking his eyes off the group of you. His gap-toothed smile is as devoid of remorse as are the eyes of Mighty Marty’s now decapitated head devoid of life. Gregor sheaths his sword and with a self serving Hhe, hhe, hhe he turns and retreats behind the safety of his troops who used to their leader’s sudden bursts of violence appear unphased and ready to defend him should you or the crowd try an ill advised attempt at revenge.

The spectators disperse slowly and eventually so do the Orc troops, leaving the pit area empty save for you, Mighty Marty’s crew and his dead body.

Mighty Marty’s Circus was not so well named. Mighty ran more of a traveling pit fight. He had taken his circus from town to town entertaining the troops, Orcs, fallen Human and oppressed villagers alike for over 6 years now. Until today he had always managed to stay on the Shadow’s forces good side, providing them entrainment in large cities as well as the most remote outposts.

Mighty Marty had eeked out an existence better than most but what had been most remarkable about him was that he used his trips and traveling passes to aid the resistance. He had provided invaluable information such as troop movements, supply depots and who the leadership was in various cities, towns and villages throughout Southern Erenland.

Being a fair and conscientious manager he had taken good care of the people in his troop. Recently he had taken on a new pair of Dwarves as cook and smith to take care of his peoples needs. It was a poorly hidden secret within the circus that these two Dwarves belonged to the Dwarven resistance and were here to send back troop movements to their leaders.

But this was nothing new to the people of Mighty Marty’s Circus. Merado “Keldor” Shortleather had been spying for the Halfling for years. He’d taken part in a few pit fights as “The Tallest Halfling Ever!”. But Merado came and went as he pleased reporting to his clan whenever he had the chance.

What would happen now? Who would lead them? Maybe the new clerk that Marty had taken in a few months ago? He certainly was Sarcosan just like Marty had been. Marty’s real name had been Mikaheil but since most Orcs were unable to pronounce it and became irritated when you pointed out to them their short comings, even if it was with your own name, Marty had changed his to something more easily pronounced by the brutes. Everyone suspected this new clerk to be more than he claimed. His bearing and demeanor were more appropriate for court then for a traveling circus. But everyone was forced to admit that they now were being less cheated in trades and payments since this new clerk had joined. Everyone suspected he knew his letters but no one dared openly declare the crime.

Marty died today because his champion, his star attraction had made easy sport of the two Orc recruits placed before him. Gregor had wanted to show Orc power, but unwilling to commit seasoned veterans he had sent two of the latest recruits, freshly arrived from the mother-wife. In two lightning fast strokes the Orcs had lain dead at the Dworgs feet. Unamused and unimpressed, Gregor had approached Marty and with no warning whatsoever, drew and decapitated the offending Circus Owner.

Now with the crowd and Orcs gone everyone starts looking at each other, who will pick up Marty’s wooden sword, the symbol of his right to own slaves and run the circus? Will the circus stay together? Will it continue its invaluable service to the resistance? So many questions lay in the sand with the red, red, blood.

[White Wolf]

Garn Steelspear walked calmly over to the body of his former employer, picked up the sword and decided for everyone. "Here catch" and tossed it to the Sarcosan Clerk, Mikha'il Yazid. It seemed everyone was in agreement because all just nodded their heads and waited. It looked like Garn had done what everyone else thought was right.

Asgar prepared the body for burial right there on the arena floor. Mikha'il promptly got the group going. No need to dwell on things that couldn't be changed. Mighty Marty, already decapitated, was buried in an unmarked grave. Why not he did not have any friends or family that would come and remember his spirit.

Later that night, Mikha'il called together those he would run the circus with. Garn Steelspear, Asgar Redhand and Merado Shortlether were the three he called to him. Together they planed what to do next. Asgar and Garn revealed to Mikha'il that they had been sent by the Dwarven resistance to gather information on troop movements and other intelligence and have it sent back via courier. Merado also admitted spying for the Halflings. Amusingly enough this did not phase Mikha'il in the slightest. It was like he had expected this all along. Maybe it was even the reason why he had chosen these three.

It was decided to wait out the week in Hope as was originally planned and to move on after. The daily shows were held and the general business of the circus continued. At night Merado scouted the countryside. He reported back that Hope was a major operation for the gathering and shipping of wood for the Shadow forces. Asgar made a few contacts in the local criminal / resistance circles the main one being a shifty eyed fellow named Muhad. And Garn acompanied by a human chaperon scouted the village and managed to gather four recruits for the circus. One of them, a stable hand used to shoveling manure, he picked as this cook's helper. Another was assigned to help Asgar with the equipment because in the short time they had been together, Garn had quickly seen that work was not Asgar's forte.

After the week was over the circus quietly left Hope with the four new runaways hidden in their midst. On the second night just before setting up camp, Merado disappeared down a hole that was magically hidden from sight.

This hole was right at the edge of a deserted halfling encampement. Asgar, Garn and Mikha'ill followed Merado down and explored the caves found there, in the hopes of finding out what had happened to the habitants of the encampment.

[White Wolf]

The cave the group climbed down into had smooth floors, almost slick, like walking on ice. Light shone and shimmered from the walls, and the smell was like the wake of a thunderstorm. The room had 4 exits with a rumbling comming from the North....nope from the West. As the group listened the sound changed the direction it came from. The light from the torch reflected off the walls making various paterns.

As the group moved through the corridor, it slimed down to just two feet wide. The stuff on the walls felt like frozen skin. It even twitched when touched. Then just ahead the room opened up with a growth comming out of the walls. On a closer look the group noticed it wasn't a growth but a halfling with all but his face buried in the almost transparent material. His face was frozen in a scream of pure panic. His eyes were bulging and his jaw broken. There were others in the room too. None of them moved or made a single sound. All of them looked like they had died of fright.