That’s life guards

Standing in front of their commander, the two gate sentries look determinedly at the floor.
“Yes Sir. Sorry Sir. It’ll not happen again Sir.”
The commander lets the colour drain from his face until it’s closer to its normal beetroot.
“I understand that it’s just six gold pieces, but it’s the principle of the thing. If we just let these things go, the Black cloaks will start taking a more active interest in our affairs… Our finances.”
The older of the two guards coughs and stammers more of an explanation.
“Calm down, I realise you were bewitched in some way. It doesn’t take a genius to work out these adventurers took advantage of you. The only question is why?”
Pacing around his office, the large commander stops and as if talking to himself mutters, “Keep your eyes open for this group of monsters. What were they? Two Tieflings - a male and a female, a Dragon-born, an Orc, a Gnome and a seven foot tall tall Human? Shouldn’t be too hard to spot.”

The Sundered

Orestes, finishes his business in Vornak and sets off after his comrades. Atop his horse, he thunders along the dusty roads, ignoring black cloaks and beggars alike.
It is with a sense of shame that he perceives the multitude of orc women and children lining the verges.
Of all the races to have suffered under the merciless claw of Thereanthor, the orcs have suffered the most.
After the Demon’s armies were destroyed and Fissa won, the Dragon came down hardest on them because they had provided the main armies against both her AND the demon.
All the surviving tribes were broken up and banned from reforming as anything larger than small groups of less than a hundred. Of that hundred, only thirty of them were allowed be males of fighting age.
The many destroyed tribes are called collectively: The Sundered.
Orestes knows his history; members of his family had been involved in battles against both the invading monsters and their diabolic armies.
What he doesn’t know however is how the orcs became so organised and who their leader was. He was never seen or caught.
After a few days Orestes comes to a roadside shack/shop. It’s easily and quickly ‘disassembleable’ and seems to be selling furs and animal skins as well as a few hanging meats.
There are several orcish youths hanging around, but it’s an older, larger one that steps out in front of Orestes and beckons him to stop and buy some of his wares.
“Buy some skins, my brother?”
Orestes waves the request aside and instead asks about the group he’s pursuing.
The grizzled orc Artors, snarls and spits.
“I ran into them. Are you looking to kill them?”
Orestes pauses for a moment while he considers the question and the half dozen, armed orcs now on their feet.
“Er… yes?”
With wishes of ‘May Gruumsh drink the blood you spill” behind him and some free slabs of horsemeat in his saddlebags, Orestes gallops on towards Gon Dulat.

Parting Shadows

He could see the slender woman sitting at the desk facing the opposite wall. Only a few meters and a quick kill separated him from reaching the next level in the guild. He had chosen to remove Chada-Ky from her position since she was feared amongst the younger members as the best on her level and this kill would bring him extra fame. He had never gone for the easy career moves! He adjusted his position carefully, fastened the grip on his curved dagger and, with a powerful jump, left his hidden position.

The bolt embedded itself deep in the head and started to tilt the body, which was still mid-air forwards. Just a second later, it slammed into the ground just a foot from the chair. Chada-Ky turned and looked up towards Niema who stepped out of the shadow next to the place where the younger assassin had appeared.
"Nice shot!"
Niema looked up "Thank you! I can't believe this guy really thought he could attack you after just a minute-long observation of the room. He didn't even consider the possibility of somebody standing next to him!"
The Shadar-Kai woman bowed down to pick up the dagger and place it on a shelf with an assortment of exotic weapons.
"Yes, the quality of the younger recruits hasn't been high lately. But this one should have known better! I taught him myself and he had potential, but he was always aiming higher than he should."
Niema started laughing
"Seems that your reputation is fading when these guys already consider you an easy target for career advancement!"
"True! But isn't that the beauty of our system? The idiots making those immature decisions free their space in the hierarchy rather quickly and you don't have to deal with them anymore. Let's just hope the one taking his place learns from his mistake. I would like to be targeted by somebody who poses a challenge for once!"

Niema looked at the small crossbow in her hand. It was carved out of matte black wood and covered in intricate golden patterns. "Indeed a nice weapon you have there. Perfectly balanced and I could barely hear the trigger myself when I pulled it. Where did you find it?"
"I found it in the weapons collection of one of my targets a while ago. He was totally into small crossbows and had an exquisite selection. I used one of his own weapons to kill him."
Niema smiled "I thought so. You were always into these kind of details! I have to get myself one of those! You wouldn't know where I can find another one?"
"Keep this one, I hardly ever use it. I'm more into direct body contact as you know!" She moved towards Niema and pushed the hand with the crossbow aside! "It's a shame we already have to part again. I wish I could stay longer, but I only have a small time window for the next job. Will you still be here when I come back?"
"I don't think so. I also have to leave and head back towards the realm of my own guild. There was no good job offer so far and maybe I should also use the free time to look whether one of the senior guild members is tired of his position and wants to vacate his or her space for an ambitious and good looking tiefling. I also have to see what my heroic group of travellers are up to and whether they also travel back. They are fun to travel with and seem to constantly attract training possibilities!"
The two women hugged each other tightly for a long time before Chada-Ky loosened the grip and turned her head towards the middle of the room.
"Would you mind giving me a hand with the body?"

A friend in need

Ghanash wakes up bleary eyed from yet another drinking challenge from Dokan and Orestes. Battle hardened warriors that they may be; they never can keep up with a true-blooded Dragon born.
After quickly licking both eyes clear, he rolls from his bed and notices an envelope posted under his door.
Without waiting to dress, Ghanash rips it open with the tip of his clawed thumb.
It’s a message from Vogir.

‘Dear Ghanash,
I hope I find you and the others well. As you already know, I left Vornak two weeks ago without word. Please forgive my rudeness; it was family business. I need your help. Bring the others to Gon Dulat as fast as you can. Book into the ‘Fallen Angel’. I shall either meet you there or leave word of where I’ve gone on to.
Don’t worry about gold; I’ll make sure you’re suitable rewarded.
Regards,
Vogir.’

Vornak... Today

The package goes from Highmarsh to Winterhaven, from Winterhaven to Lakeport, from Lakeport to Timbervale, from Timbervale to Stonefang, from Stonefang to Rottingham and finally from Rottingham to Vornak.
Vogir is surprised to get a package and hurriedly reads the letters inside.
Messages from family known and unknown, messages from friends and a message from strangers to his ancestor.
Folding the various sheets of paper back up, Vogir calls for his horse.

Three months ago today in Highmarsh

Stavro sniffs the envelope suspiciously. It’s addressed to his old partner Vogir but as he’s not here…
Slitting open the course paper, he pulls out its contents. A letter for Vogir and another, already opened, envelope addressed to someone called Mendez.
Stavro reads the letter, his lips moving as he struggles to decipher the ornate script.
Vogir was much younger than Stavro, but they’d been like brothers when they were smuggling together. He’d left nearly a year ago with the very same Dragon-born he’d idiotically got into a fight with outside the tavern.
A fool.
A heroic fool though.
Stavro knew vaguely where Vogir had gone to and so he sends word to find another messenger.
Writing a note of his own, he adds it to the bundle and stuffs it all into a fresh envelope.
When the teenage messenger arrives, he orders the young man to take the letters to Winterhaven and deliver them to Vogir personally.

Yet more treasure

Orestes gets the Sacrificial Longsword +3.

Vogir takes the Long bow +2.

Lucky Dokan gets the Fey-Blessed Circlet.

The remaining two adventurers: Rhudha-an and Ghanash get 500gp each.

Poor Indigo gets nothing as he's staying to help the Rottingham resistance.

Someone new's coming though to help us out in a non defensive way...

EDITED.