And do not, under any circumstances, put OOC posts in this thread! That just looks icky and distracting.
Long ago, in an age when gods still roamed freely about the earth, barbarians from across the sea appeared on the horizon and attacked the Kingdom of Litawja. They brought much death and pain with them, but the Litawjan warriors fought valiently in their country's defense. They battled the barbarians back to the foreign land from whence they came. There, though, a trap had been set. Barbarian ships lured the Litawjan warfleet into a narrow straight surrounded by cliffs. Just as the Litawjans saw that they had no room to turn around and flee, enemy archers appeared on top of the cliffs, raining flaming arrows down upon the hapless sailors.
A few Litawjan warriors escaped, but now found themselves on the unfamiliar shores of the barbarian country--the Wastes of Jihalnidad. They were not attacked, for the barbarians knew that they had no chance to survive in that land; a hell of rocks and dust, burning under a merciless sun, where not even lizards crept.
The survivors trudged through the wastes for seven days before coming upon the ruined palace, once the captiol of a long-dead empire that had ruled Juhalnidad. Deep within it, the warriors found a shrine to a deity (which one is unclear. The many cults that litter Litawja each claim the shrine to belong to their patron god or goddess.) Adalardo, the leader of their party, prayed to the deity for three days and three nights.
On the third night, the deity appeared in person, and, seeing the group's sincere need, bestowed upon Adalardo a stone tablet with a map carved into it. This enchanted map could show Adalardo the location of anything he needed.
First, the warriors followed the map to the nearest nonhostile settlement. There they ate, drank, bathed, and resupplied themselves. They then followed the map to the fortress-city of Arghamman. This was the home of the barbarians' warlord, whom they found and slew. The barbarians, impressed and demoralized by this, ceased to war with Litawja and turned their attention inward towards their own nation.
Then, the party returned to the shrine. There, they used the map one last time, to show them the way home. In gratitude, they left the map where they had recieved it, upon the altar in the ruined palace.
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The Central Market of Adoad Komano was packed to the brim. Locals and foreigners mingled freely, haggling, conning, aquiring, and losing. Alún the Merchant weaved his way skillfully through the crowd, seeking the town center.
After a long walk through a sweaty mess of humanity, the street ended and Alún was in the wide, cobbled circle at the heart of Aboad Komano. The crowd was just as thick here.
The merchant sighed in lament as he saw a banner hanging over the doors of town hall:
Haveing only visisted this town briefly before, Alún had not the slightest idea who Saint Cadman was, or why he mattered. In any case, it seemed that some dead holy man had caused this to be a terrible day to visit Adoad Komano.
Sweaty and hot despite the cool autumn breezes blowing through the area, the merchant sat down on a miraculously unoccupied bench to think on what he must do. He tried his best to ignore the clown that walked up to him, making strange noises in a pathetic attempt at inciting celebration. The folk music being played from the stage on the far side of the town center--which was preformed using small guitar-like instruments called Salaphones--was not too bad, though.
