Age of Conflict (Pathfinder Confrontation Mod)

Prologue Act 1, Scene 1

The friend of a friend and the enemy of my enemy...

Narrator “After a long secluded meditation, the Cynwall Elders have returned from their mountain retreat, focused and sure of the next steps that they must take if they are to win this War of Wars. They decided to act on the signs presented by the cryptic writings of old texts from ancient temples long forgotten by the world of men. If they are to win, a truce must be secured between the prolific goblin clan of the Uraken and the Cynwall to bring them into the fold of the Ways of Light. A truce that can only be attempted by seeking direct council with one called Bazooka, the Uraken Daimyo. For this task, Prophet Tissel Vendule has been foreseen as being the one who will bring this quest success. This quest will cover many cycles and span across a multitude of other races’ territories so a heavy Cynwall Escort will not be possible. Instead, a small contingent of Elves will serve as body guards for the prophet’s journey. Without the protection of the Dragons, mystical constructs or columns of elven spears to protect them, such a small group will undoubtedly be open to brigands and opportunistic monsters of all sorts; it will not, however force a larger military response from the many lands that must be crossed and create conflict where none should be. If they are to succeed, the elves must heed the wisdom of the Prophet, trust in their skills and those of their family and be ever watchful for not only would-be enemies, but also friends hidden only by false preconceived notions and stereotypes.”
Tarathal Opparal – It has been raining for days on end. With the jagged peaks of the Lanever Mountain behind you, you feel somewhat naked without the ever present constructs guarding you or the watchful eyes of the dragons ensuring you are safe. Kataris seems unphased by your realization and in true Kataris fashion only looks to what is ahead.
“A tavern is ahead, the words are in Common tongue. We must be close to Cadwallon…”
“We should enter. We are all cold and hungry. Let’s stop.” Your child Selsi says through chattering teeth as he starts slogging through the mud to reach the warm glowing light of the tavern entrance.
Kataris looks to you “He must get that from me.” She states with a grin as she herself starts toward the lights of the tavern. The smell of humans and other humaniods even less hygienic fills your nostrils as you open the door and enter. The scene is loud. Singing and drinking is clearly what the patrons had in mind for that day, and probably most days you would think. Humans, dwarves, goblins the odd minotaur and a band of orcs currently reside within the spacious tavern’s bar section. Selsi picks out an empty table and takes a seat. As you look around you, you notice much of the ruckus is centered around the minotaur that appears to be in a drinking contest with a human and two dwarves with a goblin thrown in the mix but without a drink in his hands…


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