Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20150626145118/@comment-5543592-20150705224824

"Sure.  Pig-elves are keeping it nice and warm. "  The Breton grumbled, clearly not a fan of the Orcs.

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Our heros traveled through the desert, over mountains, waded in rivers, and crossed valleys. Eventually, the arrived at the border of Daggerfall, and were almot immediately surrounded by a force of guerrila fighters. Bretons in battered chainmail, covered in greenery and looking like they'd just come out of a hole in the ground.

"You lot are coming in from Orc territory.  Pretty ballsy of you." Said their apperant leader, a gruff man who had a jagged scar on his jawline and rugged looks. He also looked quite filthy.