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It has been a long hard year of training, for some of you in the esoteric mysteries of magic, for some of you in physically vigarous arts of combat, for some, in the meditative learnings of religeon, but finally your instructors have deamed you ready. Today, you stand in the open air combat training courtyard of the Honath acadamy of The Guild of Heroes. The hot tropical sun shines bright down upon you, gleaming off metal and making the humid sea-tained air seem even hotter. Underfoot, the soft sand quiets the sound of shuffing paws to quiet whispers. Not that you can hear them over the bellowing of Angus Ongori, the combat instructor for this branch of the Guild, lovingly known(behind his back of course!) by his students as Angus Angry.

Angus is wearing his usual heavy plate mail, shined to an almost painfull glare in the harsh sun, the stocky mole twitching his war-gauntlet's spiked fingers as if wishing to drive them into the chinks of your armor - a pain some of you are all-too familiar with. He glares at you through the cross-slits in his spiked helm, his beady red eyes balefull and full of the hate only a teacher can have for his students.

"LIST-en up yah mah-GOTS! You ah pathetic sad sacks of drivel! You wouldn't last five seconds against a Zeril, let alone some of the monstahs you will shohly be killed by when we let you pansies out into the REAL wohld. Nevah the less, the head instructah sez you ah ready, so you ah ready. Do not disahpoint me. If you diyah, I will pehsonally deficate on yah grave! Getcher tails ovah to the assignment office and they will break you up intah teams and give you wahms yah fust assignment. Go!"

A quick shuffle into the cool shade of the courtyard halls brings you to the asignment office, where a plump and elderly rabbit consults the thick tomb before her before breaking you into four groups. Each group is given an assignment - you get the group with caravan duty. Not very adventurous, but an easy enough job that pays well. A quick stop to pick up the gear assigned to you for this trip and you are left loafing on the hard flagstones of the entry courtyard, waiting for your first assingment, while the rest of your class is off on some real quest.

Your party consists of:

Na'Nfr - an Anubian from far off Ceff, Na'Nfr is a swordsage. Although none of you know him very well, the standoffish tawny Jackal always got high marks, and even limited respect from Angus. He never socialized very much with the rest of you, but his quiet reserve practically drips with competence and dedication. He wears his usual leather armor and the artistically curved sword he brought with him, although the dark wooden "deathmask" he insists on wearing during combat remains strapped to his belt.

Marissa Hills hails from one of the towns surrounding Honath, way out where the hamets meet the jungle. Although outgoing and friendly(maybe a little TOO friendly with some of the better looking male classmates!) Marissa has never been very forthcoming about her past before joining the guild. Still, the curvey golden leopardess sorceress is a valuable member of your team. Marissa is wearing her usual revealing sorceress' outfit, seemingly designed more to distract a foe then conceal her ample charms!

Jaedan S'Rall was a farmboy before joining The Guild as a way to get out from under unreasonable debts fortune saw fit to bestow upon him, in the form of his addoptive father's failing farm. He seems an unassuming sort, simple farm life did little to teach him the complications of the city, but his year here has matured him into an honorable paladin for the Goddess Issa, and his training has taken his already impresive farm boy physique and charming ways and added significantly to them. Jaedan's chainmail shirt glistens in the sun, each link seemingly polished to perfection, his red and white and gold Hero's colors almost a uniform.

Mekie Stickifingers(as she has come to be known!) was an orphan before joining the Heroe's Guild. Rumor has it the curvey raccoon rogue was caught picking the pocket of a Guild member, and joined the Guild to keep from being punished. With her tight leather pants and customized chainmail shirt, the green-dyed raccoon always seems to be as much the center of attention as she can. The fact that she'll flirt with anyone, male or female certainly doesn't hurt that impression. Mekie lounges in the shade of one wall, her rapier and dagger sheathed, the coil of her long whip fastened to her belt.

The last member of your team, Vitanialinaise Sommermus insists everyone call her Vit, and with a mouthfull of a name like Vitanialinaise, who can blame her! Wearing a cassoc and a chainmail shirt, the short slim white mouse almost looks male. She carries the spiked mace of her God, Endymore, the chain on the butt emulating his own. On the dimunative female, the standard weapon looks rediculously oversized, but don't let appearances fool you. She's shown many a sparing partner that in her paws, the morning star is a dangerous weapon - even old Angus a time or two. Her current serene attitude belies her outgoing and friendly nature, open to those who know her, despite her past.

Some of you may be familiar with the others, some of you may just know them by sight, but all of you now have to form a coherant team, both for your own survival and the success of your mission. Although caravan duty isn't much of a mission...

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Those of my players who wish to roleplay, go for it. I will be posting again in aproximately 24 hours, so around this time tomarrow I will probably tell you to stop and wait for my next post if you're still replying to each other.

If you want to just wait until I move the plot along, that will happen tomarrow, around this time.

For those who are not part of the game, feel free to post responces to the art and how the game is going.

Anybody who has no clue what's going on but wants to know, click this link here.