The Arch-Guard Arathus “Darkheart”, Marquis Scarborough’s right hand, is standing upon an impromptu stage of a sheet of wood thrown over crates and barrels overlooking a large gathering of an assortment of people. Professional soldiers, mercenaries and freemen of various sorts, warriors of mixed specialties, magicians and priests of all colors and beliefs.

“You’ve all answered the Marquis’ call to arms and you’ve all done it for your own reasons. I don’t give a damn what those reasons are so long as they don’t get in the way of discharging the duty you owe him. For some of you,” he pauses, glancing at a disreputable looking lot off to one side, “the debt you owe him.” The Old Goat nods stage right and a map of the island fort hovers where the group can study it. “If you can’t tell already, this is the Vapaa Tuuli stronghold on Valcrez’s Pointe.”

Arathus begins laying out the battle plan to the assemblage bit by bit, slapping down any questions, telling the questioner to ask his commander, whoever the poor sot that may be. “While most of you horde are going to be playing Devil at the Gate with these bastards and drawing their attention, a small detachment of you will be sticking your swords up their exposed arses. Who wants to be the lucky buggers for this? Hmn?”