“From the Office of the United Baatorians”
The red script letters stare at you just inches from your face as you wake to find the folded and sealed note that hadn’t been there when you fell asleep. No trace of who… or what… delivered the note can be found. You’re cautioned to open it but your wits convince you it’s safe, or perhaps it was your curiosity. Breaking the seal, you unfold the paper to reveal these hand-written words.
Dear Prospective Initiate,
It is with great pleasure that I extend to you this invitation to join the United Baatorians. As an organization, we offer you much that can be desired. Power, wealth, glory, safety. We live in a world that has grown increasingly imbalanced as I am sure you are aware. Power lies on the shoulders of the pious, preaching of the depravity of anyone who believes differently as they do. Wealth is controlled by politicians, promising everything but not having the stomach to do what needs to be done for their people. Glory is held by ‘saints’ that rescue kittens from trees and orphans from fires. And all the while people like us are hunted down all in the name of safety. We are led to believe that there is something wrong with us. I offer to you a chance at leading the way in reshaping the world in a more favorable light… or shadow.
We have watched you for a long time now. Invitations are not sent to just anyone. To say we are intrigued in your talents is an understatement. We have great hope that you and our syndicate can have a great mutual partnership. Our facilities can provide you with anything civilization can… and so much more. You will meet us at our citadel in one weeks time. The way will become known to you soon.
As your eyes graze over the last words, a slow fire consumes the words, leaving only a blank page. For whatever reason, you find understanding in these words. Perhaps you wholly believe in them. Perhaps you see an opportunity. Perhaps you’re simply curious. Whatever the reason, you lend yourself to the prospect of joining.
Over the next few days you gather together your belongs, few as they may be. You take care of things that need tending to, not knowing when you’ll be returning. As the days go by, no directions are sent until one day you get the strong urge to start walking as though something were pulling you in some unknown direction until you’ve found yourself approximately 100 miles south of the dwarven city of Centauri.
As you make your way through the mountains, you begin to see other people walking around with large packs coming from different directions all heading towards a single mountain. The look of confusion on their faces seem to match yours.
Eventually you all meet at a single place where the ‘pulling’ has stopped.
This is where our adventure begins…