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  The cold wind blows from the west, bringing another cold and rainy night, an entourage of Achellan Nomads is traveling towards Inasmouth for the festival of 150 years of independence of the Kingdom of Igallyn. Merchants are bringing spices and trinkets to sell, a band of minstrels practices their songs and warriors are training for the tournaments. As the sun goes down a weak rain starts to pour, the entourage stops and starts to make camp, a good amount of barracks can be seen, at the middle of the camp an improvised tavern is mounted, most of the travelers gathers at the fire, the ale is poured and the meat is served while the minstrels sing and laugh. On one of the tables, two poets are talking, one of them holds an old book, the cover is made of red velvet and it's embroidered with golden symbols. - "This, haha, this is going to make me rich i tell ye, i've won this fucker from an adventurer in a game of dice. See? This is the symbol of the five, surprisingly old." says o ...

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