Vae Victis: Kalmar
A city bigger then any other, rotten to the core. Evil battles Good, and Evil battles Evil.
Someone has to win.The elven boy struggled against the bonds that held him to the stone altar, eyes wide with fright...a tall, cloaked figured approached from the crowd surrounding him, the feral glint in his eyes betraying his sedate pace. From beneath the robes, a furred hand withdrew a wicked stone knife, and he raised it high in the air. The elven boy could only shut his eyes and pray...
The knock on the door woke the elderly dwarf from his bed, and he shuffled slowly over to see who was visiting at this late hour. He undid tghe locks, and cracked the door open barely an inch, peering out. The last thing he saw was a dagger pointed at his eye, before the blade was driven home and the door was smashed open.
The old tiefling sitting at the bar cackled at the youthful, hope-filled faces in front of him
"You want to do good? You want to right wrongs, and fix injustices? Do you ever intend to sleep, children? This is KALMAR. It would take a hundred times the number of adventurers you have, and even then the corrupt would find a way. Nothing worse than a monster who thinks he's right with his god, and half the inhabitants of this city prove that every day. If you want to do good in the world...well, I'd say get out while you still could. But it's even too late for that"
He gestured behind the young adventurers, at the thugs standing from their seats in the bar, and locking the door...
