“Pillagers stagger out of a pub in the middle of no where in a land forsaken by all gods. They stagger into the streets and even though their minds are numb by rum and ale they know something is up.

AMBUSH!!!!!

A horde of Khemri scumm come shambling into the hamlet square and a massive scrumm blows up.


Pillagers are running for the hills as once again the skies open up and rain a torrent of 1's skulls and utter fail upon their heads.


They regroup on a hill and look around...Morg, lays dead in the hamlet square, a feast for the khemri host.


As the pillagers move on to some other forsaken part of this land the rain cloud of nasty dice follows them just over the horizon.”