Rend in the slums [Monday afternoon]

In the mid-afternoon, Rend leaves the guildhouse and makes his way towards the slums. He stops at the tavern for a quick drink, then begins to prowl the streets looking for a some sort of Dhunian Shrine.

The trollkin have a simple shrine at the edge of the slums where the city meets the marsh. Much of the stone block streets have seeped into the mud over the years here. Almost as though the swamp was a living thing swallowing up the intruding industry.

The shrine is outdoors and badly weather worn. It appears that the trolls piled the ruins of a brick building into a 10ft pile, at the top of which there is a 6ft pillar with carvings written in molgur-trul. On each side it simply says HERO three times.

Trollkin come through, kneel to make a prayer, sometimes make an offering by placing a stone or chunk of ore to the base of the pile, and move on.

Rend attempts to stop any passing Trollkin, speaking with whoever would stop and listen.

"Stop." He would command, his voice deep and clear. "Are the Trollkin of New Katrena organized into a kriel? Is there no Fell-caller in our midst?"

An older trollkin with thick scar tissue on his hands stops and listens to Rend. With sad eyes he speaks.

"Granuf was our hero many years ago. He fought for us... died for us right here. I saw it myself. The poor young warrior was riddled with holes, couldn't stand on the one leg, but he kept fighting he did. Sheriff had to bring the whole tower down on his head to stop him..."

The old trollkin looks up at the pillar.

"We remember him in our quiet way now, but no one sings songs here anymore."

Rend remains silent while the older Trollkin speaks. He looks up towards the shrine, his eyes watching as melancholy Trollkin walk by.

"I am sorry to hear this, elder." He replies solemnly with a bowed head.

His sight rises, holding out a thick hand. "I am Rend Demmyr, a travelling Fell-caller. I have come to New Katrena at the behest of my employers. It saddens me to see this kriel so broken and I want to help."

The beginnings of a small creeps onto his face.

"They need a leader Rend. Our people our lost and defeated. Crushed underneath a steel toed boot. Look at the water south of their factories. They're poisoning our Mother."

Rend nods, looking back at the shrine, his eyes moving across the crown of runes.

"Who did this to Granuf?"

The old trollkin points north west, to where the Sheriff's keep is visible up on Old Castle Island.

"The sheriff. He came here with his deserters and his warjacks and forced us out of our homes in the northern part of the city. Devon Brisbane," he spits, "The bastard broke our spirit."

Rend spits with the elder, looking up to the keep.

"Mark my words, I will right this wrong. If you or any of our kin have any urgent needs, I can be found at the Golden Crucible guildhouse. May the Mother protect you, elder."

As he turns away, he stops, looking back towards the elder, "I need to acquire a charm of Our Mother. Do you know of someone who can provide me with one?"

The troll reaches into his cotton shirt and pulls out a small stone with the symbol of dhunia carved into it. He roughly yanks it, snapping the cord on the calcification on his back neck.

"You may take this. I see hope in your eyes. It would bring me happiness in my final years to see our new leader wearing it."

Rend takes the charm, "Thank you. I will not let you or the kriel down."

With that, Rend turns towards the Shrine. He approaches it and kneels, placing the carved stone in front of him as he offers his prayers to the Mother.

After a few minutes of quiet genuflection, he stands, taking the charm with him and leaves the slums on the road back to the guildhouse.