Worn into nearly indistinguishable scrawls by the salt spray from Lashava‘s tempestuous seas of Vorringheim, even this posted dictum on the wooden sign was largely ignored by the inhabitants of Sea Dog‘s Rest, an island outpost known to attract the desperate and the dangerous from all points of the compass.
Back behind a decrepit and mangled Tree of Life, huddled about the thick oak table in Captain Quint‘s broken ship‘s quarters there was an unusual congregation: a blue-skinned alfar as old as time, a hulking ancient minotaur and champion of Morloch, and a dark-cowled general of Oblivion - a vampire. Only in times such as these would you see three like this gathered together in what posed for the only neutral site in all of the Northernlands.
Kishijo the elven bard, Grimjack the ancient minotaur, and Malevolent the vampire leader of a recently defeated nation gathered in conference.
"We‘re pleased you could agree to meet us, Malevolent," Kishijo began, her thick woolen cloak pulled tight against the chill from the winds of the Month of Torvald the Strong.
Grimjack shifted his massive weight on the wooden bench that creaked beneath him. "The Tell will carry on for this Fragment, and the Nameless One will hear all events as they unfold."
"It is my pleasure," the dark being replied.
"You are the leader of a guild on this shard of Aerynth?" the elf queried.
"The Weapons of Mass Destruction, yes, we are a force of Oblivion, though our organization may be slowly....changing. We have found that existence on Aerynth has had many mutable effects on our kind. For the time being, however, we fly the White Shield of the Unholy Legion."
Grimjack, after having finished quaffing a flagon of Mordkessel bloodmead interjected, "The portents of the Destroyer are clear. Your guild has participated recently in a massive slaughter on Vindication. I will hear more about this bloodletting."