Jack Smith

The armourclad man strode up through the centre of Millbrew tiredly as its townfolk busied themselves cleaning up what appeared to be the aftermath of some huge conflict. Broken creature carapaces and messy entrails splattered about hinted of a battle which had taken place between wild insectoids, and the more cultured, humanoid folk of this town. His armour plates ground over each other and squeaked as he headed for the tavern, a hefty greataxe slung over his shoulder. The sounds of singing coming from within the tavern and the scent of a warm meal drew him there almost hypnotically.
It was a friendly town he discovered, as he found himself sharing an ale in the tavern with some of the locals some time later, who were all too eager to tell him the tale of what had just transpired, and the heroes of Milbrew. He listened carefully and asked a few times casually what these heroes looked like, and which way they were headed, at last it seemed, fortune had presented itself.

Jack finally woke. He saw and picked up the little note that had been slipped under his door earlier whilst he had been sleeping. He opened the note and out dropped a ring which he caught with his agile reflexes. He held the ring between two fingers and eyed it a moment then proceeded to read the note. He sat down and grunted as he moved the note closer then farther from his eyes as he furrowed his brow, sighing in frustration as he slowly sounded out each word, gradually deciphering the writing. After some time, he finished the message and looked at the wall thoughtfully in reflection.
"hmmm...what'r you up to Ruddy?" he shrugged to himself a moment later, dropped the note and ring on his table and started getting dressed. "...I best tell the others"

//Jack informs the party and hands over the ring and note.

Early morning and the sun shone like gleaming silver over the whitecapped mountains as it slowly made its way back into the sky. The white snowcovered terrain glowed a beautifull, yet somehow forboding brilliant white. Snowsprinkled tree's broke up the view, and gave the eye the only reprieve from the relentless glare as the sun continued to rise, forcing the darkness back into retreat.
Jack trudged through the snow with heavy pounding footsteps, shots of steam blasting from his helmets vents as he continued his march toward his goal, the capital of Morovia. He'd been travelling for hours now, leaving his companions far behind sleeping in the night without a word of his departure, not knowing what to tell them. Another ice elemental ahead wandering through the snow, he stopped, rolled his shoulders and sighed, watched it a moment, then circled widely around it, using the terrain to shield himself. He had not time nor the energy to fight every creature that presented itself in this harsh wilderness, and experience taught him to always conserve himself, avoid exertion and choose only the most necesary of battles. The axe slung over his back glistened with frost as he marched on tirelessly with ever enduring discipline.
He figured he'd be only a few days at most, and would easily track the group down upon his return, should he of course wish to return to them. But the going had been difficult, heavy snows and countless wild beasts slowed his progress, and a near death encounter with a group of frost dwarves saw him halted for three days at the foothills west of Morovia. Days later, and he sighed with releif despite his difficult journey. Like a stifling blanket, the deceit he had woven about him to shield him from the Paramon folk could now be discarded, for he was a Morovian, again in Morovia at last! Of course, being run off farmlands by pitchfork wielding farmers and attacked by ravenous packs of winterwolves were all by the by, he was home. He smiled as he looked into the distance, down in the valley, the sprawling capital of Morovia. Muddy heavily cart gouged tracks led away from it and to the north in the fields, tents and minor reinforcements made from wood spotted the ladscape, made by the occupying Morovian forces.
He headed down into the capital. He was startled to find all manner of ice creatures, fortifying and occupying the city alongside his Morovian countrymen. Upon asking about this peculiarity to some locals and shopkeepers, he was informed that these were now allies of Morovia, as decreed by none other then the Duke, Lord Mikhail himself. This cultivated suspicion in him, for his former boss had been acting strangely before, and now this. He had done well to return and check up on things he relfected to himself.
Nightfall, and a Morovian guard stood stiffly at the rear entrance to compound of the dukes estate. A pebble struck him on the helmet and he pulled up his axe looking about as he snapped out of his daze. He saw a dark figure hiding in a bush near him. "IDENTIFY YOURSELF!" yelled the guard as he prepared for combat. Jack stood and casually stepped closer to the guard into the torchlight. "Take another step closer and I will take off your head!" warned the guard.
"Put a sock in it would ya Svent, I'm just here to look around."
"Jonas? that you" Asked the guard unsurely. Jack walked up to the guard and smiled. "..it IS you!. what in hells kitchen are you doin' back here?" Jack glanced about.
"The duke, i want to see him, i want to know what he's been up to? He been actin' strange?"
"Listen Jonas, can't let you in, you know that, i'd have to take off yer head. you @#$% nuts or somat?"
"The Duke Svent, tell me about him" said Jack as he reached around Svents neck and removed the key to the back door. Svent glared at him with protest but did nothing.
"Listen Jonas, if I didnt think somethin' was up meself, the way he'd been actin' with that new squeeze of his...well, you know." Svent complained as Jonas rolled up the string and held the door key in his hand.
"Good to see we're on the same page friend, whats this about his squeeze?" A short time later, Jack had the key in the door and unlocked it, it was sticky so he bashed it hard to get it open. Svent shook his head and looked up at the battlements above. "Im gonna get quartered for this i know it." he complained quietly to himself. As Jack slipped into the estate Svent called after him. "This is worth a keg of the good stuff Jonas."
"If I get out alive, you can have two!" Jack said over his shoulder as he moved into the door.
"In that case, five paces ahead, mind the deadly acid trap aye? I want that ale."
Weeks later, and after a problematic return trip to Paramon, Jack figured he'd find his old companions in once place, The old pig and hen. He had heard reports whilst in Morovia of a rogue paramon patrol, killing soldiers behind enemy lines and trecking back north from a westerly location. Elves and orcs by the reckoning of many, and he knew of only one such group that would choose such company. No doubt they had killed his countrymen which would not go unforgotten, but he needed their help, and in a peculiar twist of fate, they, the enemy of his people, were the only ones he could trust.