Late Summer, Year One in Her Reign
In Her divine wisdom Vault was taken. The precense of the Lizardmen was but the beginning of a conquest. When Hector and Totila arrived the City was already taken, but after a swift battle the Lizards were expelled from the streets. Still, faith in Tap, the Burning Soul lingers. The war has to be taken to Lent, and faith the false God must be extinguished. Thorismund will have much to do.
Bulrek agreed to serve. And so he will.
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Apparently the Black Rose was out of spirits, priests' orders, but that was no problem for a hero. A dozen couriers, recent friends and easily impressed youngsters ran away in search for liquors. Worse, the Voice was back. As suspected.
He moaned as the room became brighter. Two huge men entered the tavern. They wore ancient black plate armors and white cloaks. He instantly disliked them. He disliked them even more as they walked up to his table and demanded that the rabble around him leave. He quickly grabbed his bottle. The two stared at him disapprovingly, but didn't take it from him. One of them started to say something, but so did the Voice.
The next day he was on his way to Vault with two Black Templars and a slightly insane fellow leading five ghouls from the Keep.
Fortunately he had found three old friends, rangers of the balck forest. He had relieved them of their former duties. A privilege of being a hero.