Wartales.v1.19852.early.access.part2.rar -

"We're low on salt," Silas muttered, poking at a pot of thin stew. "And the ponies are limping. If we don't find a blacksmith soon, we're walking to Edoran."

They weren't heroes. In this era of the Great Plague, "hero" was just another word for a corpse. They were mercenaries, bound together by the thin thread of shared hunger and the weight of a few crowns. Wartales.v1.19852.Early.Access.part2.rar

"Please," a woman whispered, holding a bundled child. "The guards at the border... they’re turning everyone back. Unless you have the pass. Or the coin." "We're low on salt," Silas muttered, poking at

The sky over the Tiltren Highlands was the color of a bruised plum, heavy with the threat of snow that never quite fell. Kaelen wiped the grime from his rusted hatchet, his knuckles white from the cold. Behind him, the rest of the troupe huddles around a meager fire—Dagmar, the archer with a permanent scowl; Berenger, the brute who ate more than he fought; and Silas, the thief they’d liberated from a pillory three towns back. In this era of the Great Plague, "hero"

: Visit the Wartales Mission Map for a list of current regional objectives.

Kaelen felt the familiar weight of his purse. It was nearly empty. He looked at his companions. Berenger adjusted his shield; Silas gripped his daggers. They knew the choice. They could help these people and go hungry another night, or they could push them aside and save their strength for the contract awaiting them in the next village.

A rustle in the underbrush brought everyone to their feet. Dagmar notched an arrow in one fluid motion. Out of the shadows stepped a group of refugees, their clothes tattered, eyes wide with a hollow, haunting fear.