Cast in no particular order…
AClockworkMelon - Cleric of the FSM
Hoopy Frood - Wizard
**Frodo **- Wizard
**appleciders **- Fighter (failed ranger school)
**ToeJam **- (known as Ishtar) - Wizard
**Oredigger77 **- Fighter
**Autolycus **- Thief
Wolverine - Cleric
Times are hard. About fifty years ago the People of the Mountains were driven out by an invasion of giants. The plains were poorly prepared for the influx of new arrivals, and there was strife and bloodshed. Even now the lands are unsettled and often lawless. Worse, the vile creatures of the mountain caverns are grown bold and often plague the lands of men. Some heroes help to hold back the tide here and there; others seek for lost treasure, either to trade to more distant, more settled lands in exchange for necessities, or simply to secure wealth and prestige for themselves in a struggle to survive.
Some are born to greatness; some achieve greatness through their own efforts; some have greatness thrust upon them. And not a few fail to qualify under any of the above headings, and are simply too muttonheaded to give in to despair. Such are the Fighting Ignorants, a loose assembly of underachievers who somehow know that if they only had the chance they could reshape the world in accordance with their expert judgement, and build a fairer, kinder, more just society on the ruins of the old.
Our story begins on the edge of a town named Sullwasser, near to the hostile foothills where the giantkind hold sway and foul creatures are forever abroad. Here a small detachment of the Fighting Ignorants are on the road engaged in the most mundane of errands, escorting a band of travellers to the nearby village of Kullen. The pay is low - enough to cover expenses and keep the wolf from the door for a few more days - but it is all they can manage for now. Before them the dusty trail winds for perhaps eight or nine miles to the questionable safety of the palisaded village, but it is for certain that they will all feel happier to have some stout timbers and seasoned watchmen between them and the terrors of the night. And it won’t hurt to get the stink of animal sweat out of their nostrils or the creak of wagon wheels out of their ears, either, or to cut the trail dust with a jack of sour ale.