After an evening on the town in his finest regalia, Raktan the Orc Archer meanders through the streets on the way back to his hotel. The wine has been fabulous, the company splendid, and the food... words are a tool too crude to describe such magnificence.

With everything right in the world, a foul wind blows an evil filth covered leaflet through the streets. The leaflet, covered in mud and horse feces, is blown by the forces of fate through the streets until it lands on the well dressed Orc.

Raktan the Orc Archer peels the filthy, shit-covered paper off of his immaculate tunic. It has one puzzling phrase printed on it.

"Do you want to play?"

Raktan the Orc Archer sighs, crumples the leaflet into a ball and throws it on the ground. As he begins walking with determination towards his hotel, he mutters under his breath "I would like to play"...

Raktan the Orc Archer