Depths of Peril Site Update
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The Jarl stood in front of the hearth. His blonde hair was streaked with gray. One wouldn't guess at the futility of the situation looking at the dogged determination he held on his face. The crushing defeat promising to annihilate the barbarian race, and many others, loomed on the horizon. The vast orc and zombie army pushed against the borders relentlessly. They knew the brutal truth. The Jarl never tried to hide it or water it down. Yet he held a posture of conviction, of unwavering faith. No matter what it took, how long it took, they would find a way to survive.
The Jarl caught Rollo's eye and nodded. It was a high mark of admiration. (The trap is planned. Men walk the walls of the Old Keep, and the orc army advances. We need volunteers to lay the trap. The risk of death is high, but those who go have a slim chance of escape. Who here is willing?)
