As so many things do, it started in a bar. ill-fated people in the service of count Bayzili Karkowski enjoying a night off until we were called into service. none of us were diplomats so it seemed clear that despite all the recent troubles we were not being sent to the peace summit because of our negotion skills. we were walking into a trap, and we knew it. a dead prince could not be ignored after all. so as nations prepared for war, we misfits got ready to go pull on the cheese. we left Loegaine with no fanfare and had little trouble traveling to the border. the bridge guard passed us threw quickly. because the empty country side meeting us in Emitamiti was a little unnerving, it was almost a relief to spot the other nations scouts watching us pass. the bandits we spotted on the other hand didn’t get that chance. after an uneventful skirmish we sent them away to lick there wounds, after all we have no authority here.