12:00pm, 1st of Pharast, Edge of the Stolen Lands:
It’s the first true day of spring in the Stolen lands, the sun is high in a cloudless sky and a warm breeze from the south heralds the death of winter. Riding hard for two day’s along the South Rostland Road has brought your small unit to within sight of its destination. Spread out to the southeast the Kameland plains are a sea of waving grass still brown from the now retreating winter, broken only by sparse stands of trees. Far to the southeast the green line of the Narlmarches forest looms forbiddingly. Ahead of you a weathered border fort sits atop a small hill about a half mile away.
The fort is surrounded by a 10 foot high wooden palisade. At each corner of the palisade is a 20 foot square tower with a ruined catapult atop, left over from the forts original use. It would look abandoned if not for a trail of smoke rising from a single chimney. A gravel path leads to the only entrance through the palisade on the south face. Two large gates, both thirty feet tall and fifteen feet wide stand open. The path leading into the fort is blocked by a tarp covered wagon and a large crate on either side.
As the unit comes within thirty feet of the gate a voice shouts out from the palisade.