Vanya slipped into the tent like a shadow, her ebon skin seeming to soak up the light given off by the guttering lamp hanging by a thin cord in the middle of the tent. The people gathered around the table were arguing, voices raised and echoing in the confined space as they circled the same issue, dancing around it it in a never ending waltz. Gifford was the most vocal, his deep booming voice drowning out the others as he finally slammed his fist onto the table, sending cups and condiments tumbling to the floor.

“Alexander asked us to do this! We cannot and will not fail him... but we must stay true to his ideals. We must trade and barter for food. Without it, our people will not survive the week.”

In the silence that followed his outburst Vanya gazed sadly at this merchants son. Gifford clung to his past like a shipwrecked sailor, unwilling to let go and be swept away by Alexander's vision. At this rate nothing would come of this meeting, another day would be lost and more people would starve. As the arguments began again in earnest, she slipped from the tent as silently as she had entered, pulling down her hood and letting her long snowy-white hair fall free over the back of her cloak.

She knew by doing so her message had been sent. Her people would come to her in the dark, keeping to the shadows as they slipped from the camp. She knew that the many who shared Alexander's vision had walked paths and would try to proceed in different ways. Some would seek to barter and bow to those in power, despite the evidence of corruption and self-serving they had encountered so far. As she strode towards the village, her brow furrowed in though Alexander's words rang in her ears.

“We must not be content to take the world as we find it but seek instead to make the world that we would find. Stay true to my teachings Vanya. Feed my people and keep our dream alive.”

She had word of a Merchant's caravan on the move not far from here, carrying food across the Border to the Forbidden City. They would take only what they needed and none would be killed intentionally, but Alexander's people must survive, they must!

Background

Where Alexander comes from is unknown. His accent is hard to place and he speaks a multitude of languages fluently. His voice has neither the edgy twang of the Borders nor the guttural rasp of the Empire. It lacks the soft lilt of Bretonnia and yet it somehow the displacement of his voice does not matter for when he speaks, he is capable of seduction. Not the seduction of lover seducing their beloved, nor the deceitful yet beguiling whispers of a conman or skilful salesman, but rather he seduces the listeners soul the way a God from the ancient tales might if he were to walk the world once more.

A little more then three years ago the man appeared, speaking in a small city to a small crowd. His words spoke of the past, the present and of a brighter future. His words were like honey to a gathering down on their luck and with little prospect of a brighter tomorrow. Every day they would come to listen to him speak, to soak in his message and to revel in the harmony of his voice. When he left he extended an invitation to the crowd. Anyone who wished to travel with him, who wished to see this future that he had revealed to them could join him now no matter what their past or present situation held for them. From a city that contained some two thousand people, fully a tenth went with him that day. From there he walked seemingly at random through the Old World, speaking everywhere that he and his small band of followers were welcomed. As the weeks rolled into months, so his following grew. People from all walks of life joined his group, nobles to serfs, farmers to thieves.

Alexander was true to his word, anyone could follow him and favour among this gathering of people was based on merit rather then birth. This fact turned many against him in the cities he visited and as his fame and his flock grew, the time he spent in each place diminished as he was run out of town by Nobles unwilling to loose their serfs to this so called beguiler. Yet each time he left, he took with him those people that had stopped to listen to him speak, no matter what obstacles were put in his way. Humans from the Empire, Tilea, Estalia, The Borders, Norsca and even Albion joined him, even Elves and Dwarves found their way into his care, why they were drawn to him they could not say, yet they were content and happy to be following this man towards the bright future he laid before them when he spoke, and happier still that he was willing to do anything to get them there.

It was during this routine of travel that Alexander fell ill. What it was that struck him down none of the physicians, clerics or mages could tell his followers, nor could they even guess at how he contracted it. Healer after healer came to see him and all they were able to say was that it was a wasting disease and he was gradually withering away, as though the body could not support the spirit that burned within it. It was during his illness as he lay racked by fever that his visions became real to him, that the future he saw for his people began to sing to him and after but a few weeks rest he turned his gathering eastwards and his speeches rang with the image of a great celestial dragon. As they travelled east, his people debated his words. Was the Dragon a metaphor? Was it a hallucination brought on by fever? In what way was this Dragon going to show them their new home, if it was even real.

It took almost two years of travel before these people who had become known as The Outcasts finally found a village that knew of an Empire that was connected to Dragons and many months after that before a village on the border of Cathay was able to inform them of the city known as the Seat of the Celestial Dragon . Yet as they began to approach the end of their journey they discovered an Empire collapsing inward upon itself. An Empire unwilling and unable to welcome them, an Empire under siege and running out of food. Appalled at the manner in which the friendly and honest peasants that he met were treated by the wealthy and the powerful, Alexander halted The Outcasts on the borders of Cathay in Northern Ind to consider his next move. He had heard rumours of armies descending from all directions and while he felt that this Empire was the place that had haunted his dreams, it was not at all how he imagined it. As they waited breathlessly for his decision, Alexander relapsed and overnight fell into a deep and fevered sleep from which he has not awoken. With time running out, the part that The Outcasts play in the coming war must be decided.

GM notes

As a player in The Outcasts you represent one of the leaders who have come to the forefront of this group of refugees and travellers, guiding and organising while Alexander recovers. You command some of the startling number of soldiers and fighting men that have followed him on his journey. As he has sunk deeper into his illness you have found yourself taking on more and more responsibility towards the people who have chosen to follow him Eastwards. You and your fellow players have formed a council to make decisions in his absence and as you finally approach the Borders of Cathay, your task is to carve out a home for Alexander and his people.

The Outcasts are one of the most flexible factions, it is entirely up to the players to decide which path they will take. Ostensibly a 'good' faction like the Order of the Dragon Shield, remember that Alexander is willing for you to use any means necessary to realise his vision. While his preferred method during the travel Eastwards has been speech and free trade, you have seen first hand that he is not above using the talents of his more secretive followers to achieve his goals. Unimpressed with how the Cathayan Empire has cared for its poorest citizens during this crisis Alexander would not be above restoring the balance of power through force of arms and gaining the heart of the people, rather than the Government. Think of Robin Hood in Sherwood forest. His goal was noble yet his actions in many cases were denounced by those in power. It will be down to you to make these choices for Alexander in his absence.

Cathayan eyes are fixed firmly on the borders and any force arriving without permission will be treated with suspicion so you must tread carefully. The child Emperor has the majority of Cathay's military might bogged down in it's heartlands and the Provincial Governors are embroiled in their own dangerous political game. You could elect to approach any of the Cathayan officials for help offering assistance of your own, hoping that a place can be found for you once the dust settles. Alternatively you could throw in your lot with the other powers of the land and try to find a home by any means necessary.

You must follow the vision that Alexander has laid out before you but how you choose to tread down the back of the sleeping dragon is solely in your hands.