Being the adventures of two young men and one young dwarf, determined to make the world a better place. Because if they had more money, it’d be better, wouldn’t it?

Brashfools

It is the year 2262. Or something like that. Only the dwarf can read, and he doesn’t understand human calendars. So we just made that number up, to be honest.

Anyway, the Old World will burn, and burn soon. Soon the hordes of Chaos will sweep down from the troll-ridden plains of Kislev and… well, they will if we got the date right. Isn’t there anyone around here who knows the date?

Look, they do that anyway. Hordes sweep down from X and burn things, raping, looting, pillaging and so forth. That’s what hordes do. They don’t meet up for roleplay nights or a whist drive. They agglomerate, then they sweep. It doesn’t matter what the date is, they do this every few hundred years. This place is like a house of cards secretly wired together; it looks like it’s going to all fall down, with the Vampires, Orcs, Undead legions, Skaven and Chaos Hordes doing their sweeping thing onto the oppressed innocent races and their protectors, but in fact it’s all a great balancing act, a soul farm for the great powers of the world, pushing icky tentacles into the minds of a few heroes and changing the path of the world.

So anyway, in a dank muddy corner of this world, cowering amidst the resinous conifers of the Altdorf hinterland, are our brash young fools – and they’re lost…

Love, Grok.

Brash Young Fools

GriddleOctopus Quinns Sheret