Walking under the arbor, the annoying beast of burden in tow, the halfling scans over the desolate lands that once thrived.
Iaaaaaaa!
Shaking his head, he ties the mule to the table and begins taking in the grounds. Weeds grow where once was well cut grass, dust blows where there had been fertile soil, and silence oppresses all.
What in the world happened here? Where is everyone? It used to be that you couldn't hardly plant crops for fighting over the plots of Union soil. Now...
He waves his hand over the quiet land. After a moment, he walks over to the board, wipes the dust and webs from it and scans the notes tacked to it.
Heh, not a change in...forever, just some members complaining about the absence of leadership. I guess that would explain the state of the grounds.
He kicks a dirt clod and walks over to the well, climbing up he looking down into its' depths.
Well, the water still smells pure, that's one thing. And the building is still in decent repair.
Sitting on the edge of the well he stares out over the lands, leaves blowing over the fields that have too long layed fallow. A steely look enters his eyes as he remembers the way the lands used to look with grain and crops so thick you had to follow set paths to get around.
Someone needs to do something. The guild apparently has fallen behind, lacking a strong hand and not evolving with the times. Yes...someone.
He sits there a while longer, deep in though as he stares and remembers. Then, hopping down, he diggs into his bag, pulls out a hand full of grain and begins shoving several into the land. Moving on to continue his planting, he continues mumbling...
Someone...yes...someone...
Union Desolation
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