You don’t want to die and you know if you go, you will. You regret that you won’t be able to help your family out financially anymore, but you really don’t want to die.

You pack up all your stuff in the middle of the night and sneak away from the town your company is stationed in. You figure their orders are urgent enough that your desertion won’t immediately cause a full scale hunt, at least not by them.

The first order of business is to change your identity as much as you can. And head to a place where you can play for an audience, but the probability of someone ratting you out is low if you’re recognized.

The question though is where to go. You can’t linger in the Retlad Kingdom too long, in fact you’ll probably have to move around.

You decide your first stop will be at the Garwold Confederacy. It’s a relatively peaceful nation made up mostly of Halflings and Gnomes, with lush green fields and flowers. They tend to stay out of wars and they’re also known to appreciate the simpler things in life.

Eventually you make a place for yourself there in one of the small villages. You make a living playing at the local tavern there. Most of the patrons sense that you have some sort of past that you’re trying to hide from. But just like you thought, they don’t bring it up or say anything about it and just enjoy your music.

A few months pass and you’re happy. You even meet a pretty Halfling girl to be with, and now you’re even thinking about just settling down here, since nobody’s come looking for you; however there are alarming events occurring in the rest of the world.

The assault on Nuro was a complete failure. Everyone was killed from your company. It makes you glad you didn’t go, but the fact that there is now an undead city state has everyone worried. It doesn’t help that there was also an outbreak of demons. One particularly nasty one called Velzix has conquered the Tulan Kingdom.

Due to these events a Grand Alliance of nations has been created to stop these threats. The Garwold Confederacy normally stays out of such things, but they have agreed to send a militia as part of the aiding effort.

You don’t worry too much about it at first, but as a couple more years go on, the war gets worse and more and more Zalan Empire troops are passing through the area. Normally you’d move on, but now you’re married and you can’t bear to abandon yet another one you love. You still haven’t completely forgiven yourself for the first time.

You attempt to keep a low profile, but one day a Grand Alliance solider passing through, sees you in a tavern and recognizes you. Apparently he’s a citizen of Retlad and remembers you when you were stationed there.

“HEY! I know you! Man, it’s good to see ya! How did you get out of the army? I thought the Zalan Empire had a twenty year requirement plan! You still play that lute really well?” he bellows for all inside to hear. Unfortunately one of the other Grand Alliance members with him is from the Zalan Empire who’s a real stickler for rules and regulations.
“I know who you are too! You’re wanted for desertion! I’m placing you under arrest!”

You try to escape, but you don’t get far. You haven’t been keeping up on your physical training since you deserted, and coupled with your Halfling wife’s rich cooking you’re not in great shape anymore. The Zalan soldier on the other hand has been battle hardened in the recent months. He easily catches you and beats you into submission.

You’re taken back to the Zalan Empire in chains much to the protest of your wife, but its no use, you’re going to trial.

Your family is made aware of your discovery, but none of them come to try to help you. You abandoned them long ago and didn’t even try to contact them; as far as they’re concerned you died years ago. You attempt to explain things in letters to them, but you’re never answered. Eventually you give up.

The trial is brief and the judgment final. You’re sentenced to death as an example of all those who would attempt to desert their duty during war.

As you sit in your cell counting the days for your hanging, you find out from sad visits from your wife that things are getting really bad. Dead armies conquering kingdoms, demons running amok. You almost wonder if your execution isn’t a blessing from the horror that seems to be eclipsing the world.

The day comes when the noose is placed around your neck…

“Any last words?”

You have none; you just hum a little tune and close your eyes before the trapdoor swings open, and your neck snaps.