Surely the old fort had a name when it was build and garrisoned. The various bandits that have inhabited it in recent years have tried to attach their names to it, but it is just “the fort” to those who remember the old garrison on the hill, now surrounded by enough scrub that you can only occasionally make out the structures through the bare branches of the trees in winter.
The current tenants pretend to be a small group of bandits trying to lay low. They send a few rough-looking toughs into town every week to buy supplies paid for with foreign coins that the merchants accept and look away. The actual leader of the small motley crew holed up here is Prince Eldwin Schlueter who is hiding from his uncle, regent of the Schlueter estate after the assassination…
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