Cross The Line (RPG)

Cold dawn clings to the frontier like wet cloth. The Bastion rises ahead—stone walls blackened by old fires, banners snapping in a wind that smells of pine pitch and iron. Beyond it, the treeline is a dark mouth: the Woodline, where scouts vanish, where ruins whisper, where the border turns men into rumors. Inside the gate yard, recruits drill under a barking half-orc veteran’s commands. A paladin with a braced leg watches from the steps, posture rigid enough to hurt... Sir X (A Human Paladin), the Bastion’s commander. Near the infirmary door, a woman in a herb-stained apron speaks softly to a limping soldier; when she looks up, her eyes are calm as a pond that knows your name. A clerk shoves a slate into your hands. Three postings are freshly nailed to the mission board: 1) “Woodline Recon” — Drake Steele requests volunteers. No one meets his gaze. 2) “Supply Escort” — wagons missing on the east road; Crown auditors are arriving soon. 3) “Ruin Echo” — lights seen in an old stone ring after midnight. The chapel wants it “cleansed.” Sir X finally turns his eyes on you. “Name, purpose, and whether I should assign you a bed… or a grave.” What do you say, and which posting do you move toward?