There were two options to get to Scrapwall. The longer and safer way was to head south and follow the river, perhaps arranging passage on a trading ship headed downstream. Time was pressing, however, so overland it was to be. With their packs full and their gear prepared the team set out into the badlands of Numeria.
It did not take long to find why few dared travel too far out into Numeria on their own. Strange creatures roamed the wilds. Mutated humanoids, feral with pain and rage, and massive spined dragons whose shadow blocked out the punishing sun. Even the flora proved hazardous, when they accidentally camped in a patch of blood brushes. As the week’s journey wore on a new danger emerged. Raiders out of Scrapwall out patrolling looking for wayward travelers or hapless traders who had risked journeying too close. A group of such raiders set upon them, all riding strange vehicles that roared and screamed. They were swiftly dispatched but one escaped to warn the Iron Lords of their impending approach.
Scrapwall itself was just as it had been described. A three mile long walled junkyard town, ruled over by feuding gangs of outcasts and miscreants. Seeking a place to rest and take stock of the situation the group approached an old Crusader fort they had been told of nearby known as Aldronard’s Grave. Normally manned by a few members of the Mendevian Crusades to provide safe rest and supplies to the soldier headed north to the Worldwound, they were surprised to find the gates closed and the guards turning them away. Suspicious, they approached anyway and swiftly realized that the guards had been a ruse. A raiding party from one of the Scrapwall gangs, the Smilers, had attacked and taken the fort, and already eaten man of its defenders. After a quick fight the group cleared out the last of the Smilers and rescued the four surviving Crusaders, who in their gratitude offered the group the fort as a safe place to stay and rest before approaching Scrapwall.
It was that night while Kit was on watch that the name sake of the fort made himself known. Aldronard, a wayward Crusader of the Second Mendevian Crusade, had taken his own life by flinging himself from the steeple some fifty years before. In his grief and anger he had cursed his deity, thus damning his soul to a restless existence on the material plane. With Kit’s help and guidance he found peace, and was able to finally move on back into the rest of Sarenrae.