From the Score: Nasty, Brutish, and Short grog: Strictly, a warrior or guardian employed by a covenant of wizards for protection from mortal or mundane threats. Practically, various servants and assistants at the lowest level of import on the covenant grounds. They are known for their mortality. Amid the magic of medieval Mythic Europe, where shadows run deep and profound mysteries lure even the greatest wizards into danger, you are the line of defense between mortal perils and the magi. Your body - and perhaps your courage, training, and steel, but definitely your body - is meant to keep the swords and arrows and fangs of the world from breaking the flesh or concentration of your wizardly betters. While the most prestigious among you may carry shields to protect the magi from harm, some of you protect them from cold and hunger and the schemes of the mortal world outside the covenant. A covenant is like an abbey for a community of wizards. It's made up of masters and apprentices, books and laboratories, and includes all the servants and staff that keep the place in order. Like you. Your covenant dwells in something like a hidden castle in the countryside, near a village and a more traditional, martial castle. The world, out there, teems with wolves and monsters and fay tricks and angry rivals and suspicious priests. Wizards dare to learn about magic and the world despite all the risks to life and limb - your life and your limbs. The common folk don't trust wizards. Anyone who's not a wizard is probably common folk. You're common folk. But you count on wizards for food and shelter and a purpose in life. Right?