Wandering Immortals

Are there immortal beings in this world? Sure, Maze Walker and Relsk are proof enough of that. Do they wander about? Probably, I mean even I get bored from time to time. But to think that there is some secret club of such people dedicated to keeping the world from tipping over the brink into destruction, that is a bridge to far. I mean its not like the gods plopped us down here are are just ignoring us.

— Jasper Cameron, Leader of The Bronze Ravens.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" The halfling warrior sat up with a scream. His eyes darted around the room in panic as he frantically patted his chest. Where was his foe, the last thing he remembered he was-
Stabbed
He glanced down at his chest seeing a large bloody hole in his breastplate. That proved it then, he was dead, this room must be some sort of waiting area of the afterlife. It did look peculiarly like the waiting room of the collesium, but that was probably just a coincidence. He looked over the room, noting a torlte in the corner as the only other
"That confirms it then, he's one of us. You want to give hime the rundown or should I?" a Minotaur suddenly standing over him spoke.
"Gods! Where in the Bloody Hells did you come from? One of what, Where are we? Why am I not in the Fields?" Goric Rumblebluff considered himself an unshakable person most of the time, especially compared to most of his halfling kin.As far as he knew, though, dying would shake anyone up, so he cut himself a little slack. Several more colorful phrases started to pour out of his mouth on reflex.
"I best take this one," the tortle said. "He is well and truly panicked, and you dont know what its like coming back like this." He knelt in front of Goric and drew his gaze with his piercing, draconic eyes. Eyes Goric now saw were similar in looks, if different in shade, to the minotaurs.
So the kobolds have it right, he mused, dragons really are the gods. The Fields are a lie, no eternal party, not endless mead, no perfectly cook rashers of bacon, just...
"Hey, focus. Lets be quick, we really need to get a move on. Are you listening?" the tortle asked, but Goric's eyes had once again started to roll around in panic.
SMACK!
That got Goric's attention, and as the hand came back in he caught it with his own. "I'm listenin now, so explain how this afterlife works since apparently all the priests have been spoutin shit me whole life."
"Ah good. LIke I said we are in a hurry, they will be here to grab you body any minute and it owuld be best if we are gone before then, Maze Walker will explain your absence one way or another. So, the short version. Youre immortal, like me, congratulations. Dont know how, dont know why. You are hard to kill, always have been by my guess, and always will be. Hard enough blows can put us down, a boar-spear to the chest for instance, but we will always get back up eventually. Hurts like a sonofabitch too. But the important stuff, there are more of us, we try to keep everythign from going to shit without stomping on the whole "Free will" thing the gods have going on."
"Lets see, what else is important... oh yea, Cysgodol is at war with The Fae Courts. That includes the vampires, which run a surprising ammount of organizations in this world. Besides all that there are occasionally incursions By whatever took out The Storm Giant Empire. Those like us deal with what we can while trying to help nudge people to make the world a better place. Like as not you're on of the ones that gets to keep their name. There are others that are more... mecurial, with their identity. That itch behind your eyes you get when your looking at me, yea, thats a sign your looking at someone or something else immortal."
The tortle stood up, pulling Goric up by the collar of this breastplate. "Anyway, you get to stick with me for a bit, we will get you situated and I'll show you the basic ropes. Now, lest get out of here while the big guy works his charm." He tossed a cloak over Goric and started towards the door, but the halfling remained rooted in place a panicked look returning to his eyes.
"Dammit, i knew we shouldnt have done this here." The tortle turned back around, "we will try again later, sorry for the headache." The last thing goric saw was a blindingly fast fist moving towards his face