Never have I met such a strange group as this. Never have I had the course of my life changed than with this bunch of misfits, troublemakers, and blabbermouths. I say this having spent time with Dwarves.
From “The Curious Crimes of Yuvaulte” by Dax Weirdingg
Our adventure begins like any other would — with six people making their way to a village in the dead of night while fog creeps over the haunted moors of places riddled with fear. These six come from a small village not even marked on a map but one that is close to each of their hearts. Some know each other and share common bonds while others do not. what they all share is a task which is to procure holy relics for their village which some say is cursed.
The six made their way through their lands into unknown settings save for their musical guide who regaled the group with songs as well as the ranger who tracked various half orc dignitaries through these lands. The six were suppose to make haste to Briev, a small layover town on the Dragon’s Tail, and secure a ride with Lucas the Fair. The six did not make it to Briev until much later after their ranger spotted a party of half orc dignitaries making their way through the woods at an odd hour at night. Half orcs are more superstitious than most and would not be out at night if not for some pressing matter. Mak, the party’s shady elf dealer and one with a hatred towards the ruling class, encourage the ranger to take up some tracking for sport and made their way to follow the orc party. Wanting to not split the group, Ursula followed through the back singing a rousing night song of courage and spirit while the group’s muscle, a fighter named Moirenia and a seadfast gnome crusader named Flubrig trailed in the back trading stories of things punched and things they would like to punch. Further back, actually, way back was a strange looking druid, named Yodar who was eating various berries and leaves as well as calling for his companion who had wandered off into the woods. Morirenia was the first to spot the goblin scout on the ridge. Having dealt with various tribes of goblins in their home lands, the group decided to forgo the half orc tracking and make their way to Breiv. There is nothing good that comes from goblin scouts once they scouted you. The ranger was slightly upset having a strong hatred for half orcs despite having a secret he tells few regarding his family tree.
It was late but Lucas was still by the fire when the group came in from the chilly evening. Lucas the Fair was an affectionate name given to him following the disappearance of his nose following an encounter with a nobleman. Even though the six came from different pasts, they all knew the trials of being commoners in lands ruled by half orcs. Even though some of them had aspirations of one day playing music in royal orcish courts or battling along side some of the ravenous military elite in holy lands, the group knew the cruelty of power and things like the disappearance of Lucas’ nose was all too ordinary for these harsh times. It was late when the group finally disembarked from Briev – too late to travel these lands without complications.
In all honesty, the skirmish with the goblins could have gone worse. After being spotted by the scout, the local disjointed band made a plan to block the way of the travalers with a fallen tree. After the group would move the debris, the goblins would spring and loots the corpses. Thing did not go as planned as the 5 goblins did not expect the fascinating tune from the bard’s violin as well as the precision from the druids bow. The groups’ most tuned fighters, the ranger, and the gnomish crusader did not get a chance to christen their adventure with fight as they found themselves tripping over the fallen oak tree. What is important however is the group came out of the fight with little injuries save for the time when everything when blank and they woke up to the old gnomish crone.
They were all by the small crackling fire when they awoke and the aching of their broken bones was distracting but made them alert enough to hear the old woman’s voice. How did they get these injuries, these bloody noses. It wasn’t the goblins.It wasn’t the tree even know Flubrig was last seen punching the log in frustration after not hitting the goblins. It must have been the work of malevolent things unknown to them. The old crone talked and liked through her tarot cards predicting pasts and foretelling futures. She was accompanied by a male gnomish figure, younger but still older, who stood in by a caravan smoking a pipe and looking into the black of night. the crone told the group they were lucky she found them when she did otherwise things would have gotten worse. The group now understood as it wasn’t the goblins she spoke of rather the shadows which gave these terrible injuries.
“There are things which haunt these nights that would turn the bravest into scared children. Do not think you can trifle with unknown. Your wounds will be healed only this once but take advice and do not travel at night. I can see in your eyes that danger does not dissuade your hearts. This I can not change. Sleep now and awake renewed.”
The group wakes up by a copse of trees which lay outside of the high wooden walled village of Solenia. The bubbling sound of a river greets the group upon their waking which is the most pleasant thing in a world of gloom. It is as if the world has been sapped of color and the grey mists of dread now wrapped around every living thing. Solenia is at the foothills of the strange with the haunted moors at its back and the strange voices from Amon’s Woods as its neighbors. Solenia holds the items sought by the group but as soon they will find out, it will be the first stop on a long and weird adventure.