The world has never been a safe place. Bastions of civilization populate a dark, menacing world—islands of order and reason exist in a land otherwise overrun by dark cults, vile monsters, creatures from the dark edges of the imagination, and worse. As deadly as the world is on a normal day, something has begun to stir on the fringes of the civilized Elsir Vale. Formerly the site of an attack by an army known as the Red Hand, the Vale has known several years of peace since brave adventurers stormed into the teeth of the approaching Hand and sent them scurrying back into the darkness.
* * * * * * *
The Antler and Thistle Inn is strangely quiet for this time of the early evening. The barman stands behind the bar, idly wiping it with a rag. Two waitresses drift around the room, occasionally picking up the odd flagon or mopping up spillages. A small group of three humans are gambling in a back corner of the room, a decent-sized stack of coins on the table in front of them. A young man sits an his chair, hunched over a flagon, occasionally shooting glances towards a young couple who are talking animatedly to each other, their drinks forgotten. Two old men sit at the bar, chatting about old times and better times.
The Inn is sparsely decorated, the prevailing theme being 'brown', although it does have a few splashes of colour here and there, once in the form of a tattered banner, displaying a faded blue field, borne with a yellow moon being grasped by a clawed red hand.
Your party has taken a table by the fire, simply to banish the cold of your journey to Brindol. Originally, you banded together out of mutual protection, but now you've decided to try and make something out of your life on the roads.
What do you do?
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Topic: 4e Scales of War D&D Campaign. (Read 1489 times)