((So are we going to RP every line of our character's slow descent into drunkeness or are we gonna sum it up and let timeskip happen?))
((Still statting up my mook level enemies. Will timeskip though.))
Night beforeThe barkeep kept serving round and round to the patrons and before they knew it, it was finally time to end the night. Everyone went to their respective rooms with the people they were rooming with, and soon the moon began to caress the skies.
Morning in ChilvernThe sun broke the horizon, letting it's warmth caress the cold town of Chilvern. All around, the village began to stir, the blacksmith hammering away at his anvil, the local hunters hauling in small animals from the traps in the nearby woods, and the church was already ringing it's bells to signify the start of another day. If it wasn't for the local wolf attacks, one could almost say the village was peaceful even in this deadly wasteland.
Syrgan was already up and about, sitting up on the roof of the church, over looking the forest to the east. Frost hung on the branches of the trees and a solitary raven flew above head.
Those that were not used to a Frost Moon would be in awe of a spectacular sight, high in the sky was the moon, nearly frozen solid with large frozen icicles hanging off of it, the very moon unmoving from it's spot,
"It's here far sooner than it should be...' Syrgan took a vial from his pouch, uncorked it and breathed in the entire thing. He did this twice more.