Ikar Eyegore, (or, in his native tongue, "Apeodang") The premiere optician of the land, found himself drawn to adventure.
Well, actually pushed to adventure. Driven, perhaps. And perhaps instead of "to adventure", a phrase along the lines of "out of his homeland by hordes of blinded patients wielding flaming torches with a fury that more than made up for their inaccuracy" would be more accurate.
This is because so far as the term "premiere optician" was concerned, premiere meant much less about being best and much more about being first. Optometry was a young science; indeed, Eyegore had invented it only a few days ago.
Ikar, despite his lack of official training and personal hygiene, was a trendsetter of the medical and optical arts; indeed, 100% of the medical professionals he knew about swore by the "Apeodangal Oath": First, do no work without ensuring payment; Two, always remove the injured limb and/or organ; Three, Do not delay in moving to the next village.
Of course, Eyegore put it more simply; "Take 'em money, then chop out the part that's green. Then run!"
Ikar Eyegore, Malevolent Optician, wandered on. Eventually, we stumbled into the distant, open-minded town of Anguishwork and into the town's pub, The Ace Patterns.
The Ace Patterns' owner had long ago found that it was either invest in a half-dozen beds, or have to pay three strong men every night to drag the unconscious revelers of the previous evening back to their homes; these well-worn haphazard bundles of lumber lined the south wall. Eyegore sat down at the table at the far side of the hall, in part to be away from the smell, and drank a few dozen mugs of mead. (Although he might not have been aware of it, the regular immersion his hands had gotten in his communitie's local form of 178 proof beverage had actually made his hands one of the sterileist places in miles. Of course, as one of the few treatments he prescribed other than amputation was "Drink shum of dish shtuf right here, it'll fixsh you up!", it's not surprising that his patient's eyesight regularly diminished.)
Anguishwork, Eyegore realized, was a free-wheeling town. Unlike some places he had visited, there where Elves, Dwarves, and Goblins milling about town as well as the humans. Indeed, there where even a few Kobolds, a family of them running a small pet shelter / delicatessen.
Eyegore had placed himself in the bar partly1 out of habit, and partly because he was trying to find work. It seemed that word of his medical developments had gotten around, and most people around here seemed to know that visiting anyone professing to be an optical professional certainly was worse than a sharp stick in the eye by a factor of two.
It is, of course, wise for those in need of good3 mercenaries to search in a bar, especially if you have good timing and a pen and contract on your person at all times. Thus, our hero was hired to take care of a cyclopse infestation by the name of Eti Yellowirons, in exchange for any steed of his choice from the town stable.
After concluding what he belived to be very clever negotiations, Eyegore set out to convince several of his fellow bar patrions to join him on his adventure. They were:
-Yaaga Agonashra, Sowrdsman, victim of typo fever at an early age, but recovered.
-Woose Ngokangana, a goblin Dominator. She wasn't very clear as to what that job entailed.
-Dakk Ikthagcog, a retired Dwarven Hammerer.
-Jakkarra, a Kobold Bowman. Bowbold. Kobow?
-And Daft Likotmat, a professional Dwarf. For parties and other special events.
The six beer-soaked warriors trundled acrost the landscape to the east of town on the way to many severed body parts I think we are all sure.~
Wow I write too much. Well, this is the most people I can convince to come with me at the moment. I haven't even got to the drunk's backstories, let alone the bloodshed. Well, things will pick up once I give these guys some personality and reach the cave. Don't worry about not getting your charicters involved; they'll join the bloodshed and the limbshed and so on as soon as spaces open up.
1 Roughly 90%
2 This does not relate to any particular footnote.
3 In this case meaning "stupid enough to work for free."