Mark Chance
Boingy! Boingy!
Four adventurers staying for a time in Rainhaven, a modestly large port town at the mouth of the Halcyon River emptying into the Gulf of Tears, have recently received summons from Jon Korbok, Guildmaster of Adventurers. Guildmaster Korbok is a grizzled dwarven veteran of numerous campaigns in the Goblin Wars of the last century who reputation for impeccable professionalism is almost without peer.
Lion's Mane Hall, the Adventurer's Guild headquarters, is a stately structure a stone's throw from the hustling, bustling dockyards. Being members in good-standing, the four adventurers are admitted without fuss to the luxuriously appointed waiting room.
"Guildmaster Korbok will be here shortly," says the clerk, a painfully thin woman seemingly constructed entirely out of angles and sharp edges. "Please make yourselves comfortable. Avail yourselves of the bar if you'd like."
Without further ado, she turns on her heel and strides from the room, sliding the tall doors shut behind her, leaving the four strangers to get acquainted while they wait.
Lion's Mane Hall, the Adventurer's Guild headquarters, is a stately structure a stone's throw from the hustling, bustling dockyards. Being members in good-standing, the four adventurers are admitted without fuss to the luxuriously appointed waiting room.
"Guildmaster Korbok will be here shortly," says the clerk, a painfully thin woman seemingly constructed entirely out of angles and sharp edges. "Please make yourselves comfortable. Avail yourselves of the bar if you'd like."
Without further ado, she turns on her heel and strides from the room, sliding the tall doors shut behind her, leaving the four strangers to get acquainted while they wait.