Prelude...
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*(From the Silver Marches source book)
The anchor of the Silver Marches and the most wealthy and important surface cities of he North next to Waterdeep itself, Silverymoon is truly “the Gem of the North”.
Silverymoon is that rarest of things, a bustling city dominated by trees and beautiful stone buildings. Old oaks, shadowtops and duskwoods compete with tall, thin spires to touch the sky, and blue leaf trees shade flagstone sidewalks along most of the cobbled streets. The prevailing style of stonework is flowing curves, as if buildings grew rather than being erected block by block. Many older buildings are clad in a thin layer of fused royal blue or emerald glass.
Balconies and curving stairs are everywhere, and windowsills, railings and newel-posts are all adorned with herbs and flowers growing in sculpted bowls. Most dwellings have grass paths leading to sheltered bowers. Many folk take time every day to lift their harps, pipes, or voices to make music, and things of beauty are more than prized than admired; such design is expected.
It is here that we begin our journey…
Prelude, Midwinter, 1372DR
It is the High Festival of Winter, the feast that traditionally is the best day to make or renew alliances. Nobles and monarchs mark the day with this traditional feast to celebrate the halfway point of winter. The commoners enjoy the celebration a bit less, they call it Deadwinter Day as it is mainly an indication that the winter is still here and there are hard times still to come.
The city of Silverymoon is active with festivals and feasts scattered throughout the city. Life in the city is good. The winter has been cold, but relatively quiet. The harvest was better than expected so the feast of midwinter is grander than years past. The Market is bustling with activity, which is where you find yourself now…
Tsoren Gildersham, native of Luskan, wanders the market picking up a few trinkets here and there. Having traveled from Luskan with a merchant caravan earlier in the winter, Tsoren has good grounding on the environs of Silverymoon. Tsoren has been able to support himself since his arrival by spending his time with games of chance and drinking at the various inns. The Market affords him good opportunities for further financial ‘gain’.
Silestrea Morand has lived in Silverymoon all her life. Her natural magical talents makes Silverymoon a logical place to enhance her talents so she has never seen a need to leave. With her father often gone on business to the south, Silestrea and her mother often find time to work on her sorcerous talents. She aspires to join Arkhen’s Invocatorium, but she has not yet saved enough for the high tuition prices. But, for today, Silestra wanders the market in search of a few fine silks.
Sitting in a chair, out of the way of the market traffic, sits Dain Bramage, Dwarven prince in exile. Smoking from his hand crafted wooden pipe, Dain observes the people pass by him, smiles on their faces, and laughter in the air. The smells of ale and mead waft out of the nearby taverns, catching Dain’s attention, but he remains stoic in his chair. Much has happened to Dain over the past few months, a weight even great for a dwarf of his stature. Every once in a while he looks over his shoulder, but whether he looks longingly at the tavern or seeks something from his past, only Dain would be able to say.
To say that Enalia Astariat turned a few heads in the Market of Silverymoon would not fairly describe her reception. The traditional peaceful feast gives opportunity for one to make peace with ones enemies, but Enalia looks nothing like a token of such sentiment. Having recently arrived from the Moonwood, Enalia is decked out in her armor, longsword strapped across her back, nestled next to her longbow. Enalia looks every bit the warrior, a stark contrast to the revelry around her.
Aram was finally released from his duties for the day. The Children of the Starry Quill, Mystra’s information gatherers and preservers of magical knowledge have a little known order of monks. These monks serve as liaisons to other orders and keepers of the arcane. Aram, a promising monk within the order, has found some time to walk the Market. His time in the libraries and serving as the eyes and ears of the order has proven to be difficult work. For now, Aram is enjoying a few hours of peace amongst the denizens of Silverymoon.
Fizzlewikk Schlickenbahb, a prince among halflings, or so he would tell you. Seeing the Market as more of an ‘opportunity’ to increase his fortunes than a festival of, Fizzle wanders amongst the people singing songs, dancing and lifting more than a few purses. Never one to shy away from the crowd, Fizzle finds interest in everyone and everything. A recent transplant from Waterdeep, Fizzle finds the city of Silverymoon to be more to his liking; a chance to be judged on his merits, not on his past.
Wonderment and awe are reflected in the eyes of Willow. Having just arrived from the High Forest, Willow is taken aback by the sheer immensity of the city and the diversity of the culture. More than a few stare in her direction, obvious they have not seen many of her kind in the city, but they smile and welcome her nonetheless. Wandering the Market, Willow recalls her dream and knows now that this is the city she had seen. Why she needs to be here she does not know. For now, se takes in the sites and sounds of the city, so different from her native High Forest.
And now, the adventure begins…
