The Heroes of Fannen-Dar

[Camelot]

The sound of the sloshing of the water deep in the well is muffled by the bickering and bartering of Fannen-Dar's marketplace. Booths and tables are set up around this large well, and townsfolk hustle and bustle around, buying and bargaining for items that the merchants sell. A symbol is carved into the roof of the well; it is the icon of the goddess Avandra, Guardian of Travelers and Maiden of Luck. It suits this town to have her symbol where all can see; Fannen-Dar is the prime place in the Thundertop Hill plains for commerce, and travelers flock to this town like bees to fresh flowers. However, few ever stay here for long. It's just a rest stop on many people's maps.

To you, however, this town means a little more than that.

Recently, Fannen-Dar has been plagued by a tribe of kobolds called the Ice Skulls. When merchants try to come to the town with a caravan of goods, the Ice Skulls strike from the Cloak Woods to the south, killing and stealing whatever they want. Many kobold tribes live in the area, but they usually don't cause this much trouble. The Fannen-Dar army has increased their defenses on the roads to and from the town, but still the Ice Skulls have made it so that the number of travelers and merchants to come to Fannen-Dar have lessened drastically since the attacks began. Nobody likes the state of things in Fannen-Dar, but nobody can do anything about it.

However, a mysterious note appeared on the wall of a well known inn, the Dragon's Den Inn, the biggest and most frequented inn and taproom in Fannen-Dar. The note read:

"To any heroes willing to step forth: the Ice Skulls must be stopped. I can help. If you want to stop the Ice Skulls, and also gain riches and fame along with it, meet me by the Well of Fortune on the morning of Kythorn 10."

Nobody in the town knows who posted this note, but it was not taken down. "It's about time someone tried to help us," the people said. "This situation can't be allowed to continue much longer." But who will be brave enough to accept this quest?

Why, you will be, of course.

It is the morning of the 10th, a bright summer day, and onlookers keep passing the Well of Fortune aimlessly, their only intent to see who will be their heroes. You have chosen to accept this offer for whatever reason you have. Maybe you have lived in Fannen-Dar a while, and are fed up with these raids, either because you want to receive goods from merchants, or want to leave Fannen-Dar quickly. Maybe you want to help just from the kindness of your heart, or maybe you just want the promised riches and fame. Maybe you took this quest for an indirect reason: to avoid staying in the town, with the hope that you will venture into the woods, to avoid someone or something. Maybe you have a personal vendetta against the Ice Skulls; a friends who was victim to their slaughter, or a treasure they stole. Whatever your reason, you are now approaching the Well of Fortune, and see the other heroes there as well. However, there is not another person in sight who steps forward to be the one who posted the note.

This is the beginning of your adventuring career. Have fun.

 

[EvolutionKB]

Thomas left the inn and went out into the summer sun. He shook Ren's hand, and patted him on the back as he turned to leave. It was hard to leave the place that he had called home, and the man that was near a father for him.

He really didn't have a choice though. He remembered the debt he owed to the Feylord, Midnight. The note stuck to the wall could only be fate. Glad he had saved enough gold for a sturdy blade and good armor, he went to see who his employer could be.

Thomas moved to the well, looking around for anybody else who volunteered. Seeing himself the first one, he sat, his back to the cool stone of the well. He looked around, townspeople were already whispering him name, and nodding in his direction. He was used to the attention, he played at the Dragon's Den nightly. He wasn't one though to turn down the opportunity for a performance. He pulled out his harmonica, and began to play a rousing marching tune.

 

[Pyrex]

Walking the streets of Fannen-Dar 1812 sees the notice posted to the door of the inn and decides this would be the perfect opportunity to expand his horizons.

Reaching the town square, 1812 sees Thomas at the well and walks up to him.

"Good Morning To You Good Sir. Are You The Individual Who Posted The Notice At The Inn?"

 

[EvolutionKB]

Thomas saw the 'forged approach him, with a purpose. It's purpose was known when it's question was posed.

"No, that wasn't me." Thomas hadn't seen many warforged in town. Fewer still came into the Dragon's Den. He stands and reaches out to clasp the hand of the warrior. "My name is Thomas," he says with a smile. "I'm waiting to see who would be our employer as well. Your new in town yes? I don't think I've seen you around before."

 

[Walking Dad]

A dwarf strides straight to the meeting place. His bald head, sandybrown long beard in connection with his robes would let many think of a wizard, but instead of a wand or anything, he carries a black warhammer at his sight. As he steps closer, you can hear the clang of metal below his robes.

"Name is Morgran. Who is the one in charge and when we be starting killing kobolds. Cursed vermin!" He says in accent free common.

[sblock=OOC]


[sblock=Mini stat block]
Morgran Deepwell
Perception: 12 Insight: 17 Low-light Vision
AC 16 Fortitude 14 Reflex 13 Will 13
Hit Points: 30/30 Bloodied: 15
Temporary Hit Points: 0
Action Points: 1 Second Wind: 1
Healing Surge: 7 Surges per day: 10/10
Encounter Powers: Diabolic Grasp
Daily Powers: Armor of Agathys

[/sblock][/sblock]

 

[Pyrex]

1812 turns toward the new arrival. "The Person Who Posted The Notice Is Not Here. Perhaps He Is Late."

 

[EvolutionKB]

"Or they want to see who shows up, to make sure we have a chance of success."

Thomas approaches the dwarf. "I'm Thomas, good to meet you Morgran," the half-elf says offering his hand.

 

[Walking Dad]

"Thanks for the rather quick answer. You are not from here are you?" Morgran says to the forged, a bit curious.

-----------

After looking at the hand and waiting a short moment he takes it.
"So, you are Thomas. May I ask your profession?"

[sblock=OOC]


[sblock=Mini stat block]
Morgran Deepwell
Perception: 12 Insight: 17 Low-light Vision
AC 16 Fortitude 14 Reflex 13 Will 13
Hit Points: 30/30 Bloodied: 15
Temporary Hit Points: 0
Action Points: 1 Second Wind: 1
Healing Surge: 7 Surges per day: 10/10
Encounter Powers: Diabolic Grasp
Daily Powers: Armor of Agathys

[/sblock][/sblock]

 

[Bihlbo]

In the bustling marketplace a friendly-looking halfling walks between the stalls, absently looking at the goods for sale. At each stall he either talks to the hawker as a friend or bumps into someone he knows while looking at the goods. The path he takes is slow and meandering, stopping to talk more than he makes any progress. As he approaches the wall of the Dragon's Den Inn he hears some commotion. "Say, what's all the hubub, friend?" he asks a perfect stranger. "Thar's a note what's about gettin us some heroes, there is. I's lookin fer to see what kinda lads take the calls."

The halfling makes his way through the crowd, saying hello to some people he passes, until he reaches an elf friend of his. "Ah good, I was hopin' I'd find a friend here. You know I never learned my letters, mind tellin' me what's this thing say?" As his friend reads the post out loud, the halfling notices an angry commotion across the crowd as a man grabs the collar of the one next to him and spits out, "Where's my ring?!"

The halfling's eyes go big as he digs in his pockets. "Ah, thanks friend, you know I wish I had your learning, I truly do. Which reminds me, my uncle wants to invest in your pottery works! Please, take this ring and give all our best to your wife and children. Speaking of which, shouldn't you get back to them soom? Look at these long shadows!" With that he takes his leave, making his way through the crowd rather quickly. He's quite sure he didn't hear "Where'd you get that?" as he walks away. Yes, quite sure.

Later, at the Well of Fortune on the morning of Kythorn the 10th, would-be heroes gather and talk on what the future might hold. A large-faced halfling with a serious look and a dagger at his hip approaches and stands nearby. A grubby human child, clearly a gutter rat, sleeps on a patchwork rawhide mat in the filth next to a nearby streetlight. Two old women, roughly the same small height but one clearly a dwarf, walk slowly by, chatting about their husbands and sweeping the cobbles, occasionally stooping low to see if anything valuable can be found in the dust and debris.

 

[Pyrex]

"Thanks for the rather quick answer. You are not from here are you?" Morgran says to the forged, a bit curious.

"No. I Have Only Been In Fannen-Dar For A Couple Days. It Was A Long Walk From Khora."