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First Post
[an Adventure Hook Walks In]
{This adventure is restricted to 5-6 1st or 2nd level adventurers. If you are interested, approach Hallidor once it becomes clear he is looking for help.}
The door to the tavern opens slowly, and a well-built man -- just a little over 6 feet tall -- enters. He is wearing a shirt half-untied, revealing links of steel chain beneath. In his left hand he carried a large wooden shield; on his belt is a mace painted (or tarnished) black. As he looks around warily, his right hand twitches nervously.
He doesn't bother approaching the bar for a drink; that does not seem to be what he is after. After sitting down in a corner table (back to wall), he looks up and scans the room. His black hair, black beard, and dark eyes have surely caused many farm-girl hearts to leap with a double-hitch; but such conquests are certainly not on his mind at the moment. He has a serious expression on his face; yet, at the same time, pleading.
“I am Hallidor, and I have heard much of the Red Dragon Inn,” he speaks to the room, not loudly, but sufficient to insure that any who want to hear can, “and I have been told it is a gathering place for good folk who are willing to help right a wrong -- and a most grievous injustice has just recently occurred. Naturally, I am willing to pay for such help.”
Hallidor sits back and stares at the varied crowd, attempting to determine if anyone has heard him or is at all interested.
{Picture of Hallidor included}
{This adventure is restricted to 5-6 1st or 2nd level adventurers. If you are interested, approach Hallidor once it becomes clear he is looking for help.}
The door to the tavern opens slowly, and a well-built man -- just a little over 6 feet tall -- enters. He is wearing a shirt half-untied, revealing links of steel chain beneath. In his left hand he carried a large wooden shield; on his belt is a mace painted (or tarnished) black. As he looks around warily, his right hand twitches nervously.
He doesn't bother approaching the bar for a drink; that does not seem to be what he is after. After sitting down in a corner table (back to wall), he looks up and scans the room. His black hair, black beard, and dark eyes have surely caused many farm-girl hearts to leap with a double-hitch; but such conquests are certainly not on his mind at the moment. He has a serious expression on his face; yet, at the same time, pleading.
“I am Hallidor, and I have heard much of the Red Dragon Inn,” he speaks to the room, not loudly, but sufficient to insure that any who want to hear can, “and I have been told it is a gathering place for good folk who are willing to help right a wrong -- and a most grievous injustice has just recently occurred. Naturally, I am willing to pay for such help.”
Hallidor sits back and stares at the varied crowd, attempting to determine if anyone has heard him or is at all interested.
{Picture of Hallidor included}
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