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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Creamsteak" data-source="post: 6676407" data-attributes="member: 552">Deep in the recesses of the earth a mass of writhing flesh was born from stone, salt, and fire. The festering mass grew and fed upon the life in the depths below. When the drow found it, they at first thought it a mindless enemy. Something to be feared and hated, but eventually controlled. They tamed the beast within the darkness, or so they thought. It learned their language. It spoke to them. Where once they had thought the creature was a foe to be fought, soon some came to see it as something to be praised... even worshiped.The primal creature was called the Akasha by one such cult, and they learned from the beast. They swelled their numbers and turned against their own gods and people. For a brief moment, it seemed the creature might breach the surface, but something struck deep into the monster's heart and cut the tethers from its elemental power sources. The drow died out here, and for a great deal of time the power and the monster lay dormant.Many generations later, dwarves came to this land and conquered these ancient dungeons. They tamed the wilds and built a kingdom here. And for a time there was peace. But that too could not last. The dwarves were greedy and selfish, and soon would be hounded by trolls and giants in great number. A long, slow, grinding war against the monsters of the surface and the darkspawn below lead to a terrible miserable existence that would slowly rot from within. It is said that their last generation was interred in the mountain, their great king interred in their final tomb.Upon these fallen dwarven fortresses heroes came and with gilded chests they purchased great castles and citadels upon the lands to watch over the villages and kingdoms that were just now arising in the valley. They brought great wealth, and peeled the outer-most layer of the underdark, only to run their fortunes into ruin and have nothing left when all was done.The Dessarin Valley is a well-traveled trade route settled between the great cities. Business booms and many profit. Still, others work to steal away what is not theirs by right. Banditry is common. Sell swords are hired in great number to protect the interests of the wealthy. Few can tell the difference between the bandits and the mercenaries. They both line their pockets with the money of wealthy merchants. There existed a great need to distinguish between the quality of labor, and so an agreement was struck to rank and police the various adventurers in the land. A guild was formed, and from that guild a merchant or town constable could quickly surmise the talent, skill, and most of all reliability of a given sellsword or battle-mage.For many the guild is simply a means to an end. The guild provides easy access to work, supplies, and respite should it be needed. For a few others, it is a path to fame and fortune... should they be talented enough to earn the coveted ranks of gold or even platinum. You, however, are somewhere in between. The ranks of the silver are regarded well by most, but very few of their number have more than local notoriety.Our adventure begins on the first day of summer season in the tavern-hall of the guild in Red Larch. A shortage of gold-ranked adventurers has resulted in a quest of gilded rank being offered to any who would brave it. The priority: URGENT. The pay: One thousand gold pieces. The mission: To find the whereabouts of the missing caravan of nobles traveling from Mirabar to Waterdeep and to return to the guild with a treasure called the "mote of elemental earth."</blockquote>

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