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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Ironmaster" data-source="post: 2580821" data-attributes="member: 36274">Thread Locations<a href="http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?p=2547983#post2547983" target="_blank">OOC General </a>General questions should go here.<a href="http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=148348" target="_blank"> Characters (OOC)</a> over at the Rogues Gallery.  Character-related questions go here.<a href="http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?p=2580821#post2580821" target="_blank">In-Character (IC) </a> to see the game in actual play.  In-character only!Fall 1371The peaceful land of Mistledale has been greatly troubled of late by raiding drow who strike on moonless nights and then retreat under cover of darkness.  Chasing marauding drow over the fields and hedgerows of Mistledale has proved futile so far, but a new development has cropped up.  Since arriving in Elven Crossing, after crossing through the great and ancient forest of Cormanthor along the Mistle Trail from Shadowdale,  two nights ago, you heard a rumor that the drow are using the abandoned keep of Galath’s Roost, a ruin a few leagues east of Glen, at the very eastern limits of the dale, as a base for their raids.Troops sent to investigate the site have found a few monsters but no signs of habitation.  Nevertheless, raids on the northeastern end of the dale have been heavy, and accompany of militia recently sent to watch the keep through the night was completely wiped out, the soldiers gone without a trace.  Pressing on, you continued to Ashabenford, taking rooms at The White Hart, an inn typical of  those famous throughout The Dales, luxuriously kept and clean, filled with soft music, chatting, and the sound of patrons sharpening their blades, serving hearty food and good drink with many folks to share it with.  The retired warrior turned proprietor, Holfast Harpenshield made it known that he, and some other dalesfolk, are not too sure the drow were to blame for the strange doings at Galath’s Roost.“Until now, drow raids have been sporadic, and most have taken place not only on moonless nights, but always within half a night’s march o’ the forest.” Harpenshield placed a calloused finger alongside his nose, leaning forward in confidence, green eyes shining. “These new raids seem to occur more often, and on moonlit nights most of all.  And mounted, too.”  He had leaned back across the counter, with a look of sagacity. “Drow don’t ride.”“Sparrowhawk Thramne” the innkeeper had advised, “If you truly have returned home, take your friends here and find out the true threat posed by the drow at Galath’s Roost.  The Riders have their hands full, and the Council have no further intention of sacrificing so many men again by placing them at the Roost.”  To Stor, Liksa, and the dwarf, he added “Mistrans know good folk by the deeds they do.  You’ll find enough gratitude if you can help young Thramne.”That was two nights ago, and you have since ridden east on borrowed horses along the Moonsea Ride, spending the last evening at Glen, a dwarven village nestled along a ravine.  Now, a false dawn colors the sky, so early even the birds are yet asleep, and the four of you approach on foot the ruined square keep, perhaps three bow shots in the distance.  Fifteen miles separate you from the dwarven village, and your borrowed mounts, who no doubt are more comfortable than you are.  The nearly naked forest line ahead cannot conceal the still-dark crumbled remains of a stone castle, and a surrounding dry-moat, now largely taken over by shrubs and sun forest.  At best estimate, dawn should arrive in about an hour.  The chill autumn air reaches even through the warmest clothing, carrying the scent of dry leaves underfoot and clean earth.</blockquote>

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