The Happy Birthday Adventurers make their way to the village and see a variety of dwarves and humans with round, greatly plumed helmets guarding the closer section of the barricades. One of the dwarves asks as you approach, "Adventurers from Ptolus?" On a positive nod from your party members, the dwarf lets you in while one of the humans races down the main street, his helmet bouncing on his head while the plumes billow brilliantly. "Adventurers! Adventurers from Ptolus!" His announcement brings a trickle of people unto the streets.
They welcome you into the town with cheers and hugs (many from the local ladies). A large firework is launched up into the air and bursts in a cascade of colors. You hear a man yell to his son, "Those are adventurers, my boy! This means that the village won't be attacked for awhile. Not after the first two parties came and did some damage before getting skewered. And the rest did the attacking before getting a like fate!" He smiles quite happily, making imaginary sword thrust motions with his free and empty hands.
Your party has only a moment to ponder those words when you find yourself in a large village square, facing an elf in a sharp black and white suit, with a fancy top hat. From the way he stands, his hands hooked in the collars his vest, he believes himself quite important. A small elven girl hangs by his side and upon seeing Thorg she yells, "Ahhh... ogre!"
The self-important man shakes his head, but eyes Thorg nervously, "No, my dear, that's an orc. And when they are in adventuring parties you normally find them quite tame and almost housebroken."
"An orc...er?" The girl now looks up at the party quizically, her forefinger far in her right nostril looking for treasure.
The mayor clears his throat and pulls out a scroll, "Might adventurers from Ptolus...er... it is Ptolus, right? Thank you for coming to try and liberate out wondrous land from the vile evil that has settled here. In the name of the people of Haven, I, Sieg Rutherford Silverfire the Fourth, do with great joy declare that you shall be afforded the utmost courtesy before going to face your deaths. Our forefathers had come long ago, facing trials of the sort that ..."
It's about here that the heroes begin to lose interest, as the mayor reiterates the actions of the village ancestors, focusing much on the past Sieg Rutherford Silverfires of yore. Besides, three blonde and very buxom human females are currently waving coyly from the door of the only tavern you've seen. It is part of the village square, and is named 'De Drie Gezusters Groningen'.
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