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Message: <blockquote data-quote="StupidSmurf" data-source="post: 2749466" data-attributes="member: 35893">My favorite "You all meet in a bar" campaign start was one I pulled on my group when we were doing a new set of Forgotten Realms characters. With the exception of two people who wanted to play a married couple, no one else knew anyone, and everyone mutually agreed that that would be a good idea. Everyone was simply at the inn, en route from each of their respective Points A to Points B. The medieval fantasy equivalent of a bunch of people at a rest stop on an interstate highway.In walks this rich-looking man wearing a bit of armor and a sword in his belt. He's flanked by two rougher types, much better armored, and also heavier armed. The rich man signals for silence, and asks "Excuse me, but has anyone seen a friend of ours? He's a fellow human, sandy brown hair, short beard, gray eyes...walks with a limp. Actually his leg is quite injured, and he may actually still be bleeding. We're here to find him and help him. Has anyone seen him? Anyone? Anyone?"The inn goes quiet, people shake their heads "no", or simply shrug and go back to their drinks and/or dinners. One of the rich guy's henchmen, in an effort to try and be helpful and possibly sucking up to his boss, steps forward and gives it his own spin. "Now, we're...uh...not lookin' to harm him or nothin'. It's not like he has any valuable information or that he's tryin' to avoid us, y'see. Nothin' like that, nossir. We just wanna talk to him and help him with his wounded leg, which we certainly didn't cause, ok?"The rich guy holds up a hand to shut his henchman up. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Just lovely," he says. "Now everyone here knows too much." He sighs and shrugs. "Ah well. Kill them. Kill every last one of them." The two henchmen smile and pull out nasty weapons. One very quick-thinking bar patron, who's actually closest to the exit, darts out the front door. The party hears whizz-thunk, whizz-thunk, whizz-thunk, and the patron staggers back in, screaming, an arrow lodged in his face, chest, and stomach. And the arrows are burning. Without another glance, the rich man strides out the exit and shuts the door behind him. The two obviously high-level fighters advance on the crowd, including our beloved 1st level PCs.  <img src="http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png"  class="smilie" loading="lazy" alt=":]" title="Devious    :]" data-shortname=":]" /></blockquote>

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