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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Blackroot" data-source="post: 3447105" data-attributes="member: 50753">Oakthorne <img src="http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f390/SDiggy2theBling1/Autumn_dissolve_by_Moniquette.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />The Great Forests of the West have, for many years played a vital role in the upbringing of many generations of the beings that live in, under, and atop the hearty boughs of the great trees therein. As well as offering shade, fuel, and food from the multitudes of deciduous wonders, two strong rivers that flow through the wooded banks have created a sort-of paradise for forest goers. The great forests hold many secrets; secret lovers, sanguine plots, and affairs better lest to be discussed under-the-table have echoed throughout the growing pillars of the land. A testament to the great nurturing of the forest is the thriving town of Oakthorne, which can be found a few miles from the forest’s southernmost edge. It’s a good-sized community that has held strong since it’s founding more than 250 years ago by Quarnus Oakthorne, a well-known merchant and ale-master who had used the forest as a place of storage for his caches of ale and various things of value. Oakthorne's populace consists mostly of small farming families and their extended relatives; nearly everyone is related, distantly atleast, by either birth or marriage. Since its first foundations were laid the town was kept secluded from the rest of the region, either by geography or its people, and because of this seclusion the town has stayed in an enlightened state of harmony. The people stay true to the customs of old and the majority of the town tends towards a conserative lifestyle, the only strangers who are admitted to stay in the town are those who would bring the wealth of the cities, but nothing else, into the groves of the forest. All whos permanent residences are not in Oakthron are travelling merchants who have stopped for a break in the town. Recently Oakthorne has kept a watchful eye to the north. There have been numerous attacks by rabid animals whos origin is still yet unknown. Many of the townsfolk believe the animals have just been driven down due to a long overdue migration, but a few others believe that the animals have been altered somehow, and that the answer to the problem lies in the ancient ruins that have lain solitary for an unmeasurable amount of time. Mercenaries have been hired to dispose of the problem, but as of late there has been no progress made. The past couple days has brought a handful of new wanderers to the town, most are just pompous asses who brag about dragons they've slain or ancient evils they've destroyed, but there is still a select few who seem to know much of the dangers in the lives they lead. A large foreigner has taken up residence in one of the abandoned houses to the south of the town. It would seem that he looks not for adventure, but aid. A woman of elvish blood has been spotted an many occasions circling the outskirts of the town, something aobut the air that surrounds her speaks of a life stolen, and a tainted past. There is yet another who has sought refuge in a small public temple, offering aid to the needy and taking care of the surrounding area. It is supposed that they may have a trait in common, they have answered the call of a town in need, or perhaps they are the ones in need and they town has supplied them a way of fulfilling it.  </blockquote>

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