Feb 11, 2022 5:18 am
Long has the day been that the party has ridden since their departure from the city of Khanwohr. Their exploits during the great festival of drinking only a few weeks behind now as they decided to head west into the country of Imprei. The caravan that offered to given them food and ride is bound for the growing village of Mayfield, lying just a day past the borders.
Mayfield, as you've all been told, is a farming village, well on its way to becoming more of a small town as people come to settle there. It's fields are rich and fertile, allowing many a crop to grow and grow well. Orchards, wide fields of wavering grain and barley, corn, and all others are found within the village's vast acreage.
Many nearby settlements, towns, and cities often purchase a great deal of these crops for a swell price. Perhaps the most sought, however, is their fine brews. From their orchards of apples, ciders both sweet and sour are concocted. Ales and beer are threshed from the fields from the golden wheat that grows aplenty. And maybe the best of them all, the "cream of the crop," is their mead, for a great field of apiaries offer various flavors of honey to imbue the bee-wine.
Many whom you ride with also gaze in awe at the oddity that is your band. Two goblins, a kobold, a drow(or dusk elf as they might prefer to be called), and a sentinel of yore. The heroes of the festival ride with them. Much curiosity surrounds them.
All was well under the rising autumnal sun. Until the caravan came to a sudden halt, those in the lead wagon screaming in horror!
Mayfield, as you've all been told, is a farming village, well on its way to becoming more of a small town as people come to settle there. It's fields are rich and fertile, allowing many a crop to grow and grow well. Orchards, wide fields of wavering grain and barley, corn, and all others are found within the village's vast acreage.
Many nearby settlements, towns, and cities often purchase a great deal of these crops for a swell price. Perhaps the most sought, however, is their fine brews. From their orchards of apples, ciders both sweet and sour are concocted. Ales and beer are threshed from the fields from the golden wheat that grows aplenty. And maybe the best of them all, the "cream of the crop," is their mead, for a great field of apiaries offer various flavors of honey to imbue the bee-wine.
Many whom you ride with also gaze in awe at the oddity that is your band. Two goblins, a kobold, a drow(or dusk elf as they might prefer to be called), and a sentinel of yore. The heroes of the festival ride with them. Much curiosity surrounds them.
All was well under the rising autumnal sun. Until the caravan came to a sudden halt, those in the lead wagon screaming in horror!
OOC:
Aaand action!
