Chapter 1: The Adventure Begins

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows across the tranquil landscape of Meadowfen, an air of unease settles over the village. For generations, this sleepy hamlet nestled amidst the verdant expanse of Humblewood has known only peace and serenity. Yet, in recent days, a dark cloud has descended upon the once-idyllic community.

The heartbeat of Meadowfen, its fields and pastures, lie desolate and barren, stripped of life-giving rains that have failed to grace its soil. The absence of these seasonal blessings has plunged the village into hardship, exacerbating the already dire situation. Caravans bearing much-needed supplies have vanished without a trace, whispers of bandits haunting the roads like specters in the night.

Amidst the chaos that grips Meadowfen, the village Elder, with a heavy heart and grim determination, dispatched brave souls to uncover the truth behind the ominous plume of black smoke that stains the northern horizon. Yet, as days turned to nights and hope waned, not a single soul among those sent forth has returned to tell the tale. The shadow of uncertainty looms large, leaving the fate of the town's troops shrouded in mystery, swallowed whole by the enigma that awaits beyond the village's borders.

As your group traversed the familiar path back from Ashburrow, you passed the very troops the Elder had sent forth, their absence now a haunting presence in the hearts of those who knew them. The weight of their unfulfilled mission hangs heavy in the air, a grim reminder of the dangers that lurk just beyond the safety of Meadowfen's boundaries. You had seen this black plume about a day before you passed the group coming from the direction you came from.

You all spent a night in Meadowfren at the local Inn each with your own room (unless you think you would share).

Please start by describing how you start your day.

Raising with the first light of dawn Charun packs his gear and straightens his room before heading out to an open area to practice with his weapons. After completing his morning drills the Luma will clean himself and his gear before returning to the commons for food and news. Grinning and greeting others that are up and about this morning person is oblivious to any possible reason others might not be as energetic and cheerful as he but does not let other possible foul moods affect his cheerful outlook. Until he remembers the loss of the local guard detachment. Pondering what may have occurred to the north they just left he will eat and await his companions before making plans.

Hurin walks back to the edge of the village, the hour before dawn being the time he finds both tranquility and meditation. However, there is little to still his mind as his gray eyes once again move northward towards the black plume of smoke. The tension in his body and the bristling of his fur set him on edge. It’s times like these he welcomes the warnings of Hath, though, it doesn’t take the subtle nature of the Whisperer to sense the discord over Meadowfen. A rumble in his stomach lets him know it is time to return to the inn. He pulls his hood up a little further and makes his way down the dirt road, giving Charun a wave in passing. At the inn door he sees the despair on the faces of the townsfolk leaving their homes for barren fields. He can’t help but feel sorrow for them, their once verdant fields reduced to nothing more than arid dirt.

Cyrus is sitting outside the inn, carving a piece of wood. He is making a holy-, or at least a symbol to Gesmer. Its good work, but he is clearly not happy with it. At the time breakfeast is ready is packs up his tools with reverence and goes inside.

Good morning innkeeper. I plugged your bucket. The water you put in it, will now stay there. You should talk with the smith about the door to the outhouse. It needs new hinges. My patchwork will not hold forever.
The bucket they had discussed, but the outhouse door, was a small repair that he just did. Seeing the innkeeper smile and put a plate of breakfast, and a slice of seedcake, makes him feel good. Gesmer was right. There is worth in creating and repairing.

A sun's rise is a beacon's call to adventure.
-Wilhelm Brookstone, The Mysterious Mole Mines

Leif fought off the stinging ray of sunlight as best he could, muttering and covering his face with a blanket. He'd had a terrible sleep, fear for his parents and childhood friends and neighbors weighing heavily on his mind, and it was those thoughts that spurred him awake, though not without a string of words his mother would've smacked him for uttering. The smell of her cooking wafted to his nose, and dashed away the last vestiges of sleep.

He looked out the window from his old room. The black plume on the horizon blackened his thoughts again. He'd seen the troops that the Elders had sent out to investigate, and even then he had a sense of foreboding, but now he was just saddened over it. I should've joined them. Leif thought, but shook his head. Likely he'd just be missing too now.

A breakfast of apple pastries, creamy turnovers, and fresh berries broke his fast. It'd been good to see his parents, he worried deeply for their safety with that plume in the distance, but coin was running low again, and he best make his way back to Alderheart soon, although... perhaps a stop by the inn, see some old friends one more time, and see if there were any new chatter about what's going on.

Yawning. Stretching. Noisily smacking her lips.

This how Sherry awakes slowly after a night in a room shared with many others. Snow white fur smoothening, she dusts of her well worn cloak and sorts through her collection of weapons. Even as scimitars get girded under a narrow waist and an old, but well kept crossbow slung over a slight shoulder, Sherry doesn't cut an imposing figure. Small and lithe for a mapach, the young woman makes up for in energy what she lacks in size. Graceful, swift movements and a constantly wandering gaze make the former bandit appear awake and present. Her rogueish smile combined with dark eyes has caused many a heart to flutter.

And one more thing; Sherry is broke. Broke over her tiny, round, white furred ears. Even if the young woman had "found" some coins yesterday. Enough to pay for shelter, dinner and breakfast for maybe a night or two. But not enough to reach Alderheart. A thing she plans to do so with something to show in her now empty pockets.

Finally arriving at the inn's common room, she orders some porridge and hopes for a generous use of ham and carrots in it. This should keep her warm for a while. Reclaiming a pleasant spot in of the corners, the mapach draws her hood a bit deeper and starts to savor each bite.

There is a commotion in the village square.

Leif sees a wounded strig woman limp towards the Meadowfen Elder’s home, staggering and catching herself on the side of a well. She is bloodied, and her tawny feathers are singed and flecked with ash and soot while he is walking to the Inn.

Those in the Inn would hear the commotion and a crowd beginning to form around the Elder's home if they look outside.

Leif rushed over to Cara. He didn't know her well, but knew of her and her work, having always dreamed of owning one of her beautifully crafted blades. Now she was the first creature to return from being sent out, though her battered state certainly brought nothing but bad tidings. "Easy, Cara, easy." Leif wasn't particularly strong, or large, but he helped walked her over to the Elder's home.

"What happened?" He asked her, as a throng of folks gathered around the house.

Hearing the commotion Charun moves to follow the crowd. Sitting Leif rushing towards someone but the crowd gets in the way of him dying who. With a huf of annoyance Charun laps into the air to bypass the crowd.Gliding down next to Leif he quickly lets his touch heal the injured string.
Lay on hands 2 hp

Hurin will throw some coins on the table for his meal and exit into the street. He will begin pushing his way through the crowd. Seeing his companions already at her side, he will help Leif support her to the Elder's home. Once she's comfortable he will assess her wounds to see if any further aid is needed.

"I must speak to the Elder, we are all in grave danger. The Grove has taken an entire town." Cara keeps pushing her way through, seemingly ignoring those helping her. She is clearly on a mission.

At this moment, a wizened gallus, who was sitting on her front porch, rises and pulls open her door, waving for Cara to come. Cara cannot carry herself anymore and starts leaning on those helping her.

Leif was glad that his friends were around, for Cara was too large for him to carry on his own, but he helped carry her in. His thoughts were a jumble of dread and anticipation. Why were they all in danger? The Grove isn't that close by. And which town succumbed to it? Surely nothing nearby. But even as his mind flailed around, outwardly Leif calm as a summer creek. His senses were all heightened as if danger was nearby, and he waited patiently for Cara to divulge her secrets.

Cara starts to look stronger as she accepts the help while you all enter the Elder's home.

As people begin to react to the commotion outside and stream out, Sherry palms two considerable pieces of bread while passing some abandon tables and pours another steaming stew into her already half-empty bowl, filling it up again. A lucky day - at least so far, the mapach decides, chewing and slurping happily.

As soon as Sherry gets outside, she deftly climbs onto a tall barrel and lets her short legs dangle freely as she continues consuming her porridge enthusiastically.

Hoping the eldest will come outside, the young woman remains sitting on her observation post for the time being and keeps an eye out for what happens next. As well as for trouble. That bastard is never far!

Cyrus is currioius and what to hear what is going on. Giving the chance he'll will help and assist Cara getting to the elder

"It’s clear you have endured much, my child, the respected gallus says, motioning to the party to gather around. "But we must know what happened out there."


Cara explains that the fires from the Scorched Grove have spread to the hillside town of Ashbarrow and razed it to the ground. Cara warns that the roads are full of bandits. Luckily, she escaped with her life. Others, Ashbarrow citizens fleeing their burning homes, were not so lucky. Cara doesn’t know where those captured by the bandits were taken.

Ardwyn looks to be contemplating these matters then turns to those who gathered to help...specifically at Leif who he has known for years.

Leif...you and those you travel with are on your way to Alderheart correct? Would you please take a message to the Birdfolk Council to warn them and plea for them to help us? While Meadowfen is safe for now, their support is greatly needed. I do not think we will survive without it and the roads are too dangerous for anyone but the most experienced travelers

Ashbarrow razed to the ground? Leif was just there a few days ago. His heart hammered like a drum inside him, but he simply nodded at Ardwyn. "I'll see it done."

In truth, he didn't put much faith in the Birdfolk Council. The only thing they ever did with grounded folks were to look down upon them from their lofty perch, but Ardwyn was right, they needed help, and they had to try. If bandits really are roaming the roads brazenly and in great numbers, it'd take all of Leif's cunning to make it to Alderheart. He looked to his companions, and hoped they'd agree to help. Amaranthine knows he needed it.

Hurin gives Leif a look of concern before nodding his head.

"To Alderheart then."