Jun 9, 2015 11:16 pm
You have always had issue with the prospect of a 'normal' life. Ever since you were a child your curiosity and fearlessness have driven you to seek out a different sort of life. This didn't always sit right with your family and community, so for one reason or another, you've chosen to set out on your own. You've grown in your formative years, learning the ways of the sword, the bow, divine or arcane arts.
The Freelands, a loosely governed nation born from a revolt against a corrupt empire, has seen nearly 60 years of peace. Still, in the dark areas between the tilled fields, small villages and large trading towns, the forces of darkness still threaten those who live or walk too close to the fringes.
You have taken to the road to seek your fortune, along the way you've met up with a small handful of like-minded souls. You've found yourself in the lakeside city of Praern, upon Lough Derg, or the Loch as the locals call it. Known for it's fried fish, Praern is a multicultural city where the tough men of the cold wastes, the fur-clad elves of the Hynrur, dwarves from the Shimmer Mountains and Freelanders from the south merge to trade. Surrounded by many wild and untamed areas where bands of goblin, orc and trolls come down from their mountain caves to raid and dotted with haunted ruins of Gorman design; Praern is a safe place where adventurous young men and women can find work.
It's early morning, the fishermen are returning with their daily catch from the Loch. With your pockets empty and you make your way to the town square where you've heard work can be found. Other than barrels of smoked fish, however, you find nothing. About the time you think you may have to find your next meal from a wastebin, a doughy man rolls a cart out into the square. On the cart are piles and piles of warm pastries, steaming in the cool air. A large pot of steaming tea shines in the growing sunlight.
When a suitable crowd gathers he raises a banner. "Adventurer's Guild - Now accepting new members". He then turns to the crowd.
The Freelands, a loosely governed nation born from a revolt against a corrupt empire, has seen nearly 60 years of peace. Still, in the dark areas between the tilled fields, small villages and large trading towns, the forces of darkness still threaten those who live or walk too close to the fringes.
You have taken to the road to seek your fortune, along the way you've met up with a small handful of like-minded souls. You've found yourself in the lakeside city of Praern, upon Lough Derg, or the Loch as the locals call it. Known for it's fried fish, Praern is a multicultural city where the tough men of the cold wastes, the fur-clad elves of the Hynrur, dwarves from the Shimmer Mountains and Freelanders from the south merge to trade. Surrounded by many wild and untamed areas where bands of goblin, orc and trolls come down from their mountain caves to raid and dotted with haunted ruins of Gorman design; Praern is a safe place where adventurous young men and women can find work.
It's early morning, the fishermen are returning with their daily catch from the Loch. With your pockets empty and you make your way to the town square where you've heard work can be found. Other than barrels of smoked fish, however, you find nothing. About the time you think you may have to find your next meal from a wastebin, a doughy man rolls a cart out into the square. On the cart are piles and piles of warm pastries, steaming in the cool air. A large pot of steaming tea shines in the growing sunlight.
When a suitable crowd gathers he raises a banner. "Adventurer's Guild - Now accepting new members". He then turns to the crowd.
