June 27, 1270

#1: Fare Thee Well, Watchtower

The day is June 27, 1270. The location is the peak of the mountain island Severan, in the small village of the same name. In particular, we’re focused on a tavern where an exceptionally important meeting is going to take place. Inside this tavern there’s a shady-looking halfling, a pair of waitresses and the tavern owner, a couple of dwarves enjoying a pair of pints, and a cleric of Fharlarghn who was gathering a small crowd around his table. That’s the important table.

The tall, thin cleric of Fharlarghn looked over his newest batch of recruits. Although only thirty years old, the cleric had already trained over a dozen successful adventurers. Still, he wasn’t able to figure this bunch out. The first to arrive was a druid completely covered in a rainbow tattoo, with antlers for hair and a reckless attitude. Next in line was a rogue with jet black hair and shifting brown eyes who insisted on throwing himself through the window and tumbling across the tables and chairs of the quaint tavern they were all residing in. A reserved and noble elvish swordsman soon joined them, as did a stern dwarven cleric, an inquisitive and serious monk, and a sorcerer who couldn’t keep from falling asleep. This’ll be a lively bunch, the tall, thin man thought to himself as he sat down at the table with the rest of them and introduced himself as Davian, cleric of Fharlarghn.

He made his typical offer of apprenticeship to the would-be students, and everything was going according to plan. That is, until Thorim – the dwarf – told him that he was skeptical about his claim as a cleric, as he was missing his holy pendant. Shocked, Davian searched frantically for the pendant, so absorbed in the loss of his symbol of power that he was completely unprepared for what was about to happen.

A half-mile away, the local lighthouse, responsible for magically enhancing the crops and giving warmth and light to the mountain in times of darkness, abruptly exploded.

A massive pillar of energy shot deep into the night sky, as chunks of the former lighthouse crashed into the tavern. One of these chunks crashed into Davian himself, and suddenly his students found themselves alone.

Alone, and with a squad of hobgoblins running towards the town – and the tavern.

To be continued…



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