The Adventure Begins!

It was a dark and stormy night...

... but fortunately today* everything has cleared up!  The sun was bright, the air was crisp, and the leaves were beginning to change colour.  It was on track for one of the better days of the month in the small town of Kassen, deep in the Fangwood of Nirmathas.

The village square was quiet and almost completely empty.   There was a sense of anticipation in the air -- everybody was awaiting the ritual that marks the departure of the band of merry adventurers to the Tomb of Ekat Kassen, the town's famous founder.  It has been almost four years since the last band set out to retrieve the eternal flame and bless the town with many more years of prosperity.

Perhaps I should say the village was quiet and almost completely empty.  The village square... was not.  Four of the adventurers waiting in the town were quiet -- the small halfling with the bright purple hair, leaning up against a rather sizable wolf, was not exactly meditating on the fall weather.

"Are we there yet?  I hate waiting around.  Nice day, huh?  Anybody want to play chase the leaf with Scaffle?  He won't bite, well as long as you don't get in the way.  Wow, it's quiet, can't you just hear the quiet?"

"Be patient, little Geizel," speaks another of the adventurers, a rather imposing half-orc with an intricate symbol of Desna laying flat on his muscular chest.

Off to the side a young varisian lass, with a bow strapped to her back and an athletic look about her, kept glancing off to the guard tower in the distance.  "We're all a bit itchy for some adventure, Kravor," she says.

"Anca is right, there's a whole world out there!  This is the first of many tales they will spin of deeds of Gwargem, so let's get this show on the road," spoke a young and energetic half-elf clad in supple, well worn leather with a brace of daggers across his chest.

"You say this now, on a bright and sunny day, but you may not be so eager when we are weary from battle and strife," came the wise words of the half-orc Kravor in response.

Off to the side, a young halfling clad in deep, somber robes with mystical runes slowly nodded his head and returned to his stiff pose.  He stayed that way, staring into the distance with an intense look on his face... until a piece of his fake beard pulled loose.  He surreptitiously smoothed it back into pace with a quick glance about, hoping nobody noticed.

It was just after this that the townspeople began to filter into the town square, walking quietly and in unison, saying nothing and wearing black robes and holding stiff expressionless faces.  A few minutes passed as they slowly came in and stood in a large semi-circle facing the now quiet and attentive adventurers.

And so it begins.

*Today is the 4th of Neth, 4710 AR, for the historians out there.