The Caer Falken Inn

You trudge your way up the old road into the ruins of a once mighty fortress. Crumbling battlements and fallen towers litter the area as a dim reminder of old glory. Not far ahead, you see smoke, and in hope, you seek out its source.

You come across a large building of wood and stone. Perhaps it was once part of the castle, or maybe it was built amongst the ruins. A creaking sound is heard in the wind, and your eyes find a sign above the door that reads Caer Falken Inn.

Passing the few horses tethered to the post, you enter through the heavy oaken doors. The smell of smoke and baked bread greets your nose as the warmth of the fire breathes life into your cold and aching limbs. But more intriguing is the variety of people who lounge about at the many tables.

Elves, dwarves, halflings, gnomes and folk of indiscernible background freely mingle among the humans. The dress and accoutrements of these folk range from the Spartan to the outlandish, yet each and every face shows that it has a thousand tales to tell.

As if in answer to these thoughts, a stunning woman with raven hair and scarves of every hue enters the room. All eyes and ears are upon her as she takes a stool and begins her tale. Only the crackling fire dares to make a sound as she speaks, filling the minds of everyone present with magnificent tales of heroes and villains, dragons and demons, valiant knights, cunning thieves, exotic fey folk, corrupt politicians, hideous fiends...

What's this? Does she speak your name? Where are you, and how did you find yourself in this strange land with these other people? What happened to the sound of the woman's voice and the warmth of the inn? It's unimportant. That band of brigands is bearing down on you and your new friends, and it is time to fight or flee.