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Chapter One- Departing from The Bridgewalk Tavern
There was a time when the lands that encompassed
the Flanaess were a testament to man’s awesome capabilities. But
everything that begins, must end; everything that grows, dies; light
begets shadow; and so it was also with the great civilizations of the
Flanaess.
Our tale about the dawn of this dark time begins in an
unassuming place: a drab, near empty tavern known as the Bridgewalk
that serves flat beer and unsalted mutton. For it is in this riverside
tavern that stands on the brink of a vibrant merchant quarter, in a
tired city that stands on the brink of one of the greatest civilizations,
a civilization that stands on the brink of catastrophic war, that four
unlikely heroes meet for the first time. Two were too young to
understand better what they are about to undertake, one too old to care,
and the last was driven by an impulse that would carry him wherever
the currents so sought. It was in this unassuming tavern that
this unlikely band decided to head south away from the new war that
was consuming the northern lands and raged at the doorstep of many of
their homes, to a forgotten land that knew only war for centuries and
was thus home to no one in particular for too long. It is at this
point that I wish to begin our tale.
It may seem odd that I begin a story about the lives of
four tragic heroes at the point where they decide to embrace their death.
Maybe it would be just as odd to begin a story about the end of a civilization
at the dawn of its destruction. After all, why not tell about
those events of thousands of years before, why not those about the beginnings
of the universe, that ultimately planted the seeds of destruction?
And why not speak about those events in our heroes lives that pushed
them to such a fate? I wish, however, to tell the tale from
the perspective of our heroes. They sit across the sticky, beer-bloated
table from each other and peer into the eyes of the unknown. They
also sit across the raging Velvadyvra River and into the hollowed unknown
borderlands of the south. In both cases what lays before them
will ultimately determine their fate, and the fate of the world as they
once knew it. And in both cases, it is what they left behind that
will be the light that will shine their path. Our tale is the
shadowed path that lies in front of them, the light behind them being
only revealed by the way the shadow dances.
The new morning brings the first crisp breeze of summer's end.
Blorys and Jerdren meet at The Bridgewalk Tavern early as expected,
but instead of heading out early, they sit for breakfast and discuss
the details of their traveling plans with their four new recruits.
It would be Etterbok by nightfall. By the time Liga, the sun,
reached halfway to her pedestal in the morning they were heading out.
Evidently their placating prayers to Fharlanghn, God of travel, were
not enough to banish a frightful omen: just as they were walking over
the bridge to reach the southwestern side of Verbobonc, it seemed as
though time stood still. Frozen in place for just a few moments,
their consciousness raced ahead in wonder at how everybody seemed to
be unable to move. It was later confirmed by travelers and passerbys
that this aberration was felt as far south as the Keep: rivers stood
still and even the winds were dead, but after a few moments, everything
went back to normal. As they travelled out the southwestern gate
by another ill omen: the thousand or so souls, refugees from the north,
who would wish to seek the comforts and safety provided by Verbobonc's
majestic walls. By late afternoon, our heroes were confounded
by yet another omen in the sky: a strange bird of unknown origin seemed
to circle above the caravan.
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