The Adventure Begins

The town of Orrinshire is a small knit community set beside the Longslade River. It is bordered on one side by a great conifer forest that the townsfolk boast about for its great hunting and gathering. The town is surrounded by a great wall made of the trees of the forest. While the town guard is small, they actively patrol the streets and wall for any signs of disturbance, inside or out. The buildings all share the same architecture, made of wooden walls and ornate wood shingled roofs. The small-town square holds its only Inn, a merchant shop, and a blacksmith. The majority of the market sales are held in bizarre style carts lining the town square.

***

Evangeline and Duinhir passed through the southern gate and strolled past the houses headed for the market. A few steps behind, Duinhir watched Evangeline as she seemingly stopped to marvel at everything from the houses to the people that occupied them. It took far longer than he anticipated before they reached the town square. It was nearing dusk and he was nearly out of patience.

Duinhir pushed Evangeline toward a two-story building that sported an old wooden sign. 'The Silver Frog Inn and Tavern' was carved into the wood and well faded from repeated beatings from the weather. As the fog rolled in from the river, Evangeline pushed her way through the door. The roar of the crowd gathered at the tavern was nearly deafening to her elf ears causing her to pause momentarily in the doorway. Not liking the attention from the wandering eyes of the patrons Duinhir passed Evangeline by and made his way up to the barkeep.

"Two tankards of ale and two rooms." Duinhir ordered.

"Ya can have da ale, but we only gots one room left available this eve." The dark-skinned woman replied as she took a rag to two tankards.

Mortified, Evangeline watched him agree to the one room as he was passed the ale. He took the room key with the carved number thirteen on it and motioned Evangeline to a table in the back corner that was unoccupied. As they took their seat they surveyed the other patrons in the room. Stories traveled to their ears of the adventures of these men and women but nothing seemed to get his attention. Evangeline however, was completely enchanted at the stories, listening with obvious intensity.

The barkeep strolled up to their table with her pitcher ready to refill their tankards. As she poured another round of drinks for them she eyed them over.

"If it adventure you seek, there is rumors of a place not far from here where magic of great proportions is being used to resurrect one called Abbadon." She stated.

"And how would you know this bit of information?" Duinhir asked.

"People talk, well the ones that survived talked. There's a guard at the door all who approached have died." The barkeep replied before turning away with a swish of her dress.

"Sounds promising." Duinhir stated.

"Death to all? Sure, why not? And What is an Abbadon?" she replied finishing her ale.

"About to find out." He finished his ale as well. "Right after our rest."

They made their way up the back stairs and entered the thirteenth room. A bed, chair, and table occupied the space. Duinhir nodded at Evangeline to take the small bed, dropping his bag next to the chair. She dropped her pack next to the bed and before she could get comfortable enough to sleep, Duinhir was already passed out, arms folded across his chest, much like he was the night before. She closed her eyes and entered her meditative state until all things around her no longer exist.