Nestled in the rocky foothills of the snow-capped sword Mountains is the mining town of Phandalin, which consists of forty or fifty simple log buildings. Crumbling stone ruins surround the newer houses and shops, showing how this must have been a much larger town in centuries past.
Phandalin's residents are quiet, hard-working folk who came from distant cities to eke out a life amid the harsh wilderness. They are farmers, stonecutters, blacksmiths, traders, prospectors, and children. The town has no walls and no garrison, but most of the adults keep weapons within easy reach in case the need for arms should arise.
Visitors are welcome here, particularly if they have coin to spend or news to share. The Stonehill Inn at the center of town offers modest lodging and meals. A couple of doors down from the inn, posted outside the townmaster's hall, is a job board for adventurers. Adventurers are in high demand currently, as recently a white dragon was driven down from the crags to the Sword Range, which he claims as his domain.
Alas, who has the time for 5 paragraphs exposition about the nuances of Draco-Orcish relations and the ever-changing competence of Martial and Municipal authorities along the sword coast. Let's introduce our characters through good old-fashioned prose.
The Stonehill Inn is a modest roadhouse with 6 rooms for rent on the second story, and a tavern on the first. The Inn is owned by Toben, A Male Human, whose surname is the establishment's namesake. 4 of the rooms are soon to be rented out for the night.
It is late in the Evening when Faurgar Starag, also a Male Human as well as Tavern Regular, enters the Stonehill Inn. "Good Evening Toben" chimes Faurgar. "Good evening Faurgar, what can I get you?". Faurgar looks over the menu, "No Braised Dragon?" he inquires."You know that wouldn't be incredibly sensitive given that there's a White Dragon flying about" replies Toben candidly, "Besides, I'm out of Crocodile meat and the Hunters are too damn anxious to trek down to the Mere." Faurgar nods before reading the menu.
Before he can select the "Braised Phoenix and Artichoke" meal, two women enter the bar. The first a rather tall Dwarf brandishing Chainmail and a Greatsword, followed by a rather Short Elf wearing leather armor and a longsword by her side. "Good evening ladies," Toben says in his usual friendly demeanour. "Welcome to the Stonehill Inn, I presume you're looking for a room?" Before either can respond Faurgar quips "I'll take 3 Braised Phoenix and Artichoke meals, and 1 mead each." While the Dwarf handles the rent, the Elf takes a seat next to Faurgar. "Trying to be smooth?" The elf asked sarcastically. "Trying to be an elf?" Faurgar responded. "Really? That's gotta be the 600,000th time I've heard somebody 5 inches taller than me say that." She chuckled, "Get better at roasting, than we'll talk"
"That's a shame, somebody like you probably has a lot of good stories to tell. I'm Faurgar by the way." "Hadarai, and I got 3 centuries worth of stories, songs, poems, ballads and melodies in my repertoire." The elf responded.
"So what brings you to Phandalin?" Asked Faurgar "Prospecting? Building a new life?" "Stopping by, I'm from Waterdeep, I'm headed to Neverwinter for a show." Hadarai stated. "Neverwinter? I'm originally from Neverwinter, my family lives there." Said Faurgar, "I actually tried to become a wizard..." He trailed off. "Yeah, but I moved out here a couple years ago when the rush was still big, got tired of regimental education I guess. I know a few spells but I don't really use them that much." The Dwarf took a seat next to Hadarai. "Hi, I'm Ulfgar Brewfinger, and you are?" she introduced herself assertively. "Faurgar, Faurgar Starag. Nice Sword you got there." "I'm escorting Hadarai here to Neverwinter." Ulfgar pointedly states. "Braised Phoenix and Mead for you three." After a debate about the ethics of branding Spicy Chicken legs as "braised Phoenix" ensues, it is soon interrupted by two male outsiders sudden entrance.
A Halfling runs into the tavern with a bag of coins in his hands. The owner, presumedly the Mace Wielding Mulani in pursuit, being separated from his pickpocket by the flat side of Ulfgar's Greatsword. "Alton Brushgather, would you please be so kind as to hand the bag of coins back to this man?" Alton looked at Ulfgar with surprise "Seems we meet again, Sergeant Ulfgar." "There's no need for that, I was just messing with the foolish Lightfoot." The man stated. "I already have the coins back." he asserts as he holds the bag of coins marked in the symbol of Bes. "Mehmen Chien. Priest of Bes." "Rather young to be this far from Mulhorand" Inquires Ulfgar. "Especially during an active rebellion." "I'm here on official Business." Replied Mehmen. This was not entirely true, an image of the Mishapen deity had told him to come here "to seek the secrets of his past". "I don't care what deity you worship" Snapped Alton, "You're arrogant as the Dragons and need to be humbled."
After calming down, eventually talk turned to the subject of the Dragon. After a discussion involving topics such as...
- Faurgar's active work in recording History and Arcane Lore and desire to defend his home.
- Ulfgar deciding that a White Dragon would be a strategic threat to the Sword Coast's trade network
- Hadari electing to participate in the hunt and writing it all down for posterity.
- Alton getting in on it just because he wants to help out how he can.
- And Mehmen in on it because Faurgar made a bet with him that Arcane Magic is better than Divine magic.
"Well, seems like you guys are thinking of going after the dragon?" says Toben. "You probably need more experience in the adventurers sort of work, but we have a job board for a reason. If you guys manage to kill the dragon, how bouts some actual Braised Dragon for the trouble?"
"That would be amazing." faurgar says, accepting the proposition.
Thus begins the adventure of these 5 acquaintances that will either end in death or glory.
