You wake up in the small town of Regnum Pax, as the sun shines through the windows of the Lost Lives tavern. The once bustling establishment now barely sees any customers, and reeks of poverty and depression, unlike the rest of the town. Ever since the so-called "hero's party" managed to slay the demon king and rid Tirterra of evil, an era of peace washed over the continent and has stayed for many years. The downside? Monster attacks have been less and less frequent, which means that normal adventurers find less and less work opportunities every day. "Hero's party" my ass. As you sulk in the tavern, you notice you're not alone. Six other unlucky souls also sulk in the tavern, drinking away their misery with what little coin they have left.

As you look around, you notice something - The quest board actually has a quest on it. Holy crap. It's been 3000 years...

In your drunken stupor, however, you can't remember everything exactly, so... who are you?

(Hey folks, Apathy here. Please introduce your character. Do try and and check the form daily so you don't miss any of the action)

Holth is a greyish half orc who, while normally partying, instead seeks to eat his eggs in peace. His Grey skin is covered up by a modest tunic with a woolen pelt tied around his waist. He openly stares at the quest of the quest board in shock, checking the lae in his glass before looking again.

Thawdaum spots Holth from a mile away, mainly since he hasn't touched a drop of alcohol unlike the rest of the inebriated fools in this place, and notes his similar grey skin. A fellow half-orc, huh? Poor thing. He walks towards him, his wide, imposing frame looming over the seated figure as he mutters 'Got your eye on that quest, huh? If you are wanting to take it on, make sure you know what you're getting into. Hasn't been a single drop of good, honest adventure in living memory, so I'm sure the desperate adventurers around here are going to pounce on it in no time. And those desperate adventurers, happen to be myself.' He turns away and walks towards the quest board, the eye-shaped pendant hanging around his neck jangling against his chainmail, and then plucks the notice from the wall, striding back to Holth and planting it face up on the table with a scarred grey mitt, allowing anyone else interested to come over and read too, if they're not scared off by the array of weapons strapped directly to Thawdaum's back, including a hefty warhammer. His sunken eyes scan the paper as he mutters under his breath 'Now what do we have here?'

It's been 20 some years since Rowe had returned from the Feywild, and despite him not interacting with the public much, the couple interactions that he did have, were not pleasant. For whatever the reason, they saw a walking and talking doll not to be the most inviting of characters. Maybe if he was in better condition, but years of fighting and torture will do a number on fabric. So instead of being out and about, he decided to find an almost always empty tavern and sit in a corner, pretending to be a lost kids plaything.

Anyone in the tavern who does even the smallest of glances in his direction, would see a 2'5 stuffed bear, sat up against a wall. The blue/grey fabric shows wear and tear from years of misuse and thus, has patches of other colored fabric on it. It's dressed in wizardesque clothes, and laying next to it, is a staff, made for it's size.

Anyone who looks even closer, may even notice that every once in a while, it's head is in a different position.

Thawdaum:

The quest doesn't have much written on it, and what it has is bare bones in it of itself. The notice states that the job is a simple track-and-capture job, and that the quest giver would be willing to pay enough platinum pieces to get you set for life should you get it done. There's a location written and circled on the paper with an arrow pointed at it, with writing stating to "come here if interested". There's also a small note at the bottom of the page stating that the quest giver suggests bringing as many able bodies as you can, seeing as you'll most likely need it.

Dorrn sits with his head flat on the table. Clad in armor that looks as if it has not been polished in years. On the table next to him is a lyre that he randomly plucks and sings quietly to himself “In the end it doesn't even matter”. Dorrn has messy black hair and looks as if he has not shaved in weeks. Seeing that someone walked over to the job board Dorrn holds up his arm extremely unenthusiastically.

“Huzzah, another dead end job on the board.” 

"Did you say adventure?"

A giant of a bugbear stands up from his table, where he had been eating a nice-sized hunk of ham with eggs, cheese, and bread to help round out the breakfast meal, and makes his way over to Holth's table as Thawdaum plants the quest on the table for any to read. The bugbear is wearing leather armor over traveling clothes, and has several weapons about his person, two daggers, a shortsword, and a couple of short bows, all within easy reach, along with a few tool cases also secured on his person.. The faded rusty color of his fur and fanged smile help betray his lineage as that of a bugbear.

"Gromedark hear you say adventure and share paper from quest board with your friend here! Gromedark make very good scout and have maps that help everyone not get lost!"

The big bugbears ears droop a little.

"Gromedark not have anything happening now! Gromedark want partake adventure!"

Holth looks at the new duo now at the table with a bit of suprise before regaining himself. "Well, uh, you two are right about things not happening soon," his voice is more deep then gruff, likely a thing that has to do with his heritage rather than personality. "But, this is a tremendous opportunity. Gromedark, with your scouting skills, and me and, er," he hesitates a bit as Thawduam never told him his name, "this guy's strength, we can CLAIM GLORY LIKE THOSE HUMAN KNIGHTS IN FAIRY TALES! By the way, my names Holth," he extends his hand to shake.

Dorrn pushes himself off the table and looks at Holth.

"Well if there is glory involved count me in! It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Holth. My name is Dorrn and as for what I can do you ask. I like to think of myself as a Jack of All Trades. I can heal you or light you on fire ... literally and figuratively."

The stuffed bear sits in the corner and watches the group of adventurers discuss the quest poster. He waits a moment and contemplates joining. It had been so long since he's been outside. He wasn't sure how he'd do, but he also knows that staying in and hiding is no way to live, and if he was going to spend the rest of his life as a stuffed bear, it was high time he made his presence known.

From behind the group, the sound of a dragging stick can be heard on the floor. And soon, a deep voice (similar to niblers from futurama) can be heard.

"It would be nice to get outside the city... Does it say if it'll take us outside the city?"

To anyone who wants to answer the voice, roll me an INT check

Gromedark's INT: 20 (nat. 20)

Gromedark:

You know that the address on the request is on the other side of town. In fact, you know that the location in question has been abandoned ever since the Era of peace began.

"Hey, who make toy talk like real person? Gromedark like magic tricks!"

Gromedark will take a moment or two to stare at the toy bear waiting to see if someone takes credit or makes it do anything else. After the immediate novelty wears off Gromedark turns his attention back to the quest poster and what it says, pointing to the place marked on the map.

"That place located other side town! Nothing there since peace era began!"

Dorrn seems excited by Gromedarks words. 

"Do you know why nothing is there anymore? Why has no one returned now that there is peace? This seems like a mystery for us to investigate! This quest is getting more interesting by the minute."

Now Dorrn focuses his attention on the bear.

"What should we call you little friend?"

The bear thinks for a moment, it's hand rubbing his head in thought. "Abandoned? Hmmm..." An abandoned place is better than a place filled with people... It's not outside the walls, but it's something... "I will tag along. Hopefully my abilities will come in handy." He then turns towards Dorrn, answering their question. "My name is Rowe... At least, that's what I've been called for as long as I can remember."

(Image of Rowe for those interested)

Thawdaum has been fairly quiet since reading the notice, and now a party seems to have sprung up around him. He looks about at the group and says 'Well...looks like we've got a group sorted for this then. My name is Thawdaum. I'm a war cleric of Gruumsh, so when it comes to tension, don't expect me to be patient. My hammer can settle a score easier than my words.' His gaze then falls to look at the little stuffed creature the group has been fixated on, muttering 'What in the nine Hells are you meant to be? You look like something my daug-agh-gagh-' Midway through a word he suddenly gives a sharp intake of breath and it gets caught in his throat, however he then tries to mask his spluttering gag being as if it's a cough, 'Agh-ahum, I, uhh, meant to say that it must be difficult living in such an awkward form. I've always lamented the fact that ones birth race has such a hold over their life whilst also being entirely outside their control.' He then moves the conversation topic to address the quest at hand, 'Seems we've got a general idea of where we're heading, so we can head off when we're all ready.' With the group of 5 standing in the centre of the tavern, he can certainly feel the gaze of the other patrons within, so he wheels around to call out 'Anyone else want to tag along whilst we're here, or should we go and snag this quest and coin without you?'

Rowe listens intently, and when the breaking of the word is had, he gives an understanding nod to the man. The bear checks his gear, makes sure his staff is still well enough to do what he needs it to do, then looks to the group. "We're ready."

"Takes some time walk other side town! But early still, let's get going!"

Gromedark will pay his tab and once outside the 'Lost Lives' begin leading the group through the streets of Regnum Pax.

As the others begin to gather around the notice, a stocky halfling woman clad mostly in leathers and heavily tattooed approaches the group from the back of the tavern. "I'd like to tag along, if you'll have me," Panya pats a hefty-looking warpick at her side, "I can lend some strength, if you catch my meaning." She glances briefly at the more unusual of their companions before shrugging, having learned long ago that she isn't the type to question other folks' business.

She'll follow the group out of the tavern and throughout Regnum Pax.