Banan's Hell/Heaven

Yo! This group should include Balth, Augur, Weathervision, Wysperra, and Flame!

The letter was short. It included everything you needed to know-people were disappearing in the parish of Harrog. The disappearances were inexplicable according to the letter, but the person who sent it, the leader of the Jhat house, said in the letter that they would tell you what had occurred when you met them. 

So now, you find yourself in a small inn in Harrog, thinking back to a dream you had a few weeks ago. 

The battlefield is in tumult. Hordes upon hordes of soldiers ebb and cascade upon each other time and time again like turbid waters as the gloam threatens to whisk away your senses and your life with the same. The loud echoes of war cries----and the cries of fallen men and women----define the field; light has chosen to not make its appearance. The stony ruins of a castle loom over the scene, dominating in their decrepit grandeur----but whatever lurks within is not grand at all. 

You cannot see it, but it will devour. It hungers, it yawns, it wakes from its slumber, and it prepares its final dominion. 

And then you woke up, hacking and wide-eyed, heart thudding through your ribs. It's not real, you reminded yourself, but it took ages to calm the rush of emotion that came with the dream. 

Now, introduce yourself: Where are you? Who are you? And, most importantly, why did the Jhat family, the ruling caste of the Harrog parish, call for your assistance in a task that required your immediate attention? And were there any things that happened specifically in your dream that wouldn't have happened to others?

Tonight, you will stay at the inn. Tomorrow is the day you will meet with the head of the Jhat House. Prepare yourselves for the struggles to come...

Surtr is in the corner of the inn sipping on his ale 

Dorpetor is playing cards with a few elves.

Dorpetor is a wood elf sun soul monk

The Jhat family wants my assistance because I know how to not blow things up.

The thing in only my dream was that all of the soldiers were skeletons

Kaygen Ashmore a man of pallid complexion and dark short hair sits by the fireplace ruminating on the disturbing dream. As he looks into the fire a part of him seems to still be on that foul battlefield where the shadows cast were unnatural voids dancing across the field as if poised to swallow all in that bloody battle. The Ashmore family for generations have served in the shadows with distinction, and it makes sense that the Jhat family would contact Kaygen with such an urgent request.