The ring he found in the entrails of the wolf that killed his father served him well. He would use it to avenge his fathers death. Those that sent him out to his death would pay.
Tommy the Thumb must have messed up. What did he miss? Who saw him? Was it a inner guild rivalry surfaced? Either way Tommy the Thumb must now dodge authority and his guild to get away safely.
In a village the characters hear rumors of a man that recently came through screaming of demon attacks and murderous insects.
A shaman like man appears out of nowhere and asks if any of the PCs have ever heard of him.
A long forgotten and abandoned mine has been recently rediscovered by a local village.
A large explosion was heard 4 days ago coming from the foot of the nearby mountains. Ever since then no trade wagons have come through as they usually did.
AutoMedon – A mechanical poet of renown not for his vast catalog of poetry, but for his complete lack of anything written or spoken, having had no output in his programmed profession. His creator is unknown or at least unaccredited, and there are those in great number in the artistic world who wonder and marvel at his inability to produce poetry, crediting that flaw to his creator who is unknown or at least un-credited. There is also a small faction of scholars who believe that when he finally, finally speaks, it will be the most beautiful or sorrowful verse ever spoke or will ever be spoken. Whether his creator is among either group or dead is unknown. AutoMedon sits alone under a tin roofed enclosure, upon a stone chair, with his gaze off in the distant as if thinking.
“It’s strange to look at this mechanical man and think what thoughts are working through its’ workings or even if the damn thing is” – Aralis of Qurim, poet and pottery salesman