Your average posse of adventurous types is hired by a wizard to stop the attacks on a small village.
A blade that lives, and has lived for millennia.
"Thentr was made from moonlight and flame; he has killed one of the mighty rulers of the skies; he has yet to return home".
-Old Cro, the story teller
The story I am about to tell you is one of magic and of monsters, of bravery and courage, of good and of evil, but most importantly of Flame and he who wished to quench it - Old Cro, the story teller.
The numorous denizens of Thanethia all in one place.
The Wizard-Brewers of the Old Empire stored memories in bottles of mead, passing their brightest ideas, most subtle magics, and most important decisions on to their heirs in bottles of oddly-flavored honey-wine. A cache of these ancient magical vintages has been unearthed, but does anyone dare drink from it? The ancient mead's creator is a complete mystery, as are the thoughts he left behind.