“ It is said by the village gray beards Of Breen, that the band of human exiles who founded their prosperous farming settelment almost a century ago,had to fight a long,savage struggle with the original inhabitants of the fertile valley;monstrous trolls that saw the new arrivals as meals, rather than as potential neighbours.After 5 long years, the humans with their superior steel weapons, drove the troll tribe into the bleak highlands and hills sourounding the valley.But as time passed, the old tale begun to become legend, rather than history and is regarded by most, as a mere story used by parents to frighten disobediant children.And yet the village leaders have always forbidden their people from wandering the hills....”
“ There are those as rich as kings but dress as peasants and worry not about funding. To visit their true homes one would see wealth of untold value scattered as dirt is in a hut. They know the monetary value of their possessions but they have long lost any true value to their owners. Experience is their currency and their curse. They dispense secrets of the ages as if discussing the weather. Few things have they not experienced so that very little gives them joy. They are the lost ones looking for new life while humoring the mortals around them.”
“ A young girl with a dirty face and tattered dress stands near the town market offering to sell the PCs freshly cut flowers. They are only a single copper a piece, and smell nice. Perhaps the PCs will be generous with their wealth, or they will not. Great for paranoid parties.”
