“ To become a warrior in a tribe. -no food, drink, or sleep for 4 days and nights. -change into special clothes and painted enter hut -slices of skin carved from their chest and shoulders -wooden skewers through the bleeding flesh behind the chest muscles -stout thongs, secured to rafters were tied to skewers -hoisted from floor by these and weights were attached to their feet -twirled around till fell unconscious -when recovered from this, given a hatchet to cut off their little finger -ropes then tied to wrists and force to run in circle like a horse until he passed out -if survive all this he can return to his family in honor knowing he is now a warrior.”
“ Stormbound, the ship rolls hard over to once side. All that is not strapped down is tossed violently overboard in a splash of freezing water.
There, on the horizon- a tower. Squat, it stands alone on a tiny island. However, it's the only land in sight, and any more of this ferocious storm will crush the boat to splinters.
Taking shelter within the ornate entryway of the squat tor, the party notes with interest that no signs of life break the silence of the stone tower. As they take another step forward, they realise why.
Traps.
This is the fabled tower of Brenji, a rich merchant who wished none to share his enormous wealth. He constructed this tower to store his gold- trapped and ready for any potential thieves. But the ingenious pitfalls and scything walls are not the only dangers within the silent walls of the building. A guardian, left behind by Brenji, still stalks these very halls.
A rattling hiss echoes somewhere from below...”
“ Could come across a band of refugees. Could have been thrown out of their town by a tyrant taking of their land, bought out by somebody unexpectedly, fleeing a battle they know is coming their way. Could be proof of what they are searching for, hints and tips of what is to come, or just to broaden the reality of the world.”