Hotuko
New Member
How each of you heard of the small town of Puppenspielplatz varies from person to person. Perhaps the gossip vine, perhaps a personal invitation from a member of the community, perhaps even a simple flyer that was once flying freely in the breeze and got caught by foot or leg.
But what truly matters, is that the town is in danger and sent out a call for adventurers from any walk or form in life to aid them in this darkening hour.
Some of you might have arrived early to this town and meet with the mayor's sectary, a stern woman with steel in her eyes, ice in her heart, and a tongue made of sweet, poisonous berries, to get told that there will soon be an open meeting for adventurers to learn the troubles of the town shortly besides doing a tavern crawl. Some of you have gotten to the town in just the right moment to attend the meeting. And there's also the chance that some of you may just be completely late and miss out, which is just life happening.
Ah, the town itself... if it weren't for the call for help, you would be surprised that anything threatens the area. The streets are semi-clean and free of beggars and the poor, the buildings on the main roads are nicely maintained and well painted, with summer flowers growing in window beds, and the people seem quite friendly. But taking a second look around and truly looking at the people, you begin to notice the streets aren't free of garbage and that the beggars and the poor are between and behind buildings. That the people's eyes dart this way and that, worry and fear fill their voices as they ask themselves and their neighbors about any new deaths or morbid gossip.
Regardless of everything else though, at the appointed time in the town hall, the town's mayor greets those adventurers that have come to aide the town once more with a small, tired smile on his aged and weathered face. He greets each of you while standing, the proud adventurers that have come to aid for one reason or another in his personal office.
“Welcome, travelers and adventurers, to my fair town of Puppenspielplatz. We are in desperate need of answers or just salvation.†The mayor waves at the office's free chairs and couches as he sits down on his own chair, his face weary from everything. “Nearly two years ago, this town had a peaceful agreement with the kobolds in the hills. That we each tend to ourselves and trade, that both sides won't attack the other. That broke down when a large tribe of what we can only describe as Half-Orcs appeared and drove the kobolds away. To this day, we still have no idea what happens to any person caught by the Half-Orcs.†His face tired smile turns into a frown, but he continues on with his tale.
“Nearly a month after the Half-Orcs appeared, the forest just started... changing. Fey that we've never seen before attacked our hidden manors within, captured our playing children. We don't even know what happened to the dryad and fairies we once knew to inhabit the forest.â€
The man, aged by both time and trying times looks at you all, eyes pleading and begging for help. “And recently, our farms have started to be attacked... raided... by both sources of worry. Our stocks of supplies won't last us beyond a few more years should we lose all our farms.â€
This is it, the man has laid out the problems that plague his once fair home. Now would be the time to decide your course and steer your fate.
But what truly matters, is that the town is in danger and sent out a call for adventurers from any walk or form in life to aid them in this darkening hour.
Some of you might have arrived early to this town and meet with the mayor's sectary, a stern woman with steel in her eyes, ice in her heart, and a tongue made of sweet, poisonous berries, to get told that there will soon be an open meeting for adventurers to learn the troubles of the town shortly besides doing a tavern crawl. Some of you have gotten to the town in just the right moment to attend the meeting. And there's also the chance that some of you may just be completely late and miss out, which is just life happening.
Ah, the town itself... if it weren't for the call for help, you would be surprised that anything threatens the area. The streets are semi-clean and free of beggars and the poor, the buildings on the main roads are nicely maintained and well painted, with summer flowers growing in window beds, and the people seem quite friendly. But taking a second look around and truly looking at the people, you begin to notice the streets aren't free of garbage and that the beggars and the poor are between and behind buildings. That the people's eyes dart this way and that, worry and fear fill their voices as they ask themselves and their neighbors about any new deaths or morbid gossip.
Regardless of everything else though, at the appointed time in the town hall, the town's mayor greets those adventurers that have come to aide the town once more with a small, tired smile on his aged and weathered face. He greets each of you while standing, the proud adventurers that have come to aid for one reason or another in his personal office.
“Welcome, travelers and adventurers, to my fair town of Puppenspielplatz. We are in desperate need of answers or just salvation.†The mayor waves at the office's free chairs and couches as he sits down on his own chair, his face weary from everything. “Nearly two years ago, this town had a peaceful agreement with the kobolds in the hills. That we each tend to ourselves and trade, that both sides won't attack the other. That broke down when a large tribe of what we can only describe as Half-Orcs appeared and drove the kobolds away. To this day, we still have no idea what happens to any person caught by the Half-Orcs.†His face tired smile turns into a frown, but he continues on with his tale.
“Nearly a month after the Half-Orcs appeared, the forest just started... changing. Fey that we've never seen before attacked our hidden manors within, captured our playing children. We don't even know what happened to the dryad and fairies we once knew to inhabit the forest.â€
The man, aged by both time and trying times looks at you all, eyes pleading and begging for help. “And recently, our farms have started to be attacked... raided... by both sources of worry. Our stocks of supplies won't last us beyond a few more years should we lose all our farms.â€
This is it, the man has laid out the problems that plague his once fair home. Now would be the time to decide your course and steer your fate.
