Welcome to the town of ! We are a small coastal town, but still very lively. We do hope you enjoy your stay here. The two guardsmen outside the town gate almost seem to be speaking in unison. It is clear they both have given this speech multiple times before.
While you are in , there are a few laws we expect you to abide by. First, it is prohibited to draw a weapon in public. Second, it prohibited to use any form of magic that can cause damage to the structures in our beloved town. Third, and most importantly, our town frowns greatly upon attempts to subjugate or control others, whether through blackmail or sorcery. The straight faced guardsman gives his speech with utter clarity. As soon as he finishes, the clearly younger looking guard pipes up with, It's also prohibited to resist arrest. His superior quickly glances at him before rolling his eyes.
Have a wonderful day. As they finish their speech, the guards step out of your way, and you enter through the gates...
Two days later, as you are starting to get a feel for this small, quaint town, wondering when something "lively" is going to happen (or perhaps wondering if it's time you move on already), there is suddenly the sound of commotion. You head off in the direction, realizing quickly that it seems to be coming from the Town Square. As you get closer, you can see people gathering around something. Quickly pushing your way through the crowd, the image and the words come as one.
...NIGHTMARE! Horrible spikes... and... and those eyes... like a spider... Oh, Pelor! Oh, Talyn! It... out of the tree... Talyn! The woodsman is covered in dried blood, his face and clothes smeared with dirt and sweat, evidence of a long run and many, panicked, falls. Kneeling in the center of the square, weeping and screaming, any state of shock has passed and the once somber woodsman is now reduced to a sobbing mass.
Not a moment later, two guardsman push their way through the crowd with blankets in hand. They both take the blanket and wrap it around the man, who just sits there, limply. The half-guide, half-force the man into a standing position and lead him away. Once standing, the gash in his twisted leg is evident. It is clearly a severe wound, and does not appear to be made by an animal's claw or any woodsman's axe.
The crowd doesn't disperse, as would be expected however. They stand there, and it isn't long before the whispering begins. Hushed whispers permeate the mass, and the same two phrases are repeated... The Mad Mage. Silkur's Revenge.
When pressed for information, the townsfolk just hang their head, almost as if in shame. After a few more minutes pass, the crowd begins to part, as a group of people enter the center square. There are six of them in total. The tall, graceful, auburn haired woman in the emerald green gown leads the procession. The four that follow her are clearly elderly. Their gray beards and thinning hair reveal their age more than their portly stomach's reveal their moderate wealth. Each is dressed in proper, stately robes, and walks with an air of self-infused superiority. The sixth man stands a full two hands above the others. Dressed in platemail, this stocky man carries a flail on his back that looks to be too large for him to weild.
As the procession stops and the flail makes its final clank in connection with armor, the woman glances over the crowd and begins to speak. Four and a half moons ago, the Mad Mage Silkur was exiled from our town. Although he claimed innocence, we all know he was the only capable of causing the collapse of the abbey's bell tower. Some say he swore his revenge that day, and it may be that he is attempting to claim his revenge this day. We, the , she says with a sweep, passing over the other four, aging members, hereby request the service of those would go into the Aged Forest and discover the meaning behind the death of Talyn Marn.
