Our journey begins in a small Vichian town near the northern border of Weimar named Oakhurst. Where a weary traveller, a feminine figure draped in a cloak, wanders through the small marketplace, her feet tired and heavy from many weeks of travelling. This woman was a Tiefling. Her skin had a purple hue and eyes gleaming a bright amber. Poking out from her ashen hair, a pair of pony horns reach out and back, betraying her demonic ancestry She quickly finds the local watering hole, an inn with a sign depicting a Boar on its hind legs, with a long beard and a walking stick. As it's still fairly early, the only patrons are a gaggle of humans playing cards on a corner table. They look up at the unfamiliar guest, raise a curious eyebrow, and return to their hands. Makes sense, she thought, Tieflings are probably few and far between this close to the border. She approaches the bar, where the Innkeeper, a grizzled old human with a large scar along his left cheek, spit-polishes a dirty glass. Behind him is a small collection of oddities on a crooked wooden shelf.
"Uh, hello mister. Can I get a room? Please?"
The innkeeper glances up, then back down to the glass.
"Got one room. You pay upfront and you don't complain about the price."
"Oh, alright! How much?"
"Five silver pyramids. And your name for the log."
"Nemaia." She tosses a gold coin onto the bar. "And maybe something to drink?."
The innkeeper takes the coin and slides over a mug of frothy ale, along with her change, three triangular silver coins. Nemaia takes a long sip of the ale, and takes a look over to the wall, where a community noticeboard has been set up. Better find some work, she thinks, the gold I stole from those border guards won't last forever. She examines one of the more recent notices. It tells of four missing locals, a group of would-be adventurers, who delved into some kind of citadel some weeks ago, and hadn't returned as promised. It told to see either the general store owner or the guard captain for further information. Nemaia quickly finishes her drink, takes the notice, and leaves, depositing the empty flagon on the bar.
A bell chimes, and Nemaia's nose is assaulted by an amalgamation of many different scented candles. She slowly steps into the store, where supplies of all kinds line wall-to-wall shelves. She glances around briefly, before turning to the counter, where a middle-aged woman, her dress hanging low over a pair of huge, milky, breasts, wipes her red and puffy eyes. Her hair is dishevelled, and she looks like a mess.
"Um, excuse me miss? Is everything ok?"
She looks up, clearing her throat and tidying up her hair. "Yes, I am. Sorry you had to see that." She clears her throat. "Can I help you with anything?"
"I think so, I was told to come see you." She presents the missing poster to the woman.
"Oh...yes. Wait, you're willing to help? Oh, thank you!"
"Yes, yes, of course! Can you tell me when they left?"
"They left about a month ago. My son Talgen, my daughter Sharwyn, and two of the guards. They headed west, to the ravine. It's been full of Goblins and Kobolds for years, I suppose they finally had enough, wanted to get rid of them."
Nemaia shudders at the mention of the creatures. She'd heard many a story about what they did to unlucky adventurers, especially the women. "This ravine, how far is it?"
