Chapter 1: Into the Mists
The trek to the temple is rough and hard, but the thieves and beasties and general not-so-niceties of the roads typically steer clear of people who look like they can handle themselves in a fight. It is for this reason that you four, one way or another, manage to form some semblance of a group as you make your way up north towards your common destination. Despite your differing backgrounds one thing you share in common is that none of you have ever traveled up into this region, so aside from the occasional caravan pointing you in the right direction you're mostly just following the roads and hoping they'll lead you to where you're going.
In one particularly long stretch in between towns, you find yourselves wandering what appears to be a massive forest of green, teeming wildlife abound as the dirt trails stretch off in both directions endlessly. Traveling on foot makes it tough on you to keep a steady pace, and you're forced to make camp once or twice between the trees despite the looming bad weather in the distance.
As you continue traversing this lonely path, each of you notices in spurts the surprising speed at which the weather shifts for the worse, turning from a clear spring night to near overcast, then to thick rolling fog that sweeps closer with every passing minute. This latest night it nearly comes up to the edges of your camp, like the faint embers of your campfire are the only thing keeping the pure darkness at bay.
Despite this you agree you have to keep moving, and when all have you have woken up you step onto what little of the dirt road you can see and push on. Soon after you move the mists begin to recede, shying away to a comfortable distance as the faint morning light begins to peek out from above - though only faintly, shrouded behind a blanket of thick clouds. Still, at least you can see the road in front of you, slowly turning from mud to light gravel.
The trail, now not much larger than a faint footpath, eventually opens up to what seems to be the edge of a run down village. This early in the morning it almost seems like a ghost town, empty streets whistling in the wind and creaking doors barred shut.
No sooner do you enter the village proper is your attention taken by a soft whimpering to your side. Glancing over you notice two faint figures standing at the edge of the lifeless street, standing just outside of a massive house that pokes out of the looming mist.
The trek to the temple is rough and hard, but the thieves and beasties and general not-so-niceties of the roads typically steer clear of people who look like they can handle themselves in a fight. It is for this reason that you four, one way or another, manage to form some semblance of a group as you make your way up north towards your common destination. Despite your differing backgrounds one thing you share in common is that none of you have ever traveled up into this region, so aside from the occasional caravan pointing you in the right direction you're mostly just following the roads and hoping they'll lead you to where you're going.
In one particularly long stretch in between towns, you find yourselves wandering what appears to be a massive forest of green, teeming wildlife abound as the dirt trails stretch off in both directions endlessly. Traveling on foot makes it tough on you to keep a steady pace, and you're forced to make camp once or twice between the trees despite the looming bad weather in the distance.
As you continue traversing this lonely path, each of you notices in spurts the surprising speed at which the weather shifts for the worse, turning from a clear spring night to near overcast, then to thick rolling fog that sweeps closer with every passing minute. This latest night it nearly comes up to the edges of your camp, like the faint embers of your campfire are the only thing keeping the pure darkness at bay.
Despite this you agree you have to keep moving, and when all have you have woken up you step onto what little of the dirt road you can see and push on. Soon after you move the mists begin to recede, shying away to a comfortable distance as the faint morning light begins to peek out from above - though only faintly, shrouded behind a blanket of thick clouds. Still, at least you can see the road in front of you, slowly turning from mud to light gravel.
The trail, now not much larger than a faint footpath, eventually opens up to what seems to be the edge of a run down village. This early in the morning it almost seems like a ghost town, empty streets whistling in the wind and creaking doors barred shut.
No sooner do you enter the village proper is your attention taken by a soft whimpering to your side. Glancing over you notice two faint figures standing at the edge of the lifeless street, standing just outside of a massive house that pokes out of the looming mist.
