The Bishopshill Campaign
The Beast of Bishopshill
It is 652 TA. Even the spring rains which have come early to this part of the Reaches cannot dampen the enthusiasm of the townsfolk of Bishopshill. Times are lucrative for the rebels of the Bandit Kingdoms, and the town has rallied around the fight for continued independence from the Crown. The raids from Walworth, the newest barony established some 100 miles to the southwest, have intensified - mostly because of pressure from Tobias Doyle, the Third Paladin King. Bishopshill has withstood the knights, paladins and archers of Baron James Walworth just as it has weathered attacks from the dark creatures that have come over the years from the Shadowyarn Mountains to the east.
From inside the ramshackle pub, you hear a muffled voice - very drunk - "Curse the Mask and all his fuckin' knights". The Mask, a nickname for King Doyle, is so given because of his penchant for disguise and first-hand intelligence gathering. A roar goes up from the patrons of the Broken Crown. You smile, smelling the pungent smoke of the peat fire. You button up after relieving yourself of a slightly watered ale and are just about to return to the pub for another round when you see the bright tail of a meteorite as it drops through the low-lying clouds, striking somewhere deep in the looming mountains, no doubt.
As you pick your way through the crowded pub back to your usual table, the talk is still about the old dwarven prospector who came through town just a week ago. Not a Steelhand or Blackrock dwarf like most in the area. Called himself Krib and claimed no clan. He carried a satchel of great weight filled with an object the size of the largest summer melon. He never let the leather bag out of his sight, but Krib did giggle about "becoming a lord" once he took his prize to Teufeldorf. Whispers and rumors run the gauntlet from the largest sapphire ever found to a dragon's egg. Nobody knows. Krib left as suddenly as he arrived two nights ago.
As you round the corner, almost bumping into Ella Nightingale, preparing to sing a lonely ballad of forest life, you notice that the Heroes' Table is empty. A twang of unrequited love for Nightingale and a touch of jealousy for the Heroes - probably off on some great adventure. The Heroes Table, raised a foot from the common pub floor, is the ultimate pedestal of Bishopshill rebels. Long held by others, you gaze at its ancient polished surface, five silver mugs sit awaiting the return of the Heroes.
As you turn towards your own, humble table, the voices of your friends come into focus. "They're missing. Gone. As I've heard tell, the Heroes are lost in the mountains seeking the source of Krib's treasure." You smile, an adventure might just be afoot.
The A-Team
- Quinn Rabbitfoot, Hobbit Cleric
- Wrane Nightborne, Half-Elf Rogue
- Barov Goodhearth, Dwarf Druid
- Adalgott Quiteria, Gnome Wizard
- Jules Leo, Elf Monk
- Kol Ann, Human Barbarian
Team Bling
- Dugin, Dwarf Fighter
- Gary, Human Thief
- Gwen, Gnome Druid
- Rorik, Half-Elf Sorcerer
- Maron, Gnome Ranger
- Dr. Kovind, Half-Elf Cleric