The village of Falhill is located on the Eastern outskirts of the Chindari Plains with a population of 748. Thousands of years ago, Humans and Elves co-existed together and fought the perils of the Chindari Plains side by side. In recent years the elves have all abandoned the Village of Falhill in search of residing with others of their kin leaving behind the Humans and the half-elves to survive against the deadly Chindari Plains. The village contains two taverns, the Wagon Wheel which is located on the southern tip of the Village and the Slippery Rock which is located on the north eastern tip, near the ocean. A small Leatherworkers shop, two tailors and two cobblers can also be found in the centre of the village along with the farrier, the carpenter and the mason. Beside the Slippery Rock is found the Fishmongers where the villagers can purchase their seafood for a low price, or what used to be a low price. In recent years they have found the fishermen have had a harder time bringing in the hauls, which they believe have been caused by the change in the color of the waters. Whispers traveled with the wind that the Swamps were inhabited by monsters and yet there was no accurate information to confirm, or deny these suspicions. The villagers were starting to train to protect their family and friends from whatever was causing their food to go into deeper waters.

The sun flared in the blue blanket above as six of the nine clergy members summoned a village meeting of high urgency. Despite not being invited, all businesses had closed shop to see if they could go eavesdrop on the closed door meeting. The weather was scorching in the mid-summer day, however the hunters were all hoarding inside the village waiting for Dusk so that they could go out and hunt the game in the Northern Forests. The head of the village, was a man that every villager aspired to become, he was strong willed, he was honest, and was never in a rush to answer, he was very wise in his ways. Taking his seat at the head of the table in the conference hut, those of importance, in the village, also took their seats awaiting the start of the meeting.

The room quickly filled with murmurs as the people of the village whispered what they knew about what was happening around the continent. The room fell to silence as the chief rose, his height was average but it was the way he held himself that maintained his authority in the village. His voice was heavenly as he was one of the minorities in the village, a half-elf.

Jamlamin Stalkingwolf spoke softly for he knew all ears were eagerly listening for the advice he was to provide to them.

"The Chindari Plains have always been a thorn in our side. We have always fought against the shadows of the land and have always maintained control of our lands. Our ancestors won the war for this land in the chaos of Trannyth's Era. We have forever found reserve in our blood, in the will of our Gods to keep control of these lands. We will not forfeit them now because of a shortage of food. We will seek further into the plains, and deeper into the waters to find food to maintain our families, and our friends. We will continue to prosper until our last breath. Falhill will survive this era and many eras to come."

The hall was filled with agreement and cheers, each statement causing murmur of agreement and boosting the confidence in the council members that they would rise above their nemesis. After hours of discussion the members of the council left the hall to inform the residents of their decision.

Before dusk had arrived posters were in both bars, and every business asking aid from anyone who would like to defend the city of Falhill against their enemies. In order to overcome the odds, and bring back the prosperity to the land they had once known. It was common knowledge that the Chindari Plains were hostile territory. Rarely did one enter the plains and live to tell the tale. A very large reward awaited those who would risk their lives to save the town.

Nadira scratched her face as she contemplated the poster outside the Slippery Rock. Her shakri had come to Falhill for their normal trade supplies, and she found out that they had planned on staying for a few days. In order to become a better warrior, she asked a few of the hunters if she might join them on one of their forest hunts. The prospect was greatly enticing to Nadira, for she had never pursued anything in the failing light. She now wondered how many would go, for the village seemed to be in general unrest after the town meeting.

Peaks of interest and waves of disgust hit Nadira as she read the posting. For her, life on the plains was hard, but not impossible. One had to know the way of the plains, the curves of the land, the movement of the herds, the song of the rains. If one wasn’t careful, it would be easy to succumb to the perils of such a desolate place. Nadira had to remind herself that not all were connected with the land, and therefore sometime felt confusion and anger about forces they didn’t understand. However, if the balance of life was really this upset in this part of the plains, that was cause to worry. Nadira knew little about things that might upset that balance due to being -supernatural-, but it was generally understood that such things shouldn’t go unchecked. It could lead to widespread disaster across the plains.

Her black shirt clung to the sweat of her body. It was far too muggy here by the ocean. She idly fingered the bowstring in her pouch. It would probably be best to leave her bow unstrung for a long as possible and put trust in the security of the village. Her bow would save no lives or feed no bellies if it was ruined by the moisture hanging in the air. Pulling her loose shirt away from her skin, Nadira made her way into the tavern to see what else she could find out about Falhill’s recent dilemma.

Freki the direwolf was resting peacefully by the fire in the Slippery Rock. Freki was known to the innkeep who knew that despite the reputation of the direwolf, Freki was different.

He was listening to the chatter in the bar, knowing that anything work knowing would be discussed by the patrons and he would learn of anything he would be interested in.

Tonight, the patrons were discussing the Elder's speech and that they were wanting people to go help hunt for more food. Freki was interested and he moved closer to the humans who seemed to be more knowledgeable that the others.

In walked a Chindari. (hmm, haven't seen one of those in a long time. I wonder what she is doing here?"

Tultaur woke to sound of gulls.
The morning shone through the window in the Slippery Rock. Tultaur rose from his bed, moving the short sword next to him to the nightstand. He dressed, and proceeded to clean himself up. When he was satisfied, he went to equip his armor and weapons, which rested on the nightstand. His armor reflected the wavering light, despite its years serving him, and his draconic helm sat in vigilance. He grabbed his short sword and placed it in its sheath. He than grabbed his crossbow and clipped it to his hip. Despite most crossbow, Tultaur wielded a repeater crossbow; its magazine box housing many arrows at the ready. Lastly his halberd, Frostbane, its 3ft broad sword blade glitter from the frost blade, rested against the headboard with its 6ft light blue handle. 3 ripping blade spikes lined the back of the main blade, only adding to its deadly features.

Slinging the large halberd over his shoulder with ease, he headed to the bar to enjoy a meal and drink. The innkeeper seemed to keep a large direwolf near the bar, but paid little attention to it since it didn’t seem hostile. Leaning in his chair by the window to enjoy the ocean breeze, he took a sip of his mead, which he enjoyed with the money he gained from guarding a small caravan to Falhill. A simple job really, only 3 bandit groups tried to raid the caravan, which were quickly dispatched. To him that’s a good day, and he plans to enjoy the benefits.

The tavern was in talk of the meeting the village that had happened earlier. Keeping an ear out, he listened for the details. Hearing of the reward, he grinned with anticipation. Just then a Chindari girl entered the tavern, her bow slung behind her and her black shirt clinging to her skin. A table of the patrons instantly began talking about the girl that arrived.

A Chindari girl here, just when the village is in need?...Things just got a little more interesting. He grinning, his armored hand grabbed the cup of mead, and took a good long drink.

The noise in the common rose when the Chindari walked through the door. The number of people packed into the room, combined with being indoors gave Nadira a claustrophobic feeling deep in her chest. Her gaze swept the room, and she was immediately seized by a desire to draw the dagger at her side. A jet-black wolf was looking towards the door. Her brown eyes searched his sparkling blue eyes. As hunter’s gaze met hunter’s gaze, Nadira let out a slow breath. She saw the glint behind the look that meant there was more to this wolf then meets the eye. That and the distinct lack of panic from the patrons allowed her to ease her own alarm.

She had seen wolves hunt before. They were unmatched in their ability to hunt as a pack in an effortless display of prowess and cunning. The lack of fear that they displayed while taking down prey many times a single wolf’s size had always astounded Nadira. The fact that there was one, and only one, here in a room full of humans was even more astonishing.

‘Unsettled balance indeed’, she thought to herself.

Ignoring the eyes that were raking in her Chindari features, Nadira made her way toward the fire. Rather than keep her eyes on the wolf and present an unwanted challenge, she instead looked to the fireplace itself. It was a marvelous thing to behold. The body was made entirely of stone, and had a long, continuous slab of rock placed on the top for a mantle. Rocks and stone were not common on the sweeping grasslands of the Plains. Nadira had seen rocks when she came to the coast, but it was rare for her to venture into any of the buildings. These permanent structures were too disconnected for her taste. Too invading. It didn’t allow the land to recover from the damage of inhabitants. Even so, to see so many stones piled together to create something this large still brought a sense of wonder.

Nadira carefully made sure to pass in front of the wolf so as to not cause alarm by passing out of sight behind. Upon reaching the fireplace, she slid her hand down the mantel, taking in its flawless quality. This was much better. The angle from the fireside gave her a full view of the tavern’s customers. Her dark eyes looked back down, and the Chindari continued to contemplate the meaning of such a mighty creature here in a distraught village.

Freki watches the Chindari with some amusement. Her brown eyes did not make contact with his after the initial contact, yet she watched him carefully as she made her way to the fireplace.

She, like Freki, do not belong with civilization. Yet here they are, watching, waiting for something to happen.

Also entering the bar was a tin man. His glance at Freki showed that he completely disregarded Freki's presence in the bar. His gaze then returns to the Chindari.

"hmmm", he thinks," She might be a kindred spirit."

While listening to the conversation around him, he watches the Chindari do the same. He decides he likes her scent. Slowly, silently he makes his way to her, and lays down at her feet.

Inside the Wagon Wheel, very late at night, a very angry hunter was having a very bad time.

Haver was just blowing off some steam, that’s all. He was just angry that he was out of the hunt before it even started. And the manner of the wound was embarrassing as well! Having your arm brutally lacerated by a feral beast merits honour, but severe bruising of the genitalia delivered by a waitress’s knee is simply upsetting.

“I was complimenting the chef!” he argues to Andrei angrily, lying in his bed with cushions on his crotch. “The CHICKEN breast was very tender, I said!” Haver looked pathetic, really.

But he was like a father to Andrei. Actually, he was more then a father, he was a mentor, a teacher and a hunting partner. It’s just hard to sit next to your second father-figure while he alternates between fuming and whining about his horrible handicap.

Haver and Andrei came to the Chindari Plains to hunt for more ferocious game, but Haver can’t hunt. Haver can't even walk. If only Haver couldn’t talk! On and on with his excuses and justifications.

“Boss, you knew it would have been misunderstood” Andrei says, in his thick Slavic accent.

“She’s crazy! She’s possessed! She should get her ears checked!” Haver yells.

“She should get her knee-muscle spasms checked too” Andrei says through a grin.

The conversation deteriorated to an exchange of profanities, and eventually, Andrei, pitying the poor disabled man in the bed, left. Stepping outside, he realized he had several weeks to fill while Haver made a recovery. Andrei could not bear to just spend his time sitting by Haver’s bed like a nurse, so he decided to go look for something to do.

At the crack of dawn, Andrei occupied a room at the Slippery Rock, and deposited his belonging under his bed. His hunting pack as well as his armor fit neatly under it. He changed into a brown cloth tank-top, leather soled cloth moccasins and loose cloth pants.

Andrei had a throbbing headache in part because of Haver’s crabbiness, and in part because he hit his head on the top of the threshold on his way into his room. After changing, he proceeded downstairs to examine the posters outside the Slippery Rock, or at least he tried to.

While passing the blazing fireplace, which seemed odd to him since it was so stuffy, he nearly tripped over a huge, but calm dire wolf. Andrei was not scared, just surprised. He knew how do deal with these savage beasts, but this one was not so savage. He guessed it must be domesticated or something, so he turned steadily again to get outside, only to walk into a young Chindari woman by the mantelpiece.

“Sorry.. wolf is not angry” Andrei mumbled in apology, not sure exactly how little sense he just made.

He must’ve made quite a spectacle of himself, because he could feel everyone eyeing him. When he reached the door, he looked around the tavern, and as he scanned the establishment the clients’ heads dropped. Except this one freak by a window, armed to the teeth, leaning back in a chair against the wall. Andrei gave him his meanest dirty look, and stepped out the door.

Alador walked slowly towards the "slippery rock", thinking about how he had come to be here.
He didn't really remember his family, his first clear memories was living on the streets, sleeping in alleys, stealing food, and running from the guards. Until, he got caught, and, was sold as a slave to the mercenaries guild, where he was trained to fight, and sold agin to his master. Now, being on his own, he had no idea what exactly to do, or, where to begin.
He noticed a poster on the front of the bar, just as a tall man walked out looking like he was angry at someone, looking at the poster, but watching him in his periphery, as he brushed the fingers of his left hand across the light crossbow on his belt under his cloak, and loosened his grip on the short spear he was useing as a staff. Alador, was unsure about everything, if there was something to guard, or, watch over, yea, but, normal life, he was just puzzled. He had no focus, no responsibility, and, noone to tell him what to do.
The poster offered a reward, was that alot ? How much would a meal cost ? To many questions, and not a single answer.

Siarl slowly makes his way towards the edge of town. He hated leaving Nadira, but he had to hunt on his own occasinally.

Having lived among the Chindari most of his life, Siarl had met his fare share of the "Common" races. He knew how people would react to him if they saw him. At best, a curiosity, at worst a bounty or monster.

As he neared the village, following Nadira's scent, he kept to the shadows, the back alleys, blinking out of sight whenever he crossed someone's path. He had learned well the art of stealth.

The scent grew stronger. Siarl's tail wagged slightly at the prospect of being reunited with Nadira. He picked up his pace, trotting onward.

Finally, he came to the building she must be in. Siarl had seen these before as well. Many humanoids would gather here, drinking until they lost their senses. Siarl stopped short, snifing the air. He knew that scentl There was a wolf about. Surprisingly, it was coming from the tavern. Siarl tilted his head and cocked his ear. There was no screaming. Perhaps a successful hunt then.

He moved through the door, ignoring any reactions the occupants may or may not have had for him. The wolf was a dire wolf. Far from being the victim of a hunt, it seemed perfectly healthy. Perfectly able to attack. And it was resting by Nadira's feet. Siarl's hackles rose as he slowly walked over, careful to keep in sight of the wolf. He would not provoke it yet, but if it threatened Nadira....

Still alert, Siarl sits at Nadira's feet, taking in the tavern for the first time. A variety of patrons, in varied stages of drunkeness. It mattered not to him. He kept his ears open, one eye on the dire wolf, and waited.

Having had the day off from his black smithing he had went to the peer early that morning to fish. After the sun diped deep into the horizon, Thal made his way back into town were he enetered the slippery rock inn. To his dissmey it was packed with travelers and of corse the "normal" suspects. He whent over to the bar were it semed less crowded near the dire wolf, and polled up a stool near the great wolf. As he began ordering his eveaning meal. He noticed the strange woman behind him as well as the heavly armored man who had walked in just a few moments befor him, how he missed this fellow was puzzeling. Never the less the bar seemed a buzz with news.

Affew men siting at the bar near him were speaking of plans for a hunting party. It seemed that the council had made there desision and had started a witch hunt. For the sorce of there missing "food". As the bar keep made his way back to him with his food, he had wondered wat best could be scarring off all of the other bests.
Thal pondered over this for meny moments. To witch he had let his food get cold. It had been some sort of red meat, covered with some means of suace. He absuntly wondered if the wolf would eat sutch a thing and then desided that he had given up on his meal all to gether.
The talk around the room being more intoxacting than his meal. At that Thal desided that the wolf just might eat it. He sat the plate of half raw meat at the dier wolfs maw and moved tword the center of the room to lisen in on wat had happened this day wiel he had been away.

After turning his nose away from the rancid meat and laying down by the Chindari's feet. He notices a strange scent, one he does not recognize. After resting for some time. A large dog enters the room. He instantly recognizes this is the origin of the strange scent.

Marking the scent of this new dog like creature. Freki understands that this creature is bonded to the Chindari.

Understanding this, Freki yips, "my apologies" and moves away to the other side of the fireplace.

Observing the man who had given him food, he notices he has the scent of iron upon him. And has the same type of scent as the alpha male of the village.

The Direwolf stretches out and continues to listen to the conversation around him.

Siarl lowers his head and gives a light growl of consent. This wolf was not like the others. He relaxes slightly, laying down at Nadira's feet, now paying more attention to the rest of the room.

Tultaur was holding back his laughter, seeing the clumsy idiot make his way to the door, even bumping into the Chindari girl by the fireplace. Seeing the fool stare back at him with poison in his eyes, He could only grin as he took a sip of his drink.

His eyes suddenly snapped to, when he noticed another wolf coming in, nearly drawing his short blade from its sheath. He fit the blade back only when the wolf laid itself by the Chindari’s feet, next to the dire wolf, leaving him only to ponder the animals’ fondness towards the girl.
Finishing his drink, he decided to head outside to check the posters for more jobs that might be heading in the same direction the village’s troubles might be, or at least close by.

Andras Nelanare stood behind the busy bar listening to the gossip while serving the patrons of the bar. Standing behind the bar, at 5ft even, combined with his slightly pointed ears revealed his heritage to be a half-elf. The bartender had always enjoyed a steady flow of customers, but tonight was busier than usual since everyone was turning to the drink to help soothe their worries following the revelation of the clerical circle.

The Half-Elf walked over towards the fireplace to provide his regular Dire Wolf with his favourite meal. Bending down, he pet the brute affectionately then fed him his meal, turning towards the lady he nodded respectfully to her. The Chindari people were highly respected in Falhill, especially by the few remaining Half-Elves. The bartender greeted her in his angelic voice: “Good Day fair lady, might I interest you in a drink, or some food?”

As he awaited her answer, another canine entered The Slippery Rock and immediately went to the stranger’s feet. He tilted his head slightly in question but smiled regardless at her answer and moved to the next patron who was also located not far from the fireplace. Tultor was the next patron that he approached, nodding to him in greeting “Good Day Mi Lord, would you like a refill on your mead? Could I also interest you in taking a meal?”

When Andras received his reply, he would move to the next patron one at a time until he had spoken with everyone. His elven ears catching tidbits of information with every group he passed. Everyone was handling the new differently, some were talking about training to embark on the mission, others were talking about leaving Falhill altogether. The bartender moved back behind the bar to gather refills on drinks for the patrons who accepted, and put in the orders for food to the chef.

While behind the bar, he heard the mumblings of a regular, somebody who had been renting a room for quite a while with him. Casually watching him leave, Andras shook his head gently and went back to those who ordered drinks to pass them out speaking to them in a friendly manner. Everyone knew that Andras was a great barkeep and he always kept his patrons happy, and the bar itself was always clean.

As he stepped back behind the bar a female voice raised above all other “Lord Nelanare, I must speak with you this instant.” The half elf nodded and handed his towel to one of the waitresses and he stepped towards the woman greeting her in a respectful way. The bartender escorted the lady to a quiet table not far from the fireplace and spoke to the lady about the posters outside of his establishment.

“We ask that you leave the Slippery Rock, and embark on the journey. You have been here for over half a century and you have always known Falhill as your home, we know that your people have trained you to be efficient with your blades. I know you are half elf and half human, but I also know you have the skills required to embark on the mission to save this town. Your ancestors left you and a flock of other half elves here to protect this city until the Elves return. Please, do us all a favour and apply to the Cleric Council. We need you; nobody has of yet, volunteered. I think that if they see a respected figure such as you, they would be lining up to save this town. What do you say my friend?”

Andras Nelanare studied the woman as she spoke, listening to her words carefully. Hiding beneath the cloak was his old friend Surani Sarayn, her crystal blue eyes had always sparkled when they spoke to one another. Her voice made it easy to determine who she was, but he was lost in the memories of their youth. She had saved him as an infant, and he owed her his life, he would embark on this journey for her. He allowed the silence to float in the air for a moment as he considered his words carefully.

“Lady Sarayn, I thank you for coming out this night, and I am honoured with the words you have bestowed upon me.” He smiled to her and raised his voice slightly so that those nearby would hear the words that followed. “I will be joining the mission to save Falhill, it has been my home, and will always be my home. I will go in the morn’ to the council to ask that they sign my name for those interested in joining the hunt.”

Surani nodded but spoke no words she allowed Andras to kiss her hand and escort her to the exit. Slightly troubled he headed back behind the bar and poured himself a beverage. Always cunning, was this friend of his, and she always managed to convince him to do things to try to prove his worth. After pouring himself a pint of mead, he retreated into the back to consider his plan, and to work on his fighting forms. It had been a few years since he had trained as hard as he intended on training this night.



The guards were surveying the streets and the territory around the village with more attention than usual. The Cleric Circle had caused them some discomfort and they felt as if they were to blame for anything happening to their village. Travelling in pairs they made their way in front of the Slippery Rock and surveyed the patrons coming in and out of the bar. Both guards were human and knew the reputation of the half-elf who managed his bar so well, always were they jealous of his accomplishments. A known warrior who spent his nights in the bar serving the weary travellers, and training both before and after every shift. The Wagon Wheel had always needed bouncers to keep the fights out of their building, but not the Slippery Rock. Andras’ reputation was enough to keep the tenants from becoming rowdy and destructive. Never in the history of the village, had they been needed to break up a fight in that bar.

They continued their rounds keeping a close eye on those around the streets. They noticed a man standing in front of a post reading the poster attached to it. Slowly, cautiously they approached the man and started a conversation to try to get a feel of the man lurking near the bar.

“Good Day Sir, what do you think of the situation? The Council seems to want answers yesterday, but hopefully things will work themselves out. Falhill is not ready for a war, let us hope it’s just bad luck keeping our food away.”

The second guard shook his head but waited for the man to reply to the question in hopes of figuring out what he was doing, and thinking. Impatiently they awaited Tultaur’s response, their eyes surveying his appearance and also the shadows nearby to ensure they were not to be ambushed. The Guards had learned in training being so close to the Chindari Plains was always a threat, and they constantly kept watch for wild animals searching for easy prey.

“Ompf! My apolo..”Nadira started, but was cut off almost instantly by a man with a thick accent.

” Sorry.. wolf is not angry,” he spoke to her in passing as he made his way towards the door.

She silently watched his tall, muscular frame as he walked away from her, and she puzzled over his words. Dwellers certainly were a strange lot. Nadira suddenly felt self-conscious, wondering if her manner of speech would confuse these people native to the area. Now that she was more aware of where her body was, she felt another presence coming up from behind her. Slowly, the Chindari turned to face the new arrival.
Nadira’s dark eyes locked onto the bartender’s as he spoke to her.

“Good Day fair lady, might I interest you in a drink, or some food?”

She smiled, and considered the half elf. His seemingly short frame did nothing to dissuade the deadly grace that he moved with. It was something Nadira was used to seeing in the warriors of her shakri. Something she had yet to achieve.

Her mind cast about for pleasantries that village dwellers used. “Yes, um, kind sir, hot tea please.”
Another wave of unrest rippled through the tavern. Her gaze went again to the door were a large gray dog was making his way to her. Relief touched her thoughts. Worry always gripped at her while Siarl was away, but she knew better then to take too many of these thoughts to heart. He was turning into a fine hunter, and she knew their connection would allow her to sense anything amiss with him.

Nadira danced slighty out of the way as he made to sit on her foot. She reached a hand down to scratch him behind the ears once he had settled in, glancing briefly at the wolf that had now moved away from the two of them.

“I hope there wasn’t anything…. unpleasant in that, Siarl,” Nadira thought to the dog at her feet.
“Perhaps a meal for my friend and I to share?” she added to the half elf.

The half elf moved with the appearance of one who felt at ease no matter what the circumstances. He moved about the bar, checking on patrons and gathering orders without missing a beat in what could only be described as a tavern dance. Nadira accepted her tea with a mute nod. Small talk with village dwellers left her feeling uncomfortable at best.

As she engaged in silent small talk with Siarl, Nadira attempted to eavesdrop on the villages in the tavern. It was to no avail. The cacophony of many voices at once did nothing but confuse her. She was beginning to feel claustrophobic again. Just as she was considering telling the bartender to forgo her meal so she could be free of the tavern, a cloaked figure approached the bar. Words were spoken between the two of them, and Nadira thought she could make out a feminine quality. The bartender finally spoke a sentence that stood above the din as clear as day,

” I will be joining the mission to save Falhill, it has been my home, and will always be my home. I will go in the morn’ to the council to ask that they sign my name for those interested in joining the hunt.”
“Finally,” Nadira thought to herself,” someone who might know what’s going on. Are you coming, Siarl?”
Feeling distinctly ill at ease, she made her way towards the bar. Being social in such a setting had really put her on edge, and her mind again strayed to the dagger that was resting at her hip. As she watched the half elf take a drink of his own, Nadira pulled her sticky shirt away from her skin once more. Anxiety hit her again as she struggled for the right words.
“Ah, greetings again, uh, kind Elandili . I was wondering what has happened here? Why the call to arms? We only just arrived today.” Nadir's breath caught in her throat as she finished her statement. Her eyes flickered around the room as she pressed into the bar, attempting to create more space between her and the crowd around her.