Susan Evensong Thu Dec 28, 2017 3:14 amYou have been kept waiting for quite awhile. When the letters arrived directing your party to this quiet town with a strange aura, it had specified that you should arrive at 12.
A quick glance at the clock reveals that it is in fact 12:45, you've been sitting boredly in this tavern for the last 45 minutes. You probably would have left already had it not been for the fact that the letter informed you about the passing of Old Man Noctula. It had taken you aback at first, whether related through blood or simply happenstance, you hadn't thought your relationship had been close enough to warrant being personally informed of his demise, let alone an inheritance. Yet, here you are. After all, Noctula had been quite rich, what was the harm in hearing things out?
You cannot be sure if the tavern is experiencing an afternoon lull, or if business is just bad, but one thing you can be sure of is that it is dull.
A few regulars have positioned themselves around the wooden bar, resting elbows on the well worn surface and chatting idly with the bartender. A few others seem to have found various places to drift quietly in and out of consciousness. One man snores loudly as he sleeps almost defiantly under a sign that implores patrons not to nap in the bar.
You find yourself almost ready to join him in blissful unconsciousness when the door swings open and a well dressed, stern looking young man enters.
Without bothering to apologize for his lateness, or introduce himself, the young man sits down at the nearest table and shuffles through some paperwork before getting to work immediately.
"I trust you are all here about the inheritance? I will need your full names before we can proceed."
A quick glance at the clock reveals that it is in fact 12:45, you've been sitting boredly in this tavern for the last 45 minutes. You probably would have left already had it not been for the fact that the letter informed you about the passing of Old Man Noctula. It had taken you aback at first, whether related through blood or simply happenstance, you hadn't thought your relationship had been close enough to warrant being personally informed of his demise, let alone an inheritance. Yet, here you are. After all, Noctula had been quite rich, what was the harm in hearing things out?
You cannot be sure if the tavern is experiencing an afternoon lull, or if business is just bad, but one thing you can be sure of is that it is dull.
A few regulars have positioned themselves around the wooden bar, resting elbows on the well worn surface and chatting idly with the bartender. A few others seem to have found various places to drift quietly in and out of consciousness. One man snores loudly as he sleeps almost defiantly under a sign that implores patrons not to nap in the bar.
You find yourself almost ready to join him in blissful unconsciousness when the door swings open and a well dressed, stern looking young man enters.
Without bothering to apologize for his lateness, or introduce himself, the young man sits down at the nearest table and shuffles through some paperwork before getting to work immediately.
"I trust you are all here about the inheritance? I will need your full names before we can proceed."
