Spreading comfortably at the base of rolling hills with an inoffensive demeanor is the vaunted last bastion before the wilds, the town of Vertidor, known by its inhabitants by its nickname of Vertidor’s Rest. Nestled at the base of the Wolf’s Maw Pass, where the civilized lands of the Arandian Kingdom meet the untamed Borderlands, the stands between two worlds.
To the northwest, the roads are patrolled, the law is strong, and the Kingdom stands tall. To the southeast, there is only uncertainty, ruin, and the whispers of the past, or does it? Promises of fortune have captivated the curiosity of many, and tales of fertile lands have attracted settlers ever since the king’s armies conquered these lands decades ago. A fleeting conquest, as the province was never properly connected.
Vertidor has endured for over a century, originally founded in ages past as an imperial outpost—one of the last before some empire collapsed. When the Arandians conquered the valley, they rebuilt it as a supply hub for further expansion, though expansion never came. The Borderlands to the southeast proved too wild, too cursed, too costly. The kings of Arandia turned their attention elsewhere, and the province was left to fend for itself.
Now, Vertidor’s Rest is a town of transients—a place of traders, mercenaries, outcasts, and those who dream of fortune in the wild lands beyond. The kingdom still claims it, and the Church still preaches here, but both know that their grasp weakens with every mile toward the mountain pass. The village is small but lively, yet beyond the gates, the ruins of dead empires whisper forgotten names.
Welcome to Vertidor
Your paths, varied and likely troubled, have somehow converged here in Vertidor. This village isn't grand; timber-framed houses huddle together, their thatched roofs worn by wind and rain. A dirty track serves as the main street, lined by a handful of essential structures: an essential smithy, a provisioner's shop, small workshops, a church dedicated to the God of Light, and the town's only inn and tavern, The Mountain’s Last Light.
The cold wind howls through Verridor’s Rest, rattling wooden shutters and carrying the scent of snow from the mountains. The street feels tense. The air hangs heavy not just with the coming chill from the mountains, but with the weariness of folk living on the edge. Resources are scarce, the King's authority is distant and uncaring, and the wilds – full of beasts, bandits, and perhaps worse – press close. You, a conspicuous group of fifteen armed and capable-looking individuals, have undoubtedly drawn stares from bystanders. For now, The Mountain’s Last Light offers the only semblance of public shelter, its sign creaking mournfully in the breeze.
Players can introduce or describe their characters to each other briefly inside the inn's common room.
A Rat Problem
The innkeeper, Brenna, approaches the group. She's a stout woman with flour dusting her apron and worry lines creasing her brow.
"Forgive my boldness," she says, wiping her hands on her apron, "but you lot look like you can handle yourselves. I... we... have a problem. Rats. Not just the usual field mice, but big, nasty ones. Got into the cellar, bold as brass. Spoiling what little food stores we have left before winter really bites. I can't afford to lose more, and frankly, my husband Olwin is too stiff and my young Petyr is too scared to go down there anymore. I can't offer much – a hot meal for each of you, maybe a round of ale, and... five copper pieces apiece? Please, can you clear them out? Especially the big one?"
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Adventure so far:
Arrival at the Inn = this post
Descent into cellar = here
The fight with rats starts = here
Fight with the Big One = here
End of Prologue = here
