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A story of adventure
Our hero was your everyday meeple who owned an honest tavern. Every day was the same old day with the same old patrons. One day an ancient meeple with a strange-looking staff with a large jewel at the top walked into his tavern. He found an empty stool at the bar and ordered an ale. After many rounds, the old meeple began to weave tales of adventure and danger for anyone who would listen. Little did our hero know that tonight he would start his own story, and these tales which seemed full of mystery and imagination would become a reality. As the night dragged on, a group of hooded meeples walked through the door clearly searching for someone. They made their way through the crowd towards the old meeple. The tension in the air around the old meeple was palpable. As the group of hooded meeples approached him, he rose from his stool and faced them with his staff held firmly in one hand and his ale in the other. A conversation began between what seemed to be the leader of the hooded meeples and the old meeple, but our hero was at the far end of the bar and could not make out what they were saying. After a few minutes the old meeple screamed loudly in an unknown language and a blinding flash of light followed.
Our hero awoke, startled, and looked around. “Where is my tavern and where did everybody go? What happened to the old meeple, the hooded meeples, and what was that language he screamed in?” wondered our hero. It was dark and damp. Rising to his feet, he noticed the staff laying beside him. “Why do I have this staff?” He could hear the sound of waves crashing on distance rocks and what was surely a tide washing ashore “How did I get to the beach?” As our hero said this the bay started to bubble with an eerie light as something arose just offshore. Having only witnessed this nightmarish creature before in his dreams, our hero didn’t know whether he was truly seeing what now stood before him. He tried to scream, he tried to run, but all he could do was stand there in terror. His body wouldn't listen to him. Giving in to what was surely his impending demise, our hero bowed his head in defeat. The creature laughed. “This? This bartender is all my enemy could muster to fight me? I could end you with a single thought, without blinking an eye. Where is the fun in that? Gather your allies and we will meet again, young wizard.” Then there was another blinding flash.
Our hero once again awoke to strange surroundings. Before him stood a door taller than any building he’d ever witnessed with walls stretching in both directions as far as the eye could see. “What is up with all the bright lights?” wondered our hero. “Gather my allies... Who and what are my allies? And why did the creature call me a young wizard? I’m surely no wizard……….” He looked around, and there on the ground beside him once again was the same staff. Rising to his feet, he picked the staff up. As he did, the jewel began to glow purple and the door before him began to open ever so slowly. Seeing no other option but to either go through the door or walk along the outer walls into what seemed like an endless wasteland, our hero stepped past the opening. Once past the door, he saw an endless maze of hallways paved in stone. Our hero set out to find where this pathway would take him. “I just have to keep going forward. Eventually I will find my way home. Back to the same boring meeples that I have grown fond of serving at my tavern.” Just then our noble bartender heard a rustling in the bushes behind him. “It appears I am not alone in this place. I hope whoever is out there is friendly, or at the very least not hungry,” he mumbled to himself. “Who goes there?” the bartender proclaimed. He turned around to see a cloaked meeple aiming a bow and arrow in his direction. He raised his staff in defense and took a step back. Suddenly, the cloaked meeple withdrew her weapon, reached out her hand, and with the faintest whisper proclaimed, “It looks like you could use a hand.” Alone and afraid, our protagonist had a moment of doubt before choosing to extend his own hand. “I’m a ranger.” she said. “One of my furry friends, a fox from the forest I tend, was wounded and I was attempting to mend it. The critter was injured and afraid, and though I came in peace it scurried away under a door I had never seen before, and into this wretched maze. It’s been three suns since I entered this harrowing place and I have yet to find any sign of my friend.” “I’m sorry miss. I wish I could help you find your friend.” the bartender meekly replied. “Has it really been 3 days since you entered this place? I’m sure you must be hungry by now. I know it’s not much, would you care for some almonds? They are from the bar I own back home.” The barkeep slowly reached his hand into his pocket and produced a meager offering of lightly toasted almonds. As he presented them to his fellow traveler he heard a faint whine from the bushes nearby. “Could that be your friend?” he said as he motioned towards a nearby briar bush. With one fell swoop the cloaked figure snatched several of the almonds from the barkeep’s hand and scattered them by the briar. The thorny branches rustled and parted and a wounded little fox scurried out to try and snatch up the nuts. “You found my friend!” she exclaimed. “I guess this means I owe you one. I shall repay the kindness you have shown me by joining you on your journey.” The barkeep thought back to what the creature had said about allies and extended his hand toward his new friend. “I’m very glad to have you with me because I’ll need all the help I can get if I’m to survive this journey.” The two continued deeper into the labyrinth before them.