The troupe set forth in earnest to find their old friend and mentor, Douven Stahl. The man who trained them for a life of adventure had bade farewell and headed for a small town called Winterhaven. Douven, a rabid explorer of old ruins, found a map that revealed the location of a dragon’s tomb not far from the village. He figured if a dragon was buried there, why not also its hoard?
The adventurers waited for months for Douven’s return. With concern and anxiety too much to bear, they decided to set out in search for their lost mentor.
The most direct path to Winterhaven is old King’s Road. The troupe took this path with their weapons and wits at the ready. The journey seemed to prove uneventful until a rustling was heard in a yonder brush. Cautiously, a stone was heaved to flush out the source of the noise. Suddenly, a pair of pheasants erupted from the brush, already in mid-flight. Switchens, the troupe’s fighter, reacted quickly and flung another stone in hopes of securing the evening’s meal. Miraculously, the stone felled the mighty pheasant and there was much rejoicing.
As the troupe moved to secure the fowl, they found the catalyst of the initial noise – a snarling wolf! The wolf pounced and there was a mighty scuffle. However, the heroes’ might proved too potent and the wolf also fell to blade, mace and holy energies. Again, there was much rejoicing.
Wiping the wolf’s blood from their weapons, they noticed a trader emerge from behind a tombstone. Gushingly, he offered his gratitude and admiration for the quick way the troupe dispatched the wolf. There was a brief conversation and the trader confirmed the way to Winterhaven, but also gave a warning. Kobolds had been seen on the King’s Road and on the outskirts of Winterhaven. Raiding parties and highway ambushes had become more prevalent and the trader advised the adventurers to keep a watchful eye. Lucan, the troupe’s ranger, had not heard of kobolds and asked the trader to give a description. Unfortunately, the trader had not seen the the raiders firsthand and gave a very rough approximation as to the nature of the race. This did not please Lucan and he viciously insulted the trader. Fearing he might suffer the same fate as the wolf, the trader hurried down the road.
The troupe strode down King’s Road and approximated that they should reach Winterhaven by nightfall. They continued at a good clip, but stopped suddenly as they began to notice small, clawed footprints mixed in with the other common tracks and wagon ruts. Unsheathing their weapons, they cautiously approached some menacing-looking bushes. Suddenly, small creatures hiding behind rocks sprung into view. They moved rapidly towards the heroes – spears in hand. With a shriek, the small humanoids attacked. Scaled and rust-colored, these were the kobolds the trader had warned them about. The fighting was brief, but eventful. A cowardly Kobold Slinger lobbed both fire and glue pots from afar and to little effect. A stubborn Kobold Dragonshield engaged both Switchens and Lucan in melee combat. Paelius, the troupe’s cleric, helped from afar in healing his ailing teammates and inflicting his own brand of holy pain on the hapless kobolds. In the end, the ambush failed and the heroes once again found themselves triumphant – a trend they expect will continue for some time.
A few moments were spent searching the fallen kobolds for coin and weapons and severing their hands for trophies. As the sun began to fall, the troupe continued forward and before long found themselves at the gates of their destination… Winterhaven.