Liberated Souls

The story so far, part 1

An elven cleric looking to introduce the Elsir Vale to his goddess Melora. A human fighter leaving behind a family of wizards. A halfling rogue, tired of the shadowy corners of Overlook and curious about what there was to see beyond the city’s borders. A half-elven warlock who’s out for… action. An eladrin wizard, thrown from his home for setting one thing too many on fire. And an elven ranger on a self-appointed mission to keep his Vale safe.

It wasn’t fate that brought them together. It was a band of goblins that overran the city of Brindol.

Our adventurers each found themselves relaxing at the Antler and Thistle Tavern when the attack came. Bork chatted up one of the waitresses, a brunette of average build who introduced herself as Mirtala. Sneaky joined a game of chance with three locals who saw an outsider and thought her a source of easy money – and were quickly proven wrong. The others relaxed about the bar, either enjoying their drinks quietly or chatting with the proprietor, a man named Jak who was unusually quiet for a bartender but had a reputation among the locals for putting thought and wisdom into the few words he spoke.

Outside, something clattered and a woman screamed. Kella looked at Jak and asked, “What’s going on?” The man listened to the growing ruckus outside for a moment and simply answered, “Trouble’s coming.’ As if on cue, the tavern doors crashed open and in rushed a stream of goblins bent on destruction. “For Sinruth! For the Hand!” the lead goblin shouted to his audience of bewildered patrons. A few brave souls made makeshift weapons out of items ripped from the walls; many tried to escape but failed. A goblin grabbed the woman Bork had seemingly made progress with and hauled her towards the back door; the warlock tried to save her but was unable to catch the kidnapper before it disappeared into the chaos erupting in the city streets. It fell to those who would soon call themselves the Liberated Souls to defeat the invaders, but by the time the last goblin was dead on the floor, the tavern was well on its way to burning down. In the aftermath, concern began to spread among the townsfolk as it became known that the attackers bore cloth sashes with blood-red handprints on them. Had the Red Hand of Doom returned?



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