[Crack!] T'was a dimly lit evening, the sky a dark looming charcoal gray with occasional strikes of storm flashing in the distance. The people of Town's Town packing up their wares in hopes to beat the imminent storm. " THERE! " screams a guard frozen in the street. The people look up from their business with curiosity, starring into the hill to which the guard is pointing. [CRACK!] Another bolt of lightening strikes the tree catching it's flesh aflame. Adjacent to it stands a silhouette; partially illuminated by the fire. The merchant crowd gasps in fear. An aged woman rises from her place, eyes glossed over with decay, and barks through her stained teeth " Gods have mercy... " The storm picks up, wind and rain pound against the Tavern's door loosely held together by rusted nails. The warm heat of the earthy fire keeps the building alive as death approaches the door. Slowly pushing the door open the scene of a poorly thought out attack on the only remaining life within the Tavern decorates the now burgundy wooden hall. Five adventurers tankards in hand mumble quietly among each other without seemingly noticing the being at the door. Till an iron-clad warrior sternly speaks over the group hushing them in turn, "Come with another tale? Speak your piece... Dungeon Master ..."