Fools Rush In
Like many good stories, this one begins in Sharn.
The day was overcast, but neither cold nor windy. The Adventurer’s guild had been on a recruitment drive and had set aside the first day of autumn as their Open Day. Flyers littered the streets and posters adorned the walls of alleyways and libraries.
The crowd outside the Adventurer’s Guild was busy. There were easily one hundred people gathered outside. In the true nature of adventurers the assortment gathered today was a motley one. Of the races most were present. Men beside elves, dwarves, gnomes and halflings, orcs, goblins, and all of the varied and flavourful fauna of Eberron were represented. Dark robed, cowled arcanists stood beside armour plated juggernauts. Archers with longbows taller than they stood towered over shady figures with quick, darting eyes and faster hands.
Some of these were chancers, some were vagrants, few would make it through their first task. They would either die or leave. Returning to their lives of begging for handouts with broken spirits. But in this crowd there was another breed to be found. Heroes.
Like unrefined gold ore still buried deep within the stone, these heroes would need to be spotted and set aside. Exposing them to extreme environments would cause the pure gold to come streaking out, leaving behind the empty husk of stone. And with this pure gold, and a bit of shaping, moulding and temperance, we can forge new weapons.
So let us begin to apply some pressure.