It was a peaceful day in the town of Wintervane. A crisp winter air blew past the leaves of the pine trees, tickling any passerby with flurries of snowflakes. A merry spirit drifted above the houses, somewhere amongst the chimney smoke. Peace had fallen across the land and steps were being taken towards equality between elven and orc peoples.
Kiru, the keeper of the "Bell Tower Inn," sat outside playfully swinging on a porch swing. The swing was large and metal, likely of dwarven design, to support the Innkeeper's large build. Up until recently it was unheard of for an orc to run an inn, but Kiru proved all the naysayers very wrong indeed by easily being one of the best. As he reintered the Inn an elderly elf mage asks for another round of rhodomel mead. "One moment sir," Kiru says as he prepares the drink and slides it over to him. The mage smiles, thanking him, and tosses a silver coin Kiru's way.
Kiru already knew it was going to be a slow day. He exits the building and began shoveling snow from the path leading up to the Inn. Kiru whistles a tune as he shovels the layers of snow from the cobbled path. Suddenly and without warning Kiru is knocked to the ground and...
To be continued...