Black Fang

Pickpocketed!
You all realize that if you want to keep travelling, you're going to need to make some gold, and fast.

After the tale, you all realized you had been pickpocketed. You all began to chase after the dwarf, who was joined by a rogue fitting the description of Oren’s tale. After a fight on the run, Glif cast a fireball which obliterated the dwarf, but the rogue got away.
You returned, found lodging, and taking some advice from the Innkeeper, decided to go to see Farmer Truscan about his troubles with “The Cave,” but not before purchasing some items in the town of Sandbridge.
The town has a large bridge running over the river formed entirely out of natural sandstone, after which the town was named.
You arrived at a large wooden gate, flanked by tall wooden fences. Two guards stand in front of a tall wooden entryway, which bears a sign reading “Truscan’s.”

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Oren's Tale
A tale of adventure...

You defeated the bandits, finding little of value except for a necklace with a black, fang shaped pendant.
After dealing with the bandits, you party enters, where introductions are made and food and drink are served. A rowdy dwarf barges in, and begins to tell a tale…
Dwarf at bar
“Bartender! A round for every man, woman, and heck, child – if they can stomach it!”
“Come round, come round, I’ve a tale of riches to tell you all!”
“Aye here, how many you folk been to Sandbridge? None? Well I guess there’s not much to it, standard river trading town, occasional monster problems… But one day, not too long ago, something was different. The villagers could feel it in the air. Even as the farmers awoke they knew that day held a bad omen. As they all went to their sheds and retrieved their tools, they couldn’t help but notice things were… missing. A sheep here, a pitchfork there, that they could’ve sworn just yesterday was present.
But then they found it…
Blood hung on the grass like dew, hides lay in torn fragments about the small meadow, and there, in the centre of the mess, was the fly-ridden carcass of Deverin, Farmer Dale’s prize-winning bull. The very same beast that, when a worg came down from the Fangwood, had defeated it and saved the cattle, now lay with it’s ribs cracked and broken, it’s eye’s pulled from it’s sockets, and the center of the carnage, the blow that had struck the beast straight through it’s heart, stood a long, black fang.”
“Immediately a search was set out for heroes. A group of adventurers strong and daring enough to find this beast. A reward of 1000 gold pieces was offered for it’s other fang, and immediately the guard of the town set watches.”
“In the days following, guardsmen began to go missing. Sometimes they’d just go out for a whizz, other times they’d doze off, but each morning, they’d find one. Puncture wounds in their mail, green ooze frothing from their wound.”
“For four days this occurred, until on the fifth day, four individuals rose to the challenge of finding this “Black Fang.”
The first, a half-elven ranger, with an odd gift for the arcane. He wore a Raven across his back, and had the look of a man with a checkered past.
The second, A Half-Orc Druid, wise in the ways of nature, and built like an oaken stump.
The third, a crooked young rogue, who was probably in it for the money more than the satisfaction of a good deed.
And finally, a stout, handsome, strong-willed Dwarf, who could carry a tower shield like a tin pan, and a warhammer like a twig.
And so the four set off to slay Black Fang."
“They encountered every manner of beast, foe, and trap. Leapt across flames, drank from fountains of gold, and finally, they entered a dark cave. cobwebs lined it’s walls, and the remnants of cattle and man alike were caught in their sticky trap. And there, in the midst of the webs stood a spider, taller than a man, with ten glaring red eyes. In it’s mouth sat a single, black, fang.”
“It leapt toward them, sinking it’s remaining mandible deep into the rogue’s chest, and grappling him with all four legs. Poison began to spew from the wound, and the party feared the worst. The ranger shot an arrow, which true to it’s mark, landed straight in the spider’s eye.
Disoriented, it fell to the ground, where the druid summoned entangling roots to bind it’s limbs.
With a thundering roar, the Dwarf brought down his hammer to the spider’s skull, and with a screech the arachnid’s brains spattered about the rough stone floor.”
“And standing before you today is that very fighter.” He proclaims. He takes a bow and applause arises from the audience. “It is rumoured today that treasure and monsters alike still dwell in the cave of Black Fang! An’ if you don’t believe me story, just go ask farmer Truscan!”
With that, he thanks the bartender, and leaves.

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Into The Fangwood
The southern Fangwood has been experiencing some odd occurences lately...

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As Brit’ta entertains thoughts of adventure as she walks down a gravel path, and as Hassimi and Glif lie in a cart that bumps and shudders as it is dragged along the dirt path, all of you cannot help but notice the eerie silence that blankets the night. Even those of you unfamiliar with the Fangwood could imagine that, by this time of spring, all sorts of animals should be able to be heard. The rustle of raccoons and rabbits, the fluttering of birds, the buzzing of insects, all elements you notice are lacking from tonight.
Yet, just as you all cannot shake the feeling of something wrong, neither can you shake the feeling of destiny. This is the calm before the storm, a storm that each one of you, regardless of your backgrounds, know will take you to an entirely different shore.
Brit’ta sees lights in the distance, and just as she begins to shiver from the chill of the night, an inn comes in to view. The name “The Leaky Flagon” can be read on the sign above the door.
Glif and Hassimi feel their caravan come to a stop, and they hop out to be greeted by the same image of a foaming mug.
Just as you all go for the door, you hear a taunt from the darkness, and two figures emerge, demanding your coinpurses, or your lives.

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