Tales of Aldermere

Welcome, adventurer! You stand at the threshold of infinite possibilities.

What kind of world shall we explore today? A medieval kingdom? Futuristic metropolis? Mystical realm?

Or perhaps you'd like to tell me where you wish to go first?

You approach the gates of Aldermere, a bustling medieval kingdom surrounded by stone walls. Guards eye you cautiously. The marketplace hums with activity beyond the gate.

Where would you like to go in Aldermere?

You push open the heavy door of “The Gilded Stag.” The tavern buzzes with conversation and laughter. A bard plays in the corner, while a burly bartender serves ales. Locals eye you curiously.

What do you do?

You approach the bar. The barkeeper, a broad-shouldered man with a thick beard and scarred hands, wipes a mug clean. He nods at you. “New face in Aldermere, eh? What'll it be, traveler?”

You approach the barkeeper, a stout man with a thick beard.

“Aye, newcomer? A pint of ale it is!” He fills a wooden tankard with amber liquid, foam spilling over the rim. “That'll be two copper coins.”

The barkeeper's bushy eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Es-presso? Never heard of such a drink, friend. We've got ale, mead, wine, and a strong spirit the miners fancy. But nothing by that name.”

He slides a frothy pint toward you. “That'll be two copper coins.”

The barkeeper frowns, scratching his beard. “Esp-what? Never heard of such a drink.” He chuckles. “As for duck, the hunter brought some this morning. Not fancy 'confit' whatever that is, but Cook can roast you a fine leg with herbs if you're hungry.”

“Five copper total for the ale and duck,” the barkeeper nods. “Find yourself a seat. Won't be long.”

Soon, he brings you a steaming duck leg on a wooden plate, seasoned with herbs. The ale tastes earthy and refreshing.

You tear into the duck leg. The skin crackles perfectly, meat tender and juicy beneath. Herbs and salt enhance the rich flavor. Several patrons glance your way as you eat heartily.

What next?

You observe the onlookers. A grizzled miner with coal-stained hands. Two farmers whispering. A hooded figure in the corner watching intently. A red-faced merchant. They quickly avert their gaze when you meet their eyes.

You slide over to the merchant's table. He's portly, dressed in fine but travel-worn clothes. A ring glints on each finger. He shifts nervously as you approach.

“Good evening, traveler. Torbin's my name. Something I can help you with?”

Torbin's face brightens. “Ah! A fellow appreciator of fine things!” He splays his fingers.

“This sapphire from Eastport traders. This gold band? Payment from a baron. The silver one with runes brings luck on journeys.” He leans closer. “Each tells a story of my travels.”

Torbin glances around, then holds up the sapphire ring. “From the Isles of Azure, this one. Sailed there after rumors of blue gems larger than eggs. Nearly lost my ship to serpents! Found this beauty in a hidden cove market, traded for spices and northern furs.”

Torbin lowers his voice. “The Azure folk, blue-skinned and gilled! They trade only with trusted outsiders. I spent three seasons earning their trust. This ring? Worth ten times what I paid, but…” He leans closer. “Some say it carries their water magic.”