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August 5th, a sunny Friday,
You awake just after dawn to the comforting smell of curing tobacco and a whiff of wood smoke from the pot stove. Emmet must be making tea. The light of the rising sun glances through cracks between the slats in the barn wall and dust motes dance in the rays. Outside, you can faintly hear Aldo Grinnel signing some sort of folksong, probably while he putters in his garden. Perhaps your adventuring writ will arrive today and you can get off your collective asses and get to the riches and glory part of this benighted trip. Mostly your days in the past fortnight have consisted of checking the notice board outside of the Chancery office in the town square, checking in with the Chancery office about your Writ, and, maybe, trying to grub up some piece work so that you don't go broke while you're sitting around waiting. Beyond that you've met some people, nice and otherwise (mostly otherwise) and learned a few things about what makes Cobblefell tick.
What do you do?
You awake just after dawn to the comforting smell of curing tobacco and a whiff of wood smoke from the pot stove. Emmet must be making tea. The light of the rising sun glances through cracks between the slats in the barn wall and dust motes dance in the rays. Outside, you can faintly hear Aldo Grinnel signing some sort of folksong, probably while he putters in his garden. Perhaps your adventuring writ will arrive today and you can get off your collective asses and get to the riches and glory part of this benighted trip. Mostly your days in the past fortnight have consisted of checking the notice board outside of the Chancery office in the town square, checking in with the Chancery office about your Writ, and, maybe, trying to grub up some piece work so that you don't go broke while you're sitting around waiting. Beyond that you've met some people, nice and otherwise (mostly otherwise) and learned a few things about what makes Cobblefell tick.
What do you do?