Feigning interest you begin reading the newspaper on your desk:
SHARN INQUISITIVE News for Far, Zarantyr 6th, 998
Your eyes gloss over the top story title:
Tower Collapse Was Sabotage, Watch Says
It’s been a slow news year since the Treaty Of Thronehold and the end of the Great War. Then again anything would be considered trivial to those cataclysmic events. The continent of Khorvaire was ravaged by the hundred year war, but nobody expected that ending. The most prominent nation, Cyre, the jewel of Galifar was destroyed in the blink of an eye. All that remained was an endless cursed wasteland. Millions dead… or worse.
Over a thousand miles away still stands Sharn, the biggest city of the nation of Breland, the biggest city in all the world. Built in a manifest zone linked to the plane of Syrania, the Azure Sky, Sharn is a massive fantasy metropolis. It is a maze of towers that reach hundreds upon hundreds of feet into the air, with people, skycoaches, gargoyles and all manner of things milling about. Sometimes it feels like the safest place on this earth. Sometimes the most dangerous.
Regardless, this is where the offices of the Free Mercenary Company “Baker’s Dozen” are situated, and where you spend most of your day of late. Lead by Binween Dinoso, a grisled old Bard and war veteran, it has fallen on hard times with debt pilling up. It’s not cheap to rent an office in Cliffport, the adventurer’s quarter of Sharn’s Upper Dura, old-town. With things calming down, there is less “honest” work and most of it goes to House Medani and House Deneith official Mercenary Guilds compounding the problem. Hence the inaction you observe as you glance around this side of the room. You spot a colleague balancing his chair on its hind legs as he rests his short dwarf feet on the coffee-table. Three more are sitting on the large main table, playing a game of cards, no money involved, arguing mildly over Lady Luck’s “favoritism”. As you lazily begin to scan the other side of the room before returning to your reading material, you hear a rush of footsteps outside the door, which culminates all too fast into the ashen plank flying off its hinges and splintering. A burly half-orc bursts through, wearing a barbaric studded leather armor and a great axe slung across his back. Surprised, you don’t have time to smirk over the dwarf panicking and falling over backwards on his chair, his stubby arms flail helplessly in the air as his head comes crashing down. The half-orc roars in a “hulk smash” stance that you learned to interpret as excitement mixed with happiness in your short acquaintance with Ygor.
“We gots woark ta do! Finally!”, he exclaims.
“Damn you Ygor, now I have to fix that door again… like last week!”, complains the dwarf rubbing his sore head.
Well at least now you can afford to… maybe. You help raise Ligamy, the dwarf smith, to his feet and assure him of better times to come while you question Ygor for more info. It turns out House Cannith, the Artificer’s guild, require a team of the adventurous sort to complete a mission they’d rather not involve other Houses into. And you’re it!
Binween signed the contract already so it’s a done deal, though there’s some talk of individual non-disclosure agreements to be signed by participants, which the A-Team has already signed. But the mission will probably require the entire resources of the “Baker’s Dozen” so you’re all likely to be involved too, perhaps pending some interviews and whatnot. Things are looking up. Time to gather your friends and allies and return to action. Some real action! Not chasing muggers in the Lightning Rail Station or down Tower Elevators and stairs into the Cogs.
a sample page of Sharn Inquisitive Newspaper.
the Tower Collapse article
Eberron (click more links as you like)
Old Campaign Lore