This is an example back story for the D&D 5e campaign, Slaves of Troustar.
You in the World
The claws of Bane dig deep inside your skull at the excess of the previous night’s debauchery hurtle back painfully into your mind. This can’t go on – do a job, drink, fight, maybe some love. Your antics are making you enemies. It’s time to leave. You have had enough of the nursing of merchants on their regular journeys to the remote villages on the frosted edges of the north. You want to see more than this frigid place.
You still have that poster somewhere; the one offering fortunes and adventure for the young and willing. You fumble around for if before finding it inside your hip pocket. You notice fresh blood on the page where your thumb has brushed it. You reach up to your face and wince at the new cut above your eye from last night’s brawl. Through bleary eyes, you look again at the poster. It’s the right time. It’s the right choice.
You grab your weapons, pack and meager belongings and head south from the city of Bromduhlis to the cultural hotbed of Ac Rumb. With the Bellofaster Sea to your right and the Brofous Range to your left you make your first step on the Great Northern Road.
What has your life given you? What secrets do you hold? Why did you decide to take this journey?
Ac Rumb
The northern people are strongly independent and equally fickle in their relationship with the south making it the most disruptive portion of the Vesluvian Empire. However, since the rule of the Patrician of Vesluvia, Lord Vecevious, an odd quiet has fallen across the northern lands. Instead of the regular clan conflicts that plagued the rule of the Mad King Jelofar and his father before him, now clans have regular games featuring feats of strength, cunning, skill and, of course, violence (at least this time, a little more controlled).
Your Story Begins
You have come far from the north, passing the port city of Caraster along the way, but now you approach the northern gate of Ac Rumb. There are many fur covered peoples of your homeland here though they are but a drop in the sea compared to the sheer mix of humans, elf, dwarves, gnomes and more. What crosses your mind is how puny, weak and girly the city men look here compared to the hard men and women of Bromduhlis. Such strange people.
As you pass under the yellow-stone northern gate, you enter a great bazaar. Produce of every variety cover tables and the smell of roasting meat reaches your nostrils and responds to your empty stomach.
Perhaps a hearty breakfast and then off to find the Butcher’s Arm, you think.
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