- [Create a free account] to gain access to the Ventrilo log-in information, the ability to register for events, links to the software that may be needed to play games and to be able to post on the forums
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- Earn your first awards for signing up and another for playing in your first game
You stumble through the winter storm, sleet and snow blowing across your limited vision. Your fur lined survival gear barely resists the bite of the icy cold beast. You ponder, "Where is that blasted tavern? I know it's nearby!" A strong gust of wind blows your hooded cowl off of your head, allowing the ice and snow to quickly soak your head and drip a frozen finger down your back. Could this day get any worse?
But before you can react and thrust your hood back upon your head, your now exposed ears pick up the ever-so-feint sound of music and the low murmur of people talking. Was the gust of wind a blessing sent by the gods? You might have missed this and blundered out into the deep snow. Deciding today may not be so bad after all, you turn toward the soft sounds and let your hearing guide you instead.
Within minutes you are standing inside the door to the Dragon's Tear Tavern, a tavern renowned for it's good food, quality drink and great entertainment. The heat of the multiple fireplaces assaults your numb extremities and the sounds of the music fill your ears like a wine goblet. Sartag Stone-eye, the proprietor of the Dragon's Tear, notices you by the door and says, "Come in friend, grab a table and warm yourself by the fires while I have a barmaid fetch you a warm mulled-spiced wine and some fine hot beef and potato stew. You look cold, tired and hungry!"
Nodding, you find a bench where you can keep your back to the wall and your eyes on the patrons. You notice a Bard on stage playing his lute and telling a story of Sir Drakemount and his quest to rescue a damsel in distress, but he's telling it all wrong. You know this, because you were riding alongside Sir Drakemount on that fated day. The Bard's story ends with a happily ever after, the real story did not. Death does not fill seats in a tavern, but today death is sitting in a tavern.... cold, tired and hungry.