[h1]Just Another Day In Fireside...[/h1]

Ah, Fireside. The little town on the cliff side. This, my friends, is where our story begins. Well, technically, it doesn't, but really, you've all heard the tales of the heroes Vito, Wilhelm, and their successors Ken and Mik. But, the thought of the treasure that the four had sought has been on the minds of everyone, as no one has ever claimed it. Nobody even knows if it exists, save the bold adventurers who claim it to be. 

But none of that is important for the moment, as the new day breaks and the marketplace springs to life, the usual hustle and bustle of the town sweeping the dreariness of the shoppers away as they buy their daily necessities. But, today...there is a stranger merchant amongst the crowd. A man shrouded in a cloak that'd probably look better wrapping a bunch of potatoes together. His face was shrouded completely from view under his hood, save for the pale glowing blue eyes that seemed devoid of any pupil or scilera, just one large blue iris. Shouting and holding up a map that seems to be held together only by duct tape, the man waves it about as if he were a preacher.

[b]"YES IT IS INDEED I SWEAR! THE GENUINE TREASURE OF HEROES, THE HORDE OF CHAMPIONS, THE...THE THING OF THINGS! THE MAP OF THE GREAT HEROES KEN AND MIK! ONE OF A KIND AND KIND OF A ONE FOLKS! FOR TODAY ONLY AND FOREVER, I'LL PART WITH THE MAP TO THE HIGHEST BIDDER! WILDEST RICHES, GLORIOUS TREASURE! COME, COME, THERE'S MORE TO THIS MAP THAN MEETS THE EYE!" he projects, loud enough to be heard all throughout the marketplace.

[h2]Rook the Farmer[/h2]

Struggling to carry the heavy load of his meager crop in the wheelbarrel behind him, Rook walked with his trusty farming plow in his hands, eager to sell his goods and get back to plowing for the next harvest. By hand. Not the richest little guy in the village by a long shot, he sweated and groaned as he pulled his cart to his ring-ding stall and simply watched the strange man from afar, daydreaming of what glory the map could lead to. If only he wasn't so poor...and spineless...and afraid of spiders. He was pretty sure a passing adventurer mentioned spiders as big as an anvil to him. The thought of that sent a shiver up his spine, and drove him to fearfully remove his hat, patting it down and looking inside it. 

[b]"Safe."[/b] he said to himself contently, donning his cap again and threading his fingers together, waiting for anybody to buy his local produce.