Adele Stormcrow watched the entire village scurry about their daily activities from her rooftop perch, if only it wasn't her day for watch. She glanced around the small logging town of Cyphers Falls, noting the influx of lumber merchants and farmers that were typical this time of year. A cool autumn breeze rippled her patchwork cloak, winter would be here soon and tonight was the harvest festival, the one night Adele looked forward to, not only would their be dancing, music, but there would be plenty of pockets to pick. The young woman grew up on the streets of Rhundabard, without the aid of friends or family, she took to thieving to survive and she was good at it, almost too good in her mind. She had come to Cyphers Falls five years ago on the whisper of some ancient treasure hidden in the nearby cave, unfortunately it turned out to be a trap set by some other thieves, Adele lay bleeding on the ground and was near death. Fortune seemed to smile upon her though, the village elder a man named Maesma and the leader of the local militia a half-orc named Vakan happened to find her there and the elder nursed her back to health.
Since then Adele grew into a exceptional young woman, working with the town militia as a scout and explorer as a way to repay the debt she owed the men who saved her life. The wind was starting to pick up, whipping her dark brown hair around her face, through strands of hair she caught a glimpse of Vakan walking with a young woman Ilyndriel, a cleric of Balder, the keeper of the shrine to the murdered son of Odin. The ex-thief didn't worship the gods, to her they were just mythical beings or just plain outlandish, after all what did the gods do for her when she was alone on those cold nights. She shook off those old memories as she noticed Maesma was ascending the stairs to a makeshift wooden stage built for the festival, that could only mean one thing, the festival was about to begin.
Maesma causually strolled up to the dais, the old druid ready to address the crowd of locals and travelers alike. His long silver hair rippled behind him as a breeze caught hold of it, "This winter is to early" he thought to himself. The crowd looked on as their leader stood ready for his declaration that the festival was underway "Friends of old and those new to our village, welcome to the annual harvest festival, it is a great honor that many of you have journeyed here to trade goods and help us prepare for winter. I must also press upon the other historical relevance of the day it has been 100 years to the day since the ancient hero Skjor returned home to be entombed in the barrow of D'bitu. We mourn his loss and honor his memory as well as give praise to the gods for another successful harvest. Now as leader of Cyphers Falls I declare this festival officially underway!"
The crowd erupted with a thunderous applause as the local musicians took up their instruments and began to play. Maesma descended the stage and felt a odd chill work its way down his spine as a familiar voice echoed in his head "They come brother."