[center][h1]On the Eve of Adventure[/h1] [img]https://i.ibb.co/25v5NtF/fest.png[/img] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E_r6MjX_wrI]The mines of Thrillem tremble with the voices of a thousand dwarves...[/url] [i][h3]HEIGH! HO! HEIGH! HO! HEEEIGH! HOOO! HEEEIGH! HOOO! HEEE-[/h3] -igh! Du-ba-du-ba-dum, Ho! Du-ba-du-ba-dum Heigh! Du-ba-dum Ho! Du-ba-dum Heigh! Du-ba-du-ba-Ho! This is the night, brethren, the eve of adventure! Heigh! Of adventure! Ho! This is the night! The eve of adventure! Heigh! Du-ba-du-ba-dum, Ho! Du-ba-du-ba-dum Heigh! Du-ba-Ho! Du-ba-Heigh! Du-ba-du-ba-Ho! Forward you go, brethren, to claim stolen treasure! Heigh! Stolen treasure! Ho! Forward you go! To claim stolen treasure! Aye, you feel it in your Bone, Pride, and longing, for your Home, Strength and honor, kin of Stone![/i][/center] [hr] The night is young, but you can barely stand. There's a feast in Thrillem tonight and the dwarves mean business. Not just any feast, no. [i]Your[/i] feast. You're being celebrated as heroes for undertaking the Great Quest. You're going to the surface, to travel untold miles through uncharted lands, to slay a dragon and steal its hoard. A dragon. And you're going to slay it. You've already said it what feels like a hundred times, and heard others say it more than a thousand, but that somehow still can't seem dispel that gnawing in your gut. The one that's there to remind you that Hey, guess what! The dragon ain't dead yet! And tonight might be The Night, but tomorrow is certainly The Day. The day when it begins for real, this adventure of yours... But leave the worrying for the greybeards! You're still young, and tonight is for you! There's a feast going on, and what a feast it is! Delicious delicacies and beverages by the barrel from all across the land, booming drums and roaring brass, thousands upon thousands of torches and candles and all eyes and all smiles upon you, no expense is spared. You're sitting with the rest of your comrades at the table of honor in the middle of the great hall. You're surrounded on all sides by throngs of your brethren, sitting at tables of their own. On the dais at the head of the hall sits the greybeards, the elders of each clan, looking down on their people with watchful eyes. They're counting on you, and you mean to honor that trust. Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted as Beorthric barges into the table with two fists full of pints. "Refreshments!" he bellows as he smashes them down on the top, and proceeds to lean in towards you with a funny frown on his face. "And good thing, too" he says, nodding over to a neighboring table "'cause them Orebreakers over yonder was bad-mouthing the lot of us, saying they'd stomp us no sweat in arm wrestling, and I figured we'd need a drop 'o strength seeing as we're going to take 'em up on that challenge! Who's with me?"