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The lights go down in the darkening theatre, and ominous theme music gradually grows as upon the gigantic state-of-the-art screen a series of large yellow letters loom large before the eyes of the PCs, scrolling away into the depths of a yawning void:
 
The lights go down in the darkening theatre, and ominous theme music gradually grows as upon the gigantic state-of-the-art screen a series of large yellow letters loom large before the eyes of the PCs, scrolling away into the depths of a yawning void:
  
''The world has never been a safe place.  Bastions of civilization populate a dark, menacing world—islands of order and reason exist in a land otherwise overrun by dark cults, vile monsters, creatures from the dark edges of the imagination, and worse.  As deadly as the world is on a normal day, it has been rumored that something has begun to stir on the fringes of the civilized Elsir Vale.  Formerly the site of an attack by an army of ravening goblinkind known as the Red Hand, the Vale has known several years of peace since brave adventurers, leading dwellers of the Vale lands, stormed into the teeth of the approaching Hand and, after a bitter series of battles and no small amount of bloodshed on both sides, sent them scurrying back into the darkness.  But the ten years’ peace of Elsir Vale—and specifically, the town of Brindol, heart of the former conflict with the Red Hand—has been shattered.  The vague shadow of unease the locals have been experiencing lately has crystallized in the form of a recent attack on the town itself.  Now Brindol finds itself once more in need of capable and brave heroes (or simply capable opportunists) willing to come to the aid of their citizens.  The town council is willing to pay handsomely for adventurers with the stones to rescue the prisoners and recover the antique treasures taken from the Hall of Great Valor . . . adventurers like those at your table, here in the Antler and Thistle tavern.''
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The world has never been a safe place.  Bastions of civilization populate a dark, menacing world—islands of order and reason exist in a land otherwise overrun by dark cults, vile monsters, creatures from the dark edges of the imagination, and worse.  As deadly as the world is on a normal day, it has been rumored that something has begun to stir on the fringes of the civilized Elsir Vale.  Formerly the site of an attack by an army of ravening goblinkind known as the Red Hand, the Vale has known several years of peace since brave adventurers, leading dwellers of the Vale lands, stormed into the teeth of the approaching Hand and, after a bitter series of battles and no small amount of bloodshed on both sides, sent them scurrying back into the darkness.  But the ten years’ peace of Elsir Vale—and specifically, the town of Brindol, heart of the former conflict with the Red Hand—has been shattered.  The vague shadow of unease the locals have been experiencing lately has crystallized in the form of a recent attack on the town itself.  Now Brindol finds itself once more in need of capable and brave heroes (or simply capable opportunists) willing to come to the aid of their citizens.  The town council is willing to pay handsomely for adventurers with the stones to rescue the prisoners and recover the antique treasures taken from the Hall of Great Valor . . . adventurers like those at your table, here in the Antler and Thistle tavern.
  
 
So begins the tipping of the Scales of War...
 
So begins the tipping of the Scales of War...

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