Tales of the Nentir Vale & Beyond
The sun is blinding, he feels confused, briefly adrenaline runs through his body and he feels as though he was just in the midst of a fierce battle. “Where am I?” No answer. His eyes begin adjusting to the light and he can make out his surroundings. He’s in a small clearing, a meadow surrounded by forest. Partially buried in the dirt beside him lay the bones of a great beast. “A dragon.” He whispers, running his hands across the dirty bones.
This place must have been the site of a great struggle. The clearing is covered old trees some burnt, some cleaved in half. A word is carved in the bone at his feet, Aedan. Searching around the clearing he finds remains of some humanoid creatures and some of their gear, the gods have favored him. Taking what suits (and fits) him, a staff, a dirty suit of hide armor and a few other odds and ends he sets out. A vague memory compelling him to head east, towards a town called Fallcrest.