"Greetings, traveller," says the old man sitting at the bar as you enter the tavern. He looks worn, and battle-weary - like a man who's seen a lifetime worth of adventure and fighting. "Have a seat," he says with a grin, pointing at the empty stool next to him. As you sit down and order your ale, the man begins to talk about the things he's seen and the places he's been. You're regailed by tales of giant lizard-men wielding swords, and hordes of undead swarming the very city in which you now find yourself. The way he tells it, it's nearly a daily occurrance to see robbers, demons and evil sorcerers invading the city. You laugh at the old man, as his mind is obviously failing from age. He frowns at you, "What's so funny?" You manage to stop your chuckling long enough to spit out "I mean no offence, sir, but no town could possibly endure the kinds of punishment of which you speak." The old man smiles at you, and takes another sip of his ale. "Perhaps. But perhaps we're not just any town, friend." You cock an eyebrow at the senile old coot. He nods toward one of the patrons in the tavern, a tall, heavily-muscled warrior with battle-scarred armor and a flowing red cape. "We're the only land in the world that's still protected by the Seyan'Du." You're taken aback for a moment. "Surely you jest!" you scoff, taking a gulp of ale. The old man shakes his head. "I'm quite serious. You've not seen a true battle until you've witnessed the power of the Seyan'Du." You shake your head this time, "I can't listen to anymore tall tales this evening, friend." The old man shrugs his shoulders. Just as you turn to leave the Inn, you notice a dark red cloud descending over Aranock, and a group of tall, red-winged demons appear as if from thin air right in the middle of the streets. "Gargoyles!" shouts one of the Inn patrons, drawing his sword and running out the door. "My friend," says the old man as the tall warrior in the red cape produces an enormous two-handed sword and strides out of the Inn. "I think you just might get your chance to see it." You watch in awe as the different races of the village come together, all swinging swords and shimmering magic. As you stand in stunned silence at the spectacle in the streets, the old man grins and claps you on the shoulder. "Welcome to Aranock."

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