1491 DR, Neverwinter, Sword Coast, Faerûn
The year is 1491. Neverwinter, also known as the City of Skilled Hands and Jewel of the North, is a multi-racial city-state sitting on the northwestern Sword Coast of Faerûn. The city is regarded as the most cosmopolitan and the most civilized city in all of Faerûn.
Neverwinter became a center of civilization, peace and culture and was widely viewed as a marvel by visitors. This trend lasted, seemingly unbroken since its founding until 1372 DR when a disease known as the Wailing Death laid low most of the city's inhabitants. Then, in 1385 DR, the Spellplague struck. In 1451 DR, a powerful eruption of Mount Hotenow laid the city to waste and killed the ruling royal family.
Fourty years later, Neverwinter is rising from the ashes. Lord Neverember’s efforts to restore Neverwinter’s glory are paying off, and the city is slowly being reestablished as a center of civilization in the Sword Coast North. Neverwinter is a city full of opportunities, and as word spreads, merchants from both the North and the southern lands are becoming interested in trading with the city once again. The population count is rising in response.
Individuals of all races, backgrounds, and faiths have begun to gather in Neverwinter. Some open shops, some encourage trade, some hide in the shadows and take what they want, and some are hired hands available to hunt monsters.
Without guilds to restrict trade or construction, those who wanted to start a business in Neverwinter could simply do so, and those traders who dealt with basic products, such as foodstuff, became wealthy just by selling their goods in the city. Likewise, there was demand for many jobs, and those who wanted to offer their services either as workers or as apprentices had plenty of options despite the high competition.
Yesterday before dawn, three notices were posted across Neverwinter; one in the Protector’s enclave, another by the city gates, and the third in the docks, each asking for adventurers to perform a simple task – provide escort for a wagon, of supplies of no great value, a few days’ journey outside the city. The notices listed the Driftwood Tavern, located on Coriol Street, near the city gate, as the location to inquire about the job and asking for Gundren Rockseeker.
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This morning, the climate is temperate, there is a pleasant hum of activity in the streets, and the smells of delicious meats being prepared for the noontime meal hang in the air.
The usual prospect a new month generally brings is on everyone’s mind in the Driftwood Tavern, one of city's taverns. While the Moonstone Mask might be the most decadent and famous tavern in the Protector's Enclave, the Driftwood Tavern's ale casks are much larger and the pours are more generous.
As a trickle of patrons enter and leave the perpetually warm, generally inviting building, they acknowledge Tess, the barkeep’s, smile with her greeting or farewell. Tess is a young, red-headed human woman dressed in green and yellow today, her long hair tied back into a ponytail.
Standing behind the bar is the tavern's proprietor, Madame Rosene. Rosene is a middle-aged human woman with short graying hair dressed in brown and green. As she keeps an ever watchful eye over the patrons, she stands talking to a trio of men sitting at the bar counter.
Three other patrons sit at the bar. One human male complains about his life and the other two, an half-elf woman and a human male, are city watch sergeants. Madam Rosene smiles and continues her conversations with them as she refills their mugs as she brings them bowls of stone soup and a baguette.
Throughout the room, a handful of tables are empty and a few others have a patron or two sitting and drinking.
