Tonight I want to put a bit of inspiration out there whether its the beginning of an adventure or the plot of a one shot time will tell. Traditionally D&D adventures start in a tavern, or an Inn but what about a Trading Post – someplace that’s not soo different to the norm. So let me know if you believe that it would be a good start to a campaign, all campaigns (instead of the traditional “you meet at an inn” or the theme of a one shot adventure.
So sit back, have a mug, or bucket, of coffee and enjoy.
Brazen’s Trading Post
As the last of the walls came up and boxed in the frame he stood there as his faithful animal companion honked next to him. Reaching out he scratched the ears of the oddity and looked to the cart it carried which held several lengths of timber for the beams of the roof.
“Well old girl, its the end of an era. We wont be going on many adventures any more but we can at least help those that still have that drive.” He said as he grabbed a large fibrous bag of kibble for the creature. The creature honked, a weird grunting honk, in thanks as it chewed down into the food whilst he began to move the beams off the cart. His arms flexed as they braced for the weight, the solid redwood beams still felt heavy despite the enchanted gear he was wearing.
Lifting the beams up onto the next level of scaffolding was slow work, getting up the three levels of the new building wasn’t the hardest part though. Squeezing the large materials for the building between his new building and the two neighbouring established houses was. Duck honked a warning just in time for him to catch the beam before it crashed through the wall of his new neighbours. “Thanks Duck” he called down who dug her head back into the bag, at least he thought she was a she.
As the sun began to set he leant against the large quadruped and looked up at the frame for his new building – a trading post. A place where he could provide experience, wears and services to the new and experienced adventurers. Like he once was. Looking a the scars, scratches and patches of missing fur he remembered the final battle he had taken Duck into, the large reptilian form snaking its way around the pillars. The sheer volume of fangs was daunting enough but the panicked honks increased from Duck as he stood and loosed volley upon volley at the creature. In the end Duck had saved him.
Throwing herself at the creature as he sustained a tail swipe that broke his arm and shattered several ribs. Healing potions kept him alive is what the other adventurers said but he knew differently. The weird creature that he had raised as a chick from a egg is the reason. She is the reason why he gave up adventuring to build this place. A place where his experience, items and knowledge could help those who would befall similar fates to him.
A trading post of not just goods and services but knowledge. Something more valuable than enchanted swords, crossbows or armour. Something that holds the only the truly strong manage to obtain.
Walking down the street with duck walking beside him pulling the empty cart he looked back at their dream. The frame was there, good and strong and tomorrow the roof goes on, then the walls. He glanced to the one finished room he had on the block of land – a stable for Duck where she could be safe and warm. He owed her more than that but she didn’t seem to care – she was just happy to be nearby.