<div align="center">(https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/001/092/624/large/klaus-pillon-netease-test-final-klauspillon.jpg?1443927777)</div><br/>The six of you have been travelling north along with a merchant caravan headed by Tenber Halfaxe, a peg-legged dwarf of little character but much gold. despite the rumors that led to Tenber hiring you, there have been no goblin attacks on the four wagons - much to the dwarf's recent griping. In fact it's been downright dull, maybe even a little frustrating. You've all spent more time helping fix broken spokes, calming horses spooked by squirrels darting on front of them, and other such mundane, un-adventuresome activities. (Thankfully no one has died of dysentery.)<br/><br/>Oakhurst is a small farming community, sitting mostly on reclaimed land from the Troawth Sump, a marshy lowland leading to the nearby Jademere Lake, east of the Old Road. To the west is the Thornwood, a dense forest named for the copious number of locust trees found within. Oakhurst is the only outpost of civilization on this part of the trade route, a fact that has made the town more prosperous than you might think. Even so, the walls around the town are low and ill-repaired, and many of the buildings have thatch that look like it might give if a particularly large bird should perch upon it.<br/><br/>It's a fairly miserable day when you arrive; the sky is gray and there's enough of a drizzle to make things cold and uncomfortable, but not enough that it washes out the odor of the mud under the wagon wheels. "At least it's keeping the mosquitos away!" noted one of the other drivers, even as his whip flicked a horsefly off the rump of an ass.<br/><br/>As your caravan slowly rolls through the town's main gate, a trio of men approach. Two of them are local militia from the look of them - brimmed metal helms, simple pikes, and leather cuirasses over everyday clothes. The third is dressed in white might pass as finery in a place like Oakhurst, in a well-stitched cotton doublet and high boosts. He seems in unusual good cheer, given the weather.<strong> "Good afternoon, travelers... ah! Mr. Halfaxe, I was not expecting you so early in the season!"</strong><br/><br/><strong>"Afternoon, Mayor,"</strong>the dwarf returned, baring his teeth in what a hopeful person might conclude was a smile. He looked back, signalling the other wagons to settle themselves.<strong>"You lot might as well make yourselfs comfortable. Good Mayor Lardbum- "</strong><em>Lumbard</em>, corrects the mayor indignantly, though Tenber seems to not notice,<strong>"Looks like he wants to do business. Usually takes a while."</strong><br/><br/>Well, as it so happens one of the buildings nearby - the sign says "The Old Boar" - seems to have some delightful fragrances coming out of it. The rest of the town seems to be doing its normal business, a couple of old ladies sharing gossip over the barrel of pickles on the general store's covered porch while one of their husbands whittles. More distant you can sound the sounds of a smith at work, and the streets are doitted with men and women looking for somewhere drier than here.