<div class="floatleft">(https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/005/196/747/large/marcel-hansen-highresscreenshot00006.jpg?1489222731)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>By happenstance or fate, the path of three individuals seeking their own quests and glory converged upon a singular small town that dwelled in the shadow of the <strong>Spine of the World</strong>. Ramshackle, in varying states of disrepair and seemingly forever being rebuilt. <strong>Sydanoi</strong> was forever harassed by marauding monsters that trekked out from the Spine of the World, and the town had fallen several times over the course of just a short few decades. Each time, it's people would flee when the battle had been lose, only to reclaim the land they believed to be rightfully theirs. It's warriors and people were a sturdy and grim lot, determined to keep their land and led by a fearsome soldier who was pragmatic above all. He cared for his people, his family, but <strong>Dane Findol</strong>, Mayor and Knight of Sydanoi would allow no threat to his home to live, from outside or within. <br/><br/>Because it had been warred over for decades, the buildings were an odd mismatch of architectural styles, building materials and construction ages. At the very foundation of it all, were sun-bleached stones, ancient with carvings in each of them. These old stone constructions extended below the ground level in to cellars, underground pathways and chambers left unused, drowned in shadow and dust. <br/><br/>The nature of their repeated quarry left the people wary towards any folk that they could not immediately recognize, or know was trusted. Humans were welcome, as were Elf, Dwarf and Halfling kin, but those kind rarely settled in Sydanoi, and anything else were eyed with suspicion and distrust.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>The nights of Sydanoi were tense affairs. The town lacked walls, due to them being torn down again and again and again, and was instead surrounded by wooden barricades and stakes. From the center of the town, a stone guard tower stood as Dane Findol's home, house of office and watch tower. Each night, he stood watching from the round, buttressed top of it to overlook the town. A worn brass bell and hammer waited with him on a simple wooden stool.<br/></td></tr></tbody></table>