The Search for Santinal

If it were not for its sprawling mass it would be easy to describe Khagash as a border town. It was a place that had been built out of necessity, a pit stop for weary travellers making their way from one kingdom to another through the perilous swampland of Bellanth. The ramshackle nature of the original town had long since past but it was easy to see its fingerprints in the city itself, the haphazard and unintuitive layout of the streets ensured that the city itself was more confusing and easier to get lost in than the bogs that surrounded it. Being upon the fringe of society had its benefits, the cultural taboos that had pitted some species against one another as enemies seemed to mean less out here where working together to survive was integral to survival. However being so far from what was recognised as society tended to attract a not unreasonable number of what you might describe as undesirables and crime was commonplace.

On a particularly muggy evening a group of individuals with one goal in common were drawn, whether by fate or by chance, or by the timely acquisition of a leaflet written by a desperate elven mage, to a small Khagashian tavern known as the Troll’s Head; a place where the drinks were strong and the gossip was cheap.