Welcome to Cove

The town of Cove is only just awakening; traders arriving early to get a foothold on the best plots for their stalls, adventurers seeking to set off early to a dungeon...


...ships settling into the port, visitors departing the boats and dockers loading on crates and barrels of goods...


...all of them oblivious to the events taking place at this very moment that would shake the very foundations of their fair town.


With the fuse lit, the stranger had approximately thirty seconds to make a hastey retreat from the area surrounding the townhall.  *Hiss* The flame was travelling along the oil soaked rope unnervingly fast.  The stranger rose to his feet, turned on his heels and ran from the room.  Taking the steps to the ground floor two at a time, he was aware that so far he had used up ten of his thirty seconds.

Not long left, quickening his pace he sprinted down the steps to the Townhall in such a hurry he did not notice his body sash being torn off on a lose nail sticking at an awkward angle in the wall...


An eerie silence falls over the town of Cove; commoners, traders, noblemen, all within the walls of Cove stop what they are doing and look up in unison in anticipation of a coming storm.

*BOOM*  A thunderous crash rumbles throughout the town, shaking the ground beneath the feet of the Covians and causing many of them to cower in fear.  Those seeking the source of the blast look into the distance and see a cloud of smoke billowing from the direction of the Townhall.


As the cloud of dust settles, a group of Covian guards rush to the entrance of the building to search for survivors.  They are greeted by a sash hanging on a nail at the partly intact portion of the entrance. 

A sash belonging to the Yew Militia...[/i]

Does this meen the boom box tournement is cancelled?

Bleedin great idea to leave all that powder in the town hall just ready for em

*Shakes head*

Crikey! Erm... ahem *Looks around innocently*  Ain't nothin' t'do wi' me Mister Serpernt, I moved me barrels o' gunpowder out o' the Townhall erm... yesterday evenin'!  *Nods his head sincerely*.

Tha' means th'Boom Box tournament will still be runnin' Mister Sendrich sire 'cause me barrels o' gunpowder are safely stored... somewhere else... tha' isn't th'Townhall!

*Drops his quill still dripping with ink and scarpers into town to get some fresh barrels of gunpowder for the Boom Box tournament*

With Cove being squeezed by the icey grip of Winter, the destruction of the Townhall could not have come at a worse time.  Those that lost their lives in the blast have been mourned and buried, now the focus of the town officials (aghast at the possibility of conducting town meetings outside in the elements) is on the rebuilding of the Townhall.

Early this Sunday morning, peasants, beggars and anyone else looking to make a few crowns were hired to clear away the remaining rubble and prepare the site ready for the building work.  An architect mapped out a plan for the new site, a list of materials was drawn up and the list delivered to the Crafter's Union.


All that is required now are some civilians willing to perform the gruelling work amidst the onset of a Covian winter...[/i]