It was a cold winter day along the Olde Kings Road, west of Fallcrest, when Elmara Ironhews, daughter of the famous fallcrest blacksmith Teldorthan Ironhews, was guiding her wagon eastward, back to fallcrest.  She had Just spent the night in Winterhaven to the west, after acquiring a rare piece of dragon’s hide from her Dwarven relitives, and she was bringing it back to Fallcrest for her father to fashion into fine armour.

Her wagon rounded the final bend, descending from the Hilly Gardburry Downs, and entering the grassy flat lands just north of the dangerous Cloakwood.  Just then, she heard a rustling sound in the trees to the south of the road.  Before she could get her head around to look, a sling bullet struck her in the side of the helm, knocking her out cold.  She awoke in darkness, a burlap sack pulled over her face.

She was groggy, and had a throbbing pain in the right side of her thick dwarven skull, just above her right ear.  Not only was there a bag over her head, but when she tried to move, she found her hands and feet were bound, and she could feel a stone slab beneath her back, as well as the iron bars of a cage against her side.  She calmed herself for a moment, and forced herself to listen carefully to the sounds around her, trying to pick up any clues to her surroundings, and how she might escape.

She could here high pitched raspy voices whispering and chattering around her.  She began to make out bits and pieces of there language, intermixed with comon, and after a while, recognition set in.  Kobolds!  Those scaley little bastards!  And they were talking about sacrificing her to Tiamat!  “I must find a way to escape!” she thought to herself.

Meanwhile, back in Fallcrest, Telorthan Ironhews, Elmara’s father, anxiously awaited her return.  When she did not arive at the appointed time, he imediatly suspected foul play, and the kobalds of Kobald Hall where the prime suspects on his list.  These Kobolds had been growing increasingly bold in there atacks as of late,  to the point that the town council had been concidering comisioning an adventuring party to adress the situation.  They had put together a list of canidates from around town to form this party.  It was from this list that Teldorthan drew names to send his letters to.   As a small test of compitance, Teldorthan decided not to sign the letters, and instead make the adventurers figure out it’s source.

The first person to recieve the letter was the mad wizard, an exentric spellcaster of nobal birth.  Letters where also dispatched to his enterage, wich includes the lady Zarek Kyrian D’Valarius, a dragonborn warlord, and a Half-Elf palidine by the name of Oakenheart.  Letters where also dispatched to an Elf ranger from Harkenwold named D’orthonian, and a Tiefling fighter named Morthius.

All of the adventures met at the Nentir Inn, on the west bank of the Nentir River at sunrise on the appointed date.  At first, everyone had assumed that the Mad Wizard had sent the unsigned letters, because that seemed like his usual exentric behavour, but affter it became evident that this wasn’t the case, the party discussed how to track down the source of these letters.  It ended up being a simple matter of finding the town crier who had delivered them, and asking him of the source.  This chain of events led them to Teldorthans doorstep.

Teldorthan told the the adventures the story of the lost dragon hide, and how he suspect the Kobalds of Kobald Hall, an abandon manor west of town now overrun with the greedy little lizards.  He oferd up a reward of 200 gold falcons to the party if the recover the hide, but for some unkonwn reason, he never mentioned his daughter.  Perhaps he was to stricken with grief to face the fact the she may have parished.  So the party, after some discusion, the rag-tag band of sell-swords and spell slingers accepted the task, and set off towards Kobald Hall.