Perils of Adventure – Prologue
It must be said that the Sleepy Sheep Tavern seldom lived up to its name. As the only halfway decent place to get a suitably fermented drink for miles around, the Sheep had long been something of a local treasure. Day after day, the siren call of revelry served to draw in a steady influx of off-duty labourers from the area’s bountiful farms and the many lumber camps which skirted the edge of Wolfhome Forest alike. That call alone was enough to ensure the tavern saw a healthy number of patrons still drowning their boredom well into most evenings. On payday at the lumber camps, though, when every other hale and hearty fellow for miles had coin to spend, well it was those nights that saw thirsty workers descend upon the tavern in droves to …