The road called to many. To some of those it called, it offered an escape – from a life that threatened to become monotonous, from a troubling past or from dark memories. To others the road offered a taste of adventure or a chance to begin again – to start over.

Along the road lay small inns and taverns, places to pause and set aside the load one carried. Sometimes these points were merely stopping points along the road to another destination, sometimes they themselves were the destination. One such inn was known as the Tilting Tankard.

The bright lights, the warm food and cold ale, and the clinking of glasses and plates called to those on the road – from both far and near. They would set aside their burdens and rest – if only for a moment. Each person who walked through the doors, even if they stayed for but one night, had a tale to tell.

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