The creature of cole castle

[Big Boss]

The setting begins in a village up in the mountains, its a fairly good size and boasts 2000 villagers. Something that is rare to find for a snow village.

"Hmmm, so tell me more of this castle good sir" Kin said as he took another puff on his cigar. He was at the local pub trying to gain the trust of the town only being an outsider for a few days, Kins main goal was to be liked first, its easier to gain knowledge when you are trusted. "Aye" the older man spoke up, "There is a path up north, the castle lies up on the top of the mountain, a days walk for any man, though, the last time anyone has went up there, was 10 years ago, and it was a group trip of 14.... only 3 returned, spoke of a horrible monster that lived there." the man drank some beer and wiped his mouth with his shirt and cleared his throat. "A monster you say huh?" Kin said as he took another puff.

OCC: this is a group RP, everyone will be on the same side, there is something in that castle that you are looking for, for everyone its a different object, that's why you have traveled all the way to the village. Also keep in mind there is a blizzard out.

[Kismet]

Iskra sipped her tea slowly, listening attentively to the conversation by the counter. She had sat idly by in the tavern’s dark corner, allowing the one eyed man to extract all the information she needed from the old man for her. She had already known bits and pieces of the story before arriving at the village, but the tale was beginning to take a clearer picture in her mind. As the wind howled savagely against the tavern’s wooden frame, she reflected on the events that led her to this God forsaken place.

“Ten years ago, my brother died.” The hunched, whither figure had said. “He and thirteen other fools sought glory and found ruin, in a dark castle, perched upon a dark mountain, buried in the snow.” The fire in the mantelpiece had burned ominously, casting long shadows across the folds of his robes, with his twisted, knotted hands folded on his lap.

“Along with his life, my brother lost a sword. With his passing, that sword belongs to me.” He looked up, his burning eyes seeming to glow in the shadows. “I want you to get it back.”

Iskra set her empty tea cup down and folded her hands across her chin. A sword worth its weight in gold. That’s what she was here for. The old man’s story hadn’t held the slightest bit of interest for her. The old man himself had been an interesting villain, his simmering resentment kept under a frigid iron lid, but his story was irrelevant. Iskra was here because the job paid well. She was here because the job required a certain skill set which she specialized in. There was a monster that needed killing.

Iskra was here because she was good at that.