“Hic! So… where wuz I? Ah, yesh, Dragon’s Delve! Iffin’ I was young n’ strong n’ good wit’ a sword, that’s where I go to make my fortune and git out of this miserable excuse fir a life. Yessir… I overheard some of those adventurin’ types one evenin’ while I wast enjoying my evenin’ ale. Said they was headin’ to the Fallen Duh.. Hic! ... Duh.. Hic! Duchy! Headin’ to the Fallen Duchy to meet wit’ some folks in some burg called Bradeyfort? Brandywine? ... Brindenford! Yeah, that’s the one.

Anyhow, they were goin’ to meet these folks on account there’s been some trouble in tha area. Big beasty trouble. Seems there’s been nasty things crawing up out of the ruins of Duchy’s old keep. Nothin’ too unusual like there, I think. All sort of wandering beasties lookin’ fir trouble in those parts. But, it gets better! Turns out the keep ain’t nothing compared to what lies down below. Seems as though the old Duke built it on some old Dwarven fortress er some such. Only now, instead of short, bearded folk, it’s filled with all kinds a’freaks. And all the treasure those stumpy greedy Dwarves left behind, which as you well know, is more than you and I’ll ever see. Gold hordin’ little bastards… Hic! Oh! That ain’t the best part, though. Turns out, at the very bottom of this whole ordeal, all the way down, lives an honest-to-gods Dragon! One wit’ enough gold to make a man rich forever and then some. Ahh… It’s beautifical thought, ain’t it? Yessir… iffin’ only I was young and could swing a sword…“

-Burke, a drunk.

The Quick and the Dead
(Dramatis Personae)