It doesn’t matter how you wound up in this tavern. You don’t really remember, anyway. Maybe you simply woke up to find your head against one of the tables. Maybe you were on an adventure, or maybe you were walking home. Perhaps you were trying to save the world – or destroy it. Maybe you were at death’s door, or already beyond the threshold. It doesn’t matter, not when you take a sip of the strangely spiced drink that seems to just appear in front of you, your head buzzing with two different lives, none of which currently make sense – the one that might have taken place before you wound up here, and the one that gave you the interestingly styled clothes on your back.
A creased piece of parchment catches your eye, nailed to the table in front of you. You can’t help your own curiosity, so you lean across the table to read it.
Are you looking for a live of adventure? Are you looking for treasure? Or are you, like so many others, simply looking for someone you might know – or someone who might know why you’re here?
Accept the call to crew a ship of men and women like yourself, free from the law, and roam the seas to find whatever it is you’re seeking.
Ask the barman for directions – that, or we’ll find you.”
It isn’t signed, but the barman is grinning at you from across the room, and then the tavern door opens.