From the introduction:
Adventurers are an intrepid and
resourceful bunch. They break the mold
of normal life, leaving the relative safety
and surety of the home, farm, and shop
to travel the world, seeking out opportunities
wherever they may be. At least a few free souls
of every race and gender feel the call of the
open road or and soon find themselves delving
into deep caves and ancient dungeons, raiding
fortified bastions of authority and power (or just
seeking solitude) atop high mountains. Often for
these adventurers, the journey ends up being
quite lucrative, either by intent or circumstance.
Still, getting started as an adventurer can be
expensive, what with the sword, bow, rope,
beginner’s big book of spells, armor, robes, rope,
pouch, belt, more rope... oh and a healing potion
seems like it might be useful. It all adds up and
while the average adventurer may have saved
up about a year’s worth of wages (give or take)
before they start out, there’s always a need for
just a little extra coin.
Even the seasoned adventurer in the middle of an
epic quest of monumental importance (striking
down the feared Bunnytaurs of Lepordopterous)
may find themselves with a bunch of bruises and
not much money to show for it. Couple that with
the alchemists asking hefty sums in exchange for
turning your nice, shiny (but ultimately
average) sword into a Flaming Longsword
of Whirling Flames (and Redundancy).
Faced with this unenviable situation, most
adventurers go off and pillage an ancient ruin or
ten. Others, though, look at the fluffy, luxurious
pelts of the animals running around them and
think, “I wonder if I can murder a bunch of animals
for fun and profit.” They can, and so can you!
Still, even if you’re not in it for the cash (and you
call yourself an adventurer?) you can still learn to
live off the land, taking what you need from the
world around you, finding your meat and tools on
the hooves of herd animals.
It’s certainly a wonderful theory, and a resourceful
adventurer is physically and mentally capable of
living off the land. But what about the animals?
How will the plucky elven archer know if he’s
hit his mark, or if the deer escaped, leaving the
party to a dreary dinner of root and tuber stew?
(Seriously, Derrick? Again? Learn to use that bow
you’re always polishing!)
What about the wizard who, in order to gain the
barbarian tribe’s trust, must find a way to make
the killing blow on the mammoth hunt? How
should the noble knight know if his faithful falcon
struck true or if he shall be the shame of the feast
hall that eve? Or the most important question:
How much will Honest Achmed pay us for all of
these beaver skins?
Well, let’s find out...