Silver Valley is a large town made up predominately of humans, and was built to surround the southern face of a great mountain inhabited by Warsong, a Dwarven clan renowned for their work in crafting items from the rich silver veins of Mount Silvore.
The humans (and other assorted races) have found a market niche living so close to the dwarves. The sturdy mountain folk and their forges are ever hungry, and the F.O.N.E. ( forest of no end) to the south provides more than enough wood, hunting and fishing to feed both settlements.
Both have enjoyed relative peace and quiet for many years but, as the saying goes, when it rains, it pours.
Rumors have spread in all directions of recent troubles. More and more people are never returning from the Forest. It has been reported that trails have been tracked to a large lake deep within the forest and simply dissapear, as if the people simply walked into the deep body of water and never looked back.
To make matters worse, the streets of Silver Valley have recently given birth to a new Thieves Guild calling themselves The Trolls. They started as little more than a nuisance, "Trolling" the townsfolk with childish pranks. But with the arrival of a sinister leader, rumored to be a ruthless individual, they have become much more dangerous and motivated.
Lastly, no one has heard from the dwarves for many days. They have shut their great silver doors, and even the guards have dissapeared. The few dwarves who make their homes as tradesmen in the town below have no answer to this mystery.
Clad in nearly skin-tight leather armour that had been dyed black as night and oiled to muffle the sound of movement, the half-elf woman Seville looked the part of the professional sneak. A mask to cover the lower half of her face and a pair of tinted goggles — both hanging loose about her neck at the moment — would complete the ensemble, both obscuring her identity and allowing her the benefit of clear vision and lungs. She was, in fact, a professional sneak; she'd received training and served as a military scout in the war before last. She might have remained in the army and pursued an honourable career in clandestine service to her liege and homeland, but for the fact that her liege's army has been defeated, her liege deposed, and her homeland given to some other noble to rule at the end of the last war. Such was the way of things.
When not on the job, she'd usually wear a travelling cloak over her armour to avoid drawing attention to herself. But just now she'd left the cloak hung over a lantern post, for she was actively looking for trouble: she'd heard about the Trolls, and finding her way into something like a stable organization seemed a good idea even if it were criminal. Without a homeland to return to, the thieves' guild that had sprung up in Silver Valley seemed like as reasonable a lead as any to find work and perhaps a sense of belonging. And so there was Seville, a former scout and would-be spy, in the open — exposed — and clearly displaying to observant onlookers that she was up to no good or at least looking to be. She knew she'd stand out among the townsfolk, and even perhaps among other transient adventurers, and that was exactly what she wanted for now. Her hope was that by doing nothing at all untoward and heading to someplace like the local tavern she'd draw the right — or perhaps the wrong — kind of attention and soon find work presenting itself.
Seville Female half-elf rogue 1 N medium humanoid (elf) Init +8 (+4 Dex, +4 improved initiative); Senses low-light vision AC 16, touch 14, flat-footed 12 (+4 Dex, +2 leather) HP 7 (1d6+1) Fort +1, Ref +6, Will +2 Defensive Abilities none yet Speed 30 ft. (light load) Melee dagger +2 (1d4) Ranged dart +4 (1d4) Special Abilities sneak attack +1d6, trapfinding Str 14, Dex 18, Con 12, Int 18, Wis 14, Cha 16 Base Atk +0 Feats improved initiative, skill focus (Gather Information) Skills appraise +4, balance +8, bluff +3, climb +6, concentration +1, diplomacy +5, disable device +8, disguise +3, forgery +4, gather information +12, heal +2, hide +8, intimidate +3, jump +6, listen +7, move silently +8, open lock +8, ride +4, search +9, sense motive +2, spot +7, survival +2, swim +2, tumble +8, use rope +4 Languages common, dwarven, elven, gnoll, goblin, orc Equipment dagger, leather armor; climbing kit, thieves' tools
More than a few heads follow your passing as you make your way along the simply designed streets of Silver Valley.
The city is layed out into three major sections, or districts, separated by walls and gates in a semi circle with the great Mount Silvore at the center of the flat northern wall. You quickly gather that the closer to the mountain you get, the wealthier the citizen is that resides there. You have access to two districts: Southside and the Central Market. The gates leading to Northside are well guarded and closed to the general public.
Taverns in the Central Market
The Foaming Gallon (Tavern only)
Dew Drop Inn (Tavern and Inn)
The Stage (Tavern, Inn, and assorted entertainment)
Taverns of Southside
The Copper Pot (Tavern Only)
Moonlighters (Tavern and Erotic Dancers)
Any passing citizen can give you the names and directions to these five official taverns. Which of these shall be your destination? It is early evening, with a slight spring mist in the air.
Seville made no effort to avoid drawing notice to herself as she asked directions to gain a feel for the town, and she did nothing to dissuade onlookers from watching or following her. Those who cared to look closely at her noticed loops, pockets, and straps sewn into the torso and about the waist of her armour, each the dedicated place for some implement of her trade almost but not quite fully tucked away from view: lockpicks, pitons, the disassembled prongs of a grappling hook, pins, probes, and so on. The sheathe for a dagger was sewn against the small of her back. After gaining a mental layout of the town, the half-elf redoubles her tracks to see if her travelling cloak has been left undisturbed where she'd left it,.
When the lampost comes into view, you spot a very dirty child tugging at your cloak. The hood has become stuck on the top point, and the young human girl of approximately six years seems to be struggling with it. No one else is around at this time. The density of rain is gradually increasing, but not yet by much.
Neither in any particular hurry to be somewhere, nor wishing to appear so, the half-elf meanders along the way back to where she'd left her cloak in plain view of anyone who cares to watch her. Soon after catching sight of the lamppost and the dirty child tugging at her cloak, Seville affixes her tinted goggles into place to keep her vision clear in the rain. Maintaining her stride, she walks right up to the girl and stops long enough to make eye contact. She says nothing to her, but then moves away without taking the garment. Carrying on toward the tavern, Moonlighters, she listens for signs of being followed but otherwise intends to think no more of the child and her plight.
The child stumbles backward at your approach, falling to land on her rump to look up at you, but also says nothing. A few feet away, you can hear her returning to her struggle with the cloak.
Listening intently as you are, it isnt long before you hear drums echoing out through the streets, playing a seductive beat that feels somehow unnaturally alluring.
The source of the music becomes more obvious as Moonlighters comes into view. You feel a wave of desire wash over you, and feel the inclination to dance in the street. It is not overpowering, but it is indeed uplifting.
Just as you approach the door, the music inside comes to a sudden stop, as if it had never been playing. A strange feeling comes over you and you wonder if your last few steps had originated in your own mind, but have little time to consider the sensation as the door flings open wide to reveal a large, shirtless half orc male.
His great muscles flex taught as he tosses a short, bald man out into the street with a gutteral growl. The man lands with all the grace of a sack of tomatoes, first hitting his knees to buckle over onto his stomach. He rolls a few feet and ends up on his back, moaning pitifully.
Only then does the half orc notice you, and he visibly straightens, eyes widening before narrowing in a mix of lust and curiosity.
"Must be Ruby's cousin," he says with a nod of approval. "Yer early, Misty aint here yet. But yer drinks on me while ya wait." He finishes with a lewd wink, and motions for you to enter underneath his outstreched arm even as the music starts up again
The half-elf says nothing to the half-orc, merely pauses in place while the other man is thrown out, then steps forward when bade. The goggles come off as she passes through the doorway, and she makes a point of tossing her hair in his direction as she scans the interior. Pausing for a moment just inside the doorway, Seville stands at around 5'6" with a slender frame, olive skin, clear blue eyes, hair as black as her armour, sharply defined eyebrows of the same colour, and ears that are not quite as long as the pure-blooded. She makes a bee-line for the bar after a few seconds, and takes a seat wherever seems most conspicuous. She was here, after all, to find business - no need to make it difficult for business to find her. With that in mind, she orders exactly one drink: top-shelf, only the one, and merely sips at it.
The first thing you notice when entering Moonlighters is the source of the drumming. A half elf male is sitting behind several bongos of varying tones, slapping and palming them with such skill that you can hardly follow the movements. There are currently no dancers, but the maids are all scantically clad and very easy on the eyes.
Most of the patrons appear as commoners, hard working men here to feast their eyes and bellies, but one clearly sticks out as peculiar.
He is a young man even by human standards, barely having crested adulthood. He is draped in a black cloak, wearing dark brown leather armor underneath. As you take your seat at the bar, you notice him go from comfortably seated to rushing toward the exit.
The bartender serves your drink, and an hour passes by before you notice the same cloaked man re-enter the tavern, but now flanked by a halfling and another human. Patrons give them a wide breadth as the newcomers both fan out to opposite sides of the bar.
"Well met," the young man exclaims as he approaches you, one hand tucked casually under his cloak. "How long you in town for?"
An hour after taking her seat at the bar, Seville still has half her drink left - and more importantly, still has full command of her senses. She's held onto the drink with one hand the entire time, idly swirling it in its glass as the minutes ticked by, but now makes a point of cupping it with both hands. Surrounded as she was, there was no reason to put them on edge by hiding her hands.
"Until the Trolls find me something to do," she says as she lifts the glass and takes a sip. "Then who knows?"
His suprise at your bluntness is not hidden in his expression.
"Straight to the point," he chuckles. "But this is not the place to discuss such things."
He fumbles inside of his cloak for a moment, and soon produces a rolled parchment. After handing it to you, he motions for the other two to follow him, and they leave you to your drink.
The parchment reads:
" Meeting in the basement of the abandoned warehouse, just West of the South gate. Midnight."
Seville takes the parchment and tucks it into a pouch or pocket without saying a word. She nods slightly in reply, then waits a while after they've left before downing what remains of her drink and making her own exit. Once outside again she'll re-affix her goggles and once more return to the lamppost where she'd left her traveling cloak.
Seville smiles upon seeing the cloak gone. Way to go, kid. She then ducks out of sight, off of the main thoroughfares, and affixes her face-mask. Between then and midnight she would reconnoiter the area around the warehouse, find someplace hidden to survey it, and there watch for whatever interesting she may see. Unless anything stands out, she will keep her appointment as closely to the minute as possible - preferring to err on the side of being a bit early than a bit late.
You find the warehouse with relative ease, and it indeed seems long abandoned. As you watch, no one enters, and no one leaves. You find this to be particularly odd, especially as the midnight hour approaches.
As the midnight hour comes, Seville makes for the basement of the abandoned warehouse. If there's an exterior door directly to it - like a storm cellar - then she'll take that. If not, then she'll look for anyway in other than the front door. Preferably a second-floor window.
You do not find an exterior door leading to the basement.
All of the windows of the 2 story building have been boarded up to disencourage squatting, you imagine. You can try to remove some of these boards if you like. The roof of the warehouse is notably flat. There is a front, and back door. On the back side, there is a metal ladder leading to the roof.
D&D 3.5e campaign
Silver Valley is a large town made up predominately of humans, and was built to surround the southern face of a great mountain inhabited by Warsong, a Dwarven clan renowned for their work in crafting items from the rich silver veins of Mount Silvore.
The humans (and other assorted races) have found a market niche living so close to the dwarves. The sturdy mountain folk and their forges are ever hungry, and the F.O.N.E. ( forest of no end) to the south provides more than enough wood, hunting and fishing to feed both settlements.
Both have enjoyed relative peace and quiet for many years but, as the saying goes, when it rains, it pours.
Rumors have spread in all directions of recent troubles. More and more people are never returning from the Forest. It has been reported that trails have been tracked to a large lake deep within the forest and simply dissapear, as if the people simply walked into the deep body of water and never looked back.
To make matters worse, the streets of Silver Valley have recently given birth to a new Thieves Guild calling themselves The Trolls. They started as little more than a nuisance, "Trolling" the townsfolk with childish pranks. But with the arrival of a sinister leader, rumored to be a ruthless individual, they have become much more dangerous and motivated.
Lastly, no one has heard from the dwarves for many days. They have shut their great silver doors, and even the guards have dissapeared. The few dwarves who make their homes as tradesmen in the town below have no answer to this mystery.
Clad in nearly skin-tight leather armour that had been dyed black as night and oiled to muffle the sound of movement, the half-elf woman Seville looked the part of the professional sneak. A mask to cover the lower half of her face and a pair of tinted goggles — both hanging loose about her neck at the moment — would complete the ensemble, both obscuring her identity and allowing her the benefit of clear vision and lungs. She was, in fact, a professional sneak; she'd received training and served as a military scout in the war before last. She might have remained in the army and pursued an honourable career in clandestine service to her liege and homeland, but for the fact that her liege's army has been defeated, her liege deposed, and her homeland given to some other noble to rule at the end of the last war. Such was the way of things.
When not on the job, she'd usually wear a travelling cloak over her armour to avoid drawing attention to herself. But just now she'd left the cloak hung over a lantern post, for she was actively looking for trouble: she'd heard about the Trolls, and finding her way into something like a stable organization seemed a good idea even if it were criminal. Without a homeland to return to, the thieves' guild that had sprung up in Silver Valley seemed like as reasonable a lead as any to find work and perhaps a sense of belonging. And so there was Seville, a former scout and would-be spy, in the open — exposed — and clearly displaying to observant onlookers that she was up to no good or at least looking to be. She knew she'd stand out among the townsfolk, and even perhaps among other transient adventurers, and that was exactly what she wanted for now. Her hope was that by doing nothing at all untoward and heading to someplace like the local tavern she'd draw the right — or perhaps the wrong — kind of attention and soon find work presenting itself.
Seville
Female half-elf rogue 1
N medium humanoid (elf)
Init +8 (+4 Dex, +4 improved initiative); Senses low-light vision
AC 16, touch 14, flat-footed 12 (+4 Dex, +2 leather)
HP 7 (1d6+1)
Fort +1, Ref +6, Will +2
Defensive Abilities none yet
Speed 30 ft. (light load)
Melee dagger +2 (1d4)
Ranged dart +4 (1d4)
Special Abilities sneak attack +1d6, trapfinding
Str 14, Dex 18, Con 12, Int 18, Wis 14, Cha 16
Base Atk +0
Feats improved initiative, skill focus (Gather Information)
Skills appraise +4, balance +8, bluff +3, climb +6, concentration +1, diplomacy +5, disable device +8, disguise +3, forgery +4, gather information +12, heal +2, hide +8, intimidate +3, jump +6, listen +7, move silently +8, open lock +8, ride +4, search +9, sense motive +2, spot +7, survival +2, swim +2, tumble +8, use rope +4
Languages common, dwarven, elven, gnoll, goblin, orc
Equipment dagger, leather armor; climbing kit, thieves' tools
Aramys, Wood Elf Ranger - Eternal Warfare (5E)
Seville, Half-elf Rogue - Silver Valley (3.5E)
Seville
More than a few heads follow your passing as you make your way along the simply designed streets of Silver Valley.
The city is layed out into three major sections, or districts, separated by walls and gates in a semi circle with the great Mount Silvore at the center of the flat northern wall. You quickly gather that the closer to the mountain you get, the wealthier the citizen is that resides there. You have access to two districts: Southside and the Central Market. The gates leading to Northside are well guarded and closed to the general public.
Taverns in the Central Market
The Foaming Gallon (Tavern only)
Dew Drop Inn (Tavern and Inn)
The Stage (Tavern, Inn, and assorted entertainment)
Taverns of Southside
The Copper Pot (Tavern Only)
Moonlighters (Tavern and Erotic Dancers)
Any passing citizen can give you the names and directions to these five official taverns. Which of these shall be your destination? It is early evening, with a slight spring mist in the air.
Seville made no effort to avoid drawing notice to herself as she asked directions to gain a feel for the town, and she did nothing to dissuade onlookers from watching or following her. Those who cared to look closely at her noticed loops, pockets, and straps sewn into the torso and about the waist of her armour, each the dedicated place for some implement of her trade almost but not quite fully tucked away from view: lockpicks, pitons, the disassembled prongs of a grappling hook, pins, probes, and so on. The sheathe for a dagger was sewn against the small of her back. After gaining a mental layout of the town, the half-elf redoubles her tracks to see if her travelling cloak has been left undisturbed where she'd left it,.
Aramys, Wood Elf Ranger - Eternal Warfare (5E)
Seville, Half-elf Rogue - Silver Valley (3.5E)
When the lampost comes into view, you spot a very dirty child tugging at your cloak. The hood has become stuck on the top point, and the young human girl of approximately six years seems to be struggling with it. No one else is around at this time. The density of rain is gradually increasing, but not yet by much.
She has not yet noticed you.
What do you do?
Neither in any particular hurry to be somewhere, nor wishing to appear so, the half-elf meanders along the way back to where she'd left her cloak in plain view of anyone who cares to watch her. Soon after catching sight of the lamppost and the dirty child tugging at her cloak, Seville affixes her tinted goggles into place to keep her vision clear in the rain. Maintaining her stride, she walks right up to the girl and stops long enough to make eye contact. She says nothing to her, but then moves away without taking the garment. Carrying on toward the tavern, Moonlighters, she listens for signs of being followed but otherwise intends to think no more of the child and her plight.
Aramys, Wood Elf Ranger - Eternal Warfare (5E)
Seville, Half-elf Rogue - Silver Valley (3.5E)
The child stumbles backward at your approach, falling to land on her rump to look up at you, but also says nothing. A few feet away, you can hear her returning to her struggle with the cloak.
Listening intently as you are, it isnt long before you hear drums echoing out through the streets, playing a seductive beat that feels somehow unnaturally alluring.
The source of the music becomes more obvious as Moonlighters comes into view. You feel a wave of desire wash over you, and feel the inclination to dance in the street. It is not overpowering, but it is indeed uplifting.
Just as you approach the door, the music inside comes to a sudden stop, as if it had never been playing. A strange feeling comes over you and you wonder if your last few steps had originated in your own mind, but have little time to consider the sensation as the door flings open wide to reveal a large, shirtless half orc male.
His great muscles flex taught as he tosses a short, bald man out into the street with a gutteral growl. The man lands with all the grace of a sack of tomatoes, first hitting his knees to buckle over onto his stomach. He rolls a few feet and ends up on his back, moaning pitifully.
Only then does the half orc notice you, and he visibly straightens, eyes widening before narrowing in a mix of lust and curiosity.
"Must be Ruby's cousin," he says with a nod of approval. "Yer early, Misty aint here yet. But yer drinks on me while ya wait." He finishes with a lewd wink, and motions for you to enter underneath his outstreched arm even as the music starts up again
Silence is golden.
The half-elf says nothing to the half-orc, merely pauses in place while the other man is thrown out, then steps forward when bade. The goggles come off as she passes through the doorway, and she makes a point of tossing her hair in his direction as she scans the interior. Pausing for a moment just inside the doorway, Seville stands at around 5'6" with a slender frame, olive skin, clear blue eyes, hair as black as her armour, sharply defined eyebrows of the same colour, and ears that are not quite as long as the pure-blooded. She makes a bee-line for the bar after a few seconds, and takes a seat wherever seems most conspicuous. She was here, after all, to find business - no need to make it difficult for business to find her. With that in mind, she orders exactly one drink: top-shelf, only the one, and merely sips at it.
Time to wait.
Aramys, Wood Elf Ranger - Eternal Warfare (5E)
Seville, Half-elf Rogue - Silver Valley (3.5E)
The first thing you notice when entering Moonlighters is the source of the drumming. A half elf male is sitting behind several bongos of varying tones, slapping and palming them with such skill that you can hardly follow the movements. There are currently no dancers, but the maids are all scantically clad and very easy on the eyes.
Most of the patrons appear as commoners, hard working men here to feast their eyes and bellies, but one clearly sticks out as peculiar.
He is a young man even by human standards, barely having crested adulthood. He is draped in a black cloak, wearing dark brown leather armor underneath. As you take your seat at the bar, you notice him go from comfortably seated to rushing toward the exit.
The bartender serves your drink, and an hour passes by before you notice the same cloaked man re-enter the tavern, but now flanked by a halfling and another human. Patrons give them a wide breadth as the newcomers both fan out to opposite sides of the bar.
"Well met," the young man exclaims as he approaches you, one hand tucked casually under his cloak. "How long you in town for?"
An hour after taking her seat at the bar, Seville still has half her drink left - and more importantly, still has full command of her senses. She's held onto the drink with one hand the entire time, idly swirling it in its glass as the minutes ticked by, but now makes a point of cupping it with both hands. Surrounded as she was, there was no reason to put them on edge by hiding her hands.
"Until the Trolls find me something to do," she says as she lifts the glass and takes a sip. "Then who knows?"
The die is cast.
Aramys, Wood Elf Ranger - Eternal Warfare (5E)
Seville, Half-elf Rogue - Silver Valley (3.5E)
His suprise at your bluntness is not hidden in his expression.
"Straight to the point," he chuckles. "But this is not the place to discuss such things."
He fumbles inside of his cloak for a moment, and soon produces a rolled parchment. After handing it to you, he motions for the other two to follow him, and they leave you to your drink.
The parchment reads:
" Meeting in the basement of the abandoned warehouse, just West of the South gate. Midnight."
Seville takes the parchment and tucks it into a pouch or pocket without saying a word. She nods slightly in reply, then waits a while after they've left before downing what remains of her drink and making her own exit. Once outside again she'll re-affix her goggles and once more return to the lamppost where she'd left her traveling cloak.
Around what time is it?
Aramys, Wood Elf Ranger - Eternal Warfare (5E)
Seville, Half-elf Rogue - Silver Valley (3.5E)
By the time you reach the lamppost, it is around 10pm. It seems as if the waif was eventually able to remove the garment, as it is no longer there.
If you have anything else you would like to do, feel free. If not, we can fast forward to midnight.
Seville smiles upon seeing the cloak gone. Way to go, kid. She then ducks out of sight, off of the main thoroughfares, and affixes her face-mask. Between then and midnight she would reconnoiter the area around the warehouse, find someplace hidden to survey it, and there watch for whatever interesting she may see. Unless anything stands out, she will keep her appointment as closely to the minute as possible - preferring to err on the side of being a bit early than a bit late.
Aramys, Wood Elf Ranger - Eternal Warfare (5E)
Seville, Half-elf Rogue - Silver Valley (3.5E)
You find the warehouse with relative ease, and it indeed seems long abandoned. As you watch, no one enters, and no one leaves. You find this to be particularly odd, especially as the midnight hour approaches.
As the midnight hour comes, Seville makes for the basement of the abandoned warehouse. If there's an exterior door directly to it - like a storm cellar - then she'll take that. If not, then she'll look for anyway in other than the front door. Preferably a second-floor window.
Aramys, Wood Elf Ranger - Eternal Warfare (5E)
Seville, Half-elf Rogue - Silver Valley (3.5E)
You do not find an exterior door leading to the basement.
All of the windows of the 2 story building have been boarded up to disencourage squatting, you imagine. You can try to remove some of these boards if you like. The roof of the warehouse is notably flat. There is a front, and back door. On the back side, there is a metal ladder leading to the roof.
If the back door is unlocked, she'll try that. If not, then she'll take the ladder to the roof and look for a way in up there.
Aramys, Wood Elf Ranger - Eternal Warfare (5E)
Seville, Half-elf Rogue - Silver Valley (3.5E)
Back door is locked.
And so is the hatch leading down into the warehouse from the roof
Once on the roof and thereby presumably out of sight, Seville has no compunction against breaking and entering. Open Lock: 21
And unless there's obviously no way past the lock, she'll take her time. Take 10 (18) or Take 20 (28).
Aramys, Wood Elf Ranger - Eternal Warfare (5E)
Seville, Half-elf Rogue - Silver Valley (3.5E)