“A rather simple thing, really. As some of you humans say, ‘you scratch my back, I’ll scratch your back’. Metaphorically speaking, of course, given how I do not require my back literally scratched, and how even if I did I am fully capable of doing so myself. But you understand, I believe.”

The blind elf pauses for a moment, as if in thought.

“I digress. Yes, I do require a small thing to be done. It is a trifle, nothing of any true importance, but it is of sentimental value to me and I would appreciate it retrieved.” Voaer: The elf is a terrible liar. “As I understand it, this complex is new: a mere three hundred years old as you reckon time. They were built over a far older set of catacombs, one that was carved out of this land’s very foundations even before your City was settled. These catacombs has served many purposes in the past, from dwarven burial chambers to temporary storage facilities and even as sewers; most recently, however, they were pressed into service by a group of smugglers who used them to transport goods in and out of the City during the War.

“On one of their trips, they were attacked, and part of that cargo was lost in the process. Amongst that lost cargo is a small cedar chest: this is the item that concerns me right now, and I am desirous of its return. What I propose is straightforward enough: as a show of my goodwill, I will show you a way to retrieve your equipment without the guards detecting you. You may then take your chances by killing your way out of this dungeon complex and risk the City Watch coming after you once they detect your disappearance and subsequent mbumacre, or fetch me said item from the catacombs.

“I promise you that, should you do this small thing for me, you will be able to depart from these prison cells without any trouble. There will be no repercussions from the City Watch as long as you stay low and remain inconspicuous; this I can guarantee you, upon my word and honour. The choice, however, is yours alone.”

Saying so, he reaches into his robes and retrieves a tiny silver bell, which he tinkles softly. Nothing appears to happen, but he returns the bell to his robes and flashes the half-smile at the three of you, waiting expectantly for your answer. The gnome, with his usual uselessness, has returned to being curled up in a foetal position on the floor.

Zakarion: You’ve heard of these catacombs; Vlel was buried there when he died. As for the smugglers, there were some rumours, but wars are always rife with rumours anyway.

Cenbuma: Your hackles rose when the bell tinkled, for no apparent reason.

Cenbuma: You’ve heard of these “catacombs”; really, it’s just the old City sewers. You’ve seen a couple of the blueprints in the Academy library and heard of some of the younger apprentices going “adventuring” there occasionally. As far as you know, all of them returned in one piece. The question remains, though: why does this elf not go get it himself?

 

God that was a long exposition. Thank god he’s not a villain… or is he? Your move, adventurers.