D&D Campaign Thing - 'Thief' Inspired Setting
Kel'Ibalon, The City:
Old, soot-blackened stone and the filthy cobbles, the flicker of lamplight and the smell of smoke and garbage – the bustling of the dregs as they wander to and fro, from tavern to tavern, whore to whore – the sound of metal against metal, of hoof against pavement, the buzzing of electricity flowing into the lampposts – this is how The City greets you on this night.
Above, the towers and ancient spires of the cathedrals touch against the brim of the ashen sky. In the distance, glowing brightly, you see the massive clock-tower at the City's center, rising above the mass of tenements and warehouses, the buildings built together so tightly - barely planned. The great iron hands of the clock-tower slowly creak into place and soon the bells sound the coming of Midnight, the ringing echoes across the city, stirring murders of crows into flight above the rooftops.
You walk beneath cobblestone arches held up by iron trusses – the ancient city bolstered by the new material, the stone kept alive with the infusion of steel. You walk between the mash of wood and mortar, the decaying shops and through the metal gates. The City Watch passes you, eyes you over, at every corner, every intersection. You pass the hungry, the destitute, huddled in alleys and burning refuse for warmth. No one pays them heed. You hear the sound of laughter from the taverns, the arguments of drunks, the moanings of the working women. This is Olde Quarter.
You hold the parchment in your hand, reading over it again:
"My employer has seen fit to assist you in your recent difficulties. He has not done so out of the kindness of his heart – he requires your skills, your hiring, as repayment for the service he has rendered you. You are to meet me at the Blue Scabbard on the 25th of September, by Midnight. Present the coin in this envelope to the barkeep and he shall bring you to me.
My employer wishes to assure you that your presence is not optional, and if you fail to appear his reach is such that he can place you back into the circumstances from which he so gratiously liberated you.
This is not a threat, this is a promise, and for you – a great opportunity.
-Viktoria "
This is the place – a small, rowdy tavern by the riverside. Acracked brick building nestled at the corner across from shops and marketstalls. The smell of ale and cheap meat wafts out from the door. You push your way past the drunk resting in the archway and enter – this, for you, will be a night to remember.
