Her companions seemed oblivious to her blatant lie, proud at the compliment of their home town. “Not just the smiths’ lass!” says the short one, downing a big gulp of ale. “Some of the best craftsman in the land are here too. I myself am a potter of great renown and my friend Benjamin here can work glass with the best of them.” They both laughed jovially until she asked about the drow. There demeanor became much more sober.<br/><br/>“Aye lass, you came at a bad time in this towns’ history,” Joe said, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he looked out the window, into the waning light. “Those black devils stole in at night, grabbing whoever they could before disappearing. We lost five smiths and three craftsmen though I don’t know if they deliberately targeted them or just grabbed who they could. I wish I knew why they target Sirlev.” He downed a big gulp of his drink as if trying to make sense of it all.<br/><br/>Benjamin nodded in agreement. “That drow woman who got left behind crowed like a rooster after we got done with her,” he said with a dark chuckle. “She had no idea why Sirlev was targeted, just told to grab whoever but she was bottom ranked even someone tried to take her out.” He said, not knowing drow culture very much. “The city council pooled some money and went in search of some sorta guy nicknamed “The Shadow” or whatever. I just hope he can live up to his reputation,” he says.<br/>