It was a bad year, in a bad age, in a corner of the world so remote, no man had been more than seven leagues from his birthplace in over a generation.  The orcs were rampaging over the Chainer Mountains, taking as many slaves as they pleased from the outlying farms.  Mysterious cultists brought ill omens.<br/><br/>That was when the elves came to Velith.  First they came by ones and twos, then entire parties of elves began to arrive in the town, seeking news of the troubles in the human lands.  Many thought they came to observe, rather than to help.  The new generation of adventurers, the hope of the scattered lands of men, met in a tavern.<br/><br/>You all find yourselves in the Blushing Nymph, a stately old tavern in the heart of Velith.  In the middle of the day, the tavern is rather quiet, with only a few scattered travelers around.  A party of elves and a party of dwarves both occupy corner tables, while the PCs themselves have a couple of booths reserved towards the back.  In another area of the tavern, a kindly looking old man in a white robe sat at a table, as if waiting for someone.  The bar is manned by the retired old adventurer Sinner Sinnereye, or so he demands others call him.  The bartender casually polishes a glass, watching for any sign that his customers might want to buy another drink.