One fine day, while lounging about the Main Hall, you noticed two newcomers who were exceptional, even compared to the extraordinary types who hung about with the Irishman. One was uncommonly fair to look upon, a High-Elf by the look of him. But the other — a small, nondescript man in dingy robes, but with eyes to pierce steel; the look of one not to be trifled with.
Looking about the hall, he spied you. "This one," he said. They approached.
"Good sir," he said to you, "I have a proposition in which you might have interest. The good elf and I represent sponsors of a forthcoming expedition into the abandoned mines of Moria. There will be a worthy quest, fabulous loot, and incredible danger. Dost thou have interest in such an adventure?"
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