It is a fine evening in the town of Valarn. The setting sun casts brilliant rays of orange light across the sloping, thatched roofs of the town, which in turn cast their long shadows across the plowed fields beyond. A gentle evening breeze is in the air; chilly but not unpleasant, and the occasional cricket chirps in the grass beside the road. The town is small but not shabby, consisting simply of a main street flanked by sturdy stone or wooden buildings with thatched roofs. The largest of these is a two story wooden building outside which a sign reads 'The Thricehung Bard'. The town hall, general store and the smithy stand beside it. Behind it, down by the river, stands the lumber mill.

A little way out of town stands an old, stone manor. Its walls are completely covered in ivy, and number of tiles are missing from the roof. The garden outside is overgrown and parts of the stone wall beyond have collapsed. The Dranerius Manor. No one lives there anymore, and the townsfolk avoid it if they can. Old Dranerius' son spends all his time in a cabin somewhere in the wood these days. And well he might, the folk all say, given what his father was...

On the other side of town stands a much more well kept manor. The smoke rising from the chimney, combined with the flowering spring garden and neatly trimmed lawn, serve to give it a friendly and welcoming look. Dorin Durendil's Estate. The only dwarf in town (save when one of his many nephews or cousins come to visit), he is well known and well liked for both his generosity and good humor, and equally as a staunch advocate for the poorer members of society.