In the dimly lit, smoke-filled tavern of the Shadow Weaver's Guild, a hooded figure slipped in unnoticed, their eyes scanning the room for potential marks. Their mission: to pilfer a valuable gemstone from the unsuspecting proprietor.
With a flick of their wrist, a nearby candle flickered and died, plunging the room into an eerie silence. The figure sprang into action, snatching a small pouch from the proprietor's belt and making a break for the shadows.
The proprietor, a stout dwarf with a bushy beard, was not one to be trifled with. His eyes narrowed, he called out, "You! Shadow Weaver! Come back here and face me!"
But the Shadow Weaver was long gone, vanished into the night, leaving behind only a trail of subtle clues and a whispered rumor of a hidden lair, deep within the heart of the city's sewer system.
Read on for more of the Shadow Weaver's dastardly deeds, in our next installment: