Jay's Game - We Do Evil Right
The half-elf known as Dathnor Illesarn stumbled meekly across the tundra and into Dougan's Hole. At first, the townsfolk dismissed Dathnor as another weary traveler; few cared enough to even look in his direction or flash a cursory smile.
Finally, once Dathnor had reached the front of the Hairy Lemon Tavern, the young traveler fell to his knees and there he stayed for some time.
A woman, a tailor, stopped to see Dathnor. "Young man," she said. "I've not seen you in town before. Are you new to Doughan's Hole?"
Dathnor took a moment to collect his thoughts. He barely understood this woman's strange accent and he was obviously a stranger in a strange land.
"I am called Dathnor Illesarn," he said. "I hail from the Nelanther Isles."
"You are a long way from home, young man."
Dathnor smiled and got to his feet.
"Do you travel alone?" she asked. "And in such clothing? You'll catch the death!"
Dathnor was indeed ill-prepared for his frosty journey. He looked down at a thin layer of clothing over his plate armor, then back to the woman. "Good lady, my caravan was attacked somewhere near here. Did you know that there are GIANTS about?"
The woman laughed. "Giants? Yes. Everyone knows they are about."
"I am the only survivor. It is only with Amauntor's grace that I made it this far."
The tailor ushered Dathnor inside the Hairy Lemon. It was mid-morning and the place was fairly deserted.
"Sit down here," she said. "I must be on my way, but Harry there will see to it that you are cared for."
The woman left and within moments, Harry, the tavern's proprietor, was over to see Dathnor.
"You look like you could use a stout ale, my friend."
Dathnor looked up at Harry. The young half-elf had been through quite a lot in his 25 years. For the past 6, he had served aboard the Viable, a merchant ship that had sailed the western coast of Faerun from the Nelanther Isles and finally landing at Luskan. From there, Dathnor led a merchant caravan across the Sword Coast, to Hindelstone and eventually toward the Ten Towns. It was when his caravan crossed the River Shaengare that the giants attacked.
"A few, perhaps," Dathnor replied.
Dathnor Illesarn spent the next few hours at the Hairy Lemon, getting a feel for the town of Dougan's Hole and its inhabitants. With no real compass at this point, the young half-elf had no plans and felt rather discouraged about braving the wilds outside. He drank and drank, spending nearly the last of his coin. With only 11 gold coins left in his purse, Dathnor plopped one down for a room and spent the night, hoping that the next day's light and Amauntor's grace would show him the way.