Slimeboi99

You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.”

Eareldion hides his distain at this lowly creature, after all, his mother had always said that elves were to be kind to the lesser folk, even if they are yet lower.  Eareldion is of the highest race of elves, however, and no one should refer to him as any commoner.  "Eareldion is a Mali'thill from the Silver Citadel.  He do not seek to harm your kind but his business is his own and he shall see to it as he will."  he leaves the tent abruptly, wondering what the old hag meant by, "expecting you."  He soon forgets it, however, as he notices several of his own kind conversing in an alley between a cabin and an inn.  Warily, he approaches them, wondering what they are doing here in this dingy town.  He wonders if they know anything about the recent attack.  Eareldion had been part of a band of elven diplomats and politicians, seeking a new trade agreement with the dwarves.  Suddenly, he had been attacked by a gang of men.  From the looks of them they seemed desperate, and their faces were covered in soot.  Internally he wondered what might have caused their attack.  Was their village burned down and they were forced into a life of crime to survive?  He hoped not, but after this you would be especially suspicious of the race of men.  "Hail, elven warriors! Eareldion shouts as he hurries toward them"  One of the elves smiles at him and offers his hand, Eareldion shakes it, but from the looks of these elves they are of mixed heritage, one of them even appears to be half man!  Eareldion takes on a snooty demeanor and asks,  "Eareldion Melohai wants to know if any of you saw the gang of men who attacked his party."  "HA, good luck with that one, men have been of no concern of ours for years."  "Orcs, however, are different.  Should you see any of our orcish brothers, alert us and we will come immediately."  Having been turned down, Eareldion stops at the nearest map for direction and begins his journey toward the nearest elven outpost.  He is troubled that they don't want to help but someone in his position of councilman would see that they thought better of turning you down.  While all this transpires in his head, Eareldion is suddenly interrupted by an arrow, just barely missing his chest.