Snippet #2538929

Wrex marched along the dirt path. He hoped that the simple trail would lead him back to civilization, hopefully one that would be able to point him back in the direction of his homelands. This was not his first time visiting human lands, as he knew that the dwarves would not come to surface.

A few hours of walking behind him, Wrex arrived at a small tavern, sitting on a 10 way fork. A few carriages were parked to the side of the building, along with some horses tied around a tree. Wrex began to think, wondering whether or not this was a common trade route. A carriage back to Dracnor would definitely help speed up the journey.

Opening the creaky wooden door, Wrex walked into the tavern, named "The Heavy Traveler." Within it were folks who did not look the likes of traders, but a few of the patrons did. Many had sacks with them, a few had crying children. Some were soldiers, by the look of them. Wrex knew something was up if soldiers would be part of a group like this.

Wrex walked to the counter, looking at all the others who were looking back at him. He could hear whispers among the other patrons, whispers like "What is a dragonborn doing this far from Dracnor?" and "If a dragonborn is here, it must be bad!" He had no clue that anything was going on. Wrex could only assume that some massive beast had attacked a town and those around him were refugees, assuming that a dragonborn was brought in to kill whatever destroyed the town.

When Wrex sat down, the barkeep walked over to the bar across from him. "Why are you here?" The barkeep asked, leaning over the bar, inspecting Wrex carefully. "I was in Solvain hunting a telepanther. It struck me, and next thing I know, we are fighting on Mount Haumond in the beginning of the night." Wrex spoke, many of the humans looking at him with great intrigue.