Wah Tirion

As Elodar walks through the gates of Wah Tirion, he ignores the greeting of the Gatesman and continues straight to the Inn for some food and rest.
He walks through the street, looking at his feet so nobody recognizes his face, and continues to the Inn, ignoring anyone's attempt to try and start a conversation with him, a conversation that Elodar has no interest in.
He reaches the Tavern and looks at the sign, a donkey with a drunken man on it's back, this was the Inn of the Drunken Donkey, he was in the right place. He chuckles to himself and swings the door open, before feeling the warmth of the roasting fire and the sounds of the bard's flute and drunken singing.
He walks inside, pushing a man who is so drunk he can barely stand out of his way, heading straight to the bar.

Elodar: Dwarven Mead, if you would.

Elodar throws a few coins on the table, which are collected by the Bartender.

Bartender: You from around these parts, Mr?

Elodar: Darel, just Darel.

Bartender: Well, is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Darel?

The Bartender passes Elodar a flagon of Dwarven Mead, which he takes by the hand as it slides across the table.

Elodar: Hmm, do you have any herb bread? And I shall also need a room for the night.

Bartender: In terms with the herb bread, I shall see what I can do. Your bedroom is right there.

The Bartender points to a door to the right of the bar.

Elodar: Thanks, I shall just go and place my bags down and I shall be with you in one moment, good sir.

Elodar gets up from his stool and takes his pack into the room, placing beside his bed and unstrapping his sword and knife, which he cleaned after the scrap with the Bounty Hunters. He takes off his cloak and sits it down beside his bow and sword, revealing his dark hair, which he dyed to make sure he wans't recognized. He walks back to the bar and sits back down, where his mead and herb bread are waiting for him.
Elodar nods to the Bartender as a thanks, and leaves a pouch of coins on the table, before beginning to eat his meal.

Elodar is sat by the warm fire in the Drunken Donkey, warming his hands after a cold night out hunting for the Innkeeper, who was running low on food. He blows onto his hands and continues to warm them, before getting up and grabbing his flagon of mead off of the table he was sat at.
As he leans on a support for the roof, he watched as the door slowly creaked open, readying his blade. A man enters and looks around. He seems confused, drunk and unaware.
Elodar chuckles and dismisses him as a drunk, before taking a sip of his mead and thinking.

Elodar: I need an army, but where can I start one?

Elodar's eyes brighten as he remembers.

Elodar: Do'sherran! I can do it at Do'sherran!

Elodar quickly begins to pack up his things and leaves, heading to Do'sherran to begin his preparations, and learn how to wage a war.