Nah, it didn’t seem like it was worth the time, Tresh still needed to figure out how it was he got here. In fact, he needed to figure out where he came from. How had he ended up in this tavern exactly? Everything before this was all a blur… in fact, the more he tried to remember his past, the foggier the details became. He couldn’t even put a name or face to his own mother or father, or if he even had parents in the first place. This was… this was…


    Not really worth thinking about. They must not have been very important people if he couldn’t remember them, the problem was that he couldn’t remember anyone. There wasn’t a single person he could remember from his past, no significant events either, hell, Tresh wasn’t even sure how old he was. He knew he was a half-orc, that he liked to fight in front of a crowd and… that was about it. He put a hand to his brow after taking another swig from the tankard, squinting as he tried to recall details about his life.


    Lore Check: Failure


    Try as he might though, he couldn’t muck up any details. He may as well have been born in this tavern… so, would that make Ket his dad? He smiled before shaking his head, leaving a copper coin on the counter. He’d think more about it later on. He then straightened his back, and looked around the tavern once more, trying to find any faces that may look familiar. Most of these people were simple townsfolk, freshly done with fieldwork and looking to ease their back pains with booze. There were a couple people here that stood out though, much like himself.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Sitting over in the pit next to the cobbled fireplace, was a slender elven woman, her long ears poking out of her long blonde hair. She wore a purple mask that left only her eyes visible, matching the silken lavender robe she wore. In her hands she held a book, diligently writing into it with a quill. She had a pretty highborn way of holding herself, back straight and all… what was someone like her doing in a hodunk town like this?


    Tresh then took his eyes off her, finding another notable person, sitting at a table by himself. He was a broad dwarf, with heavy shoulders that held up a suit of intricate plate armor, his square helmet sitting on the table beside a row of empty mugs. His long braided beard was bedazzled by a single, bright red gemstone, which matched the color of the steel axe hanging at his belt. There was someone Tresh could relate to, but with that angered brow and sour look, he doubted that the dwarf wanted company.


    Still, he wanted to talk with them, both looked as if they’d have something interesting to say, maybe they could point him toward a new adventure? Yes, Lenny felt like they needed an adventure, that was the point of wandering wasn’t it? Tresh agreed with the Lenny being, remembering that he’d need to exercise it later. Still, looking between the dwarf and the elf, they both seemed to be getting ready to leave the tavern. The dwarf seemed to be done with his ale, and was merely waiting for his drunkenness to wear off before he left, and the elf woman had a bag packed by her chair… whatever she was doing, she didn’t plan to stay here long.


    So which one should he talk to?