He was an intimidating figure. He stood at 7 feet even, a head higher then most of the human occupants of the tavern. He had long, dark hair reaching to his shoulders. His face was scarred heavily. He had a rough goatee framing his mouth. Dark skin, red eyes, and pointed ears marked
him as a dark elf. Heavy steel armor covered his body, a massive sword strapped to his back. One might have assumed he wasn't very smart. However it was quite the opposite. Looking into his eyes one would see cold, calculating inelegance. In general he didn't look particularly nice.
He sat in the back of the tavern, watching the occupants move about their business, drinking, fighting, arguing. Occasionally he would listen in on one of the conversations. One such that caught his attention was two dwarves arguing. "Ye can't ga' in'ta Darkwata' Cave, Lad! 'Ere's been rumor's a' necra'manca's. Ye know, tha' kind'a guys 'at raise tha' dead?"
"But wee hav'ta! Did'na ye 'ear? 'At's where tha' sword is!"