Grim was sitting at the bar with a large mug of mead. He had escorted a trader here in exchange for a rather modest reward and didn’t really know what to do next. Nothing much seemed to be going on here so he should probably move on. His dog lay at his feet, in public places like this he always stayed close to Grim. Then a beautiful woman walked up to the bar; it was obviously an elf. The old stories among the Hercynians always only had good to say about them so he was always intrigued the rare moments he saw one. He wondered how old she was, did her hair turn silver from age but not her face? Some said elfs where immortal others said the just lived very long.<br/>As he looked at her she suddenly draw an arrow; startled Grim gripped the hilt of his sword and drew it. Sword in hand he realized that the elf didn’t aim at him but to the side of him and he saw a soft farmer boy backing away putting away a knife after she spoke to him. She was surely skilled with that bow, she could surely have shot him before he could have responded.<br/><br/>“Why do you come at me with a knife boy”; Grim said with a deep and stern voice. But as the elf-woman moved towards him and spoke to him he lost interest in the boy. “Do you read minds as well”; Grim said with a big grin. “I’m always looking for honour and gold. Thanks for watching my back. Do want a mug of mead?”.<br/>