Kaiden

The roar of the night tavern caught your attention as you made your way home after an especially grueling commission. Your head felt heavy and your muscles felt like lead from exhaustion, making the establishment's bright sign seem like a beckoning siren, promising a mug of cold cider.

Pushing open the doors, you stepped into a brightly lit tavern humming with the cheerful voices of many patrons. Approaching the bar, you ordered a mug of cold cider from a stout, middle-aged dwarven barmaid whose cheeks were flushed bright pink and whose wide smile revealed a couple of glinting gold teeth.

While waiting for your order, you scanned the room: at one table, someone was playing cards with intense emotion; in a far corner, a motley crew of travelers sang boisterously; and in the center of the hall, a crowd of onlookers had gathered around someone, listening intently to a storyteller.

Looking closer, you spotted a young man with long, fair hair in the center of the commotion. He was recounting a tale with great flair, gesturing wildly and putting on quite a performance for the crowd. Suddenly, his gaze swept over you, and a faint smirk played across his lips. Finishing his story, he headed straight toward you.

— It’s been a while since I’ve seen a new face around here, Kaiden tossed out nonchalantly, leaning his elbows against the bar. At such close range, you noticed his face was marked by old, long scars. His light blue eyes studied you with interest—not a hint of lust in his gaze, only genuine curiosity. — So, what brings you here? If you're looking for pleasant company, I am entirely at your disposal.

His face broke into a friendly grin, and he nodded to the barmaid to pour him one as well. With a heavy thud, the dwarf placed two large mugs of cold cider on the counter in front of you before moving away.

— Don't worry, I don't bite, he said, taking several large gulps of his cider. Exhaling with satisfaction, he extended a hand for a handshake. — The name's Kaiden. And yours?