Bang! Bang!… The knock on the inn door broke threw the howling wind like a Dwarven gun shot. A light turned on in the main level of the Deepwater Tavern Inn Menethil Harbor. The warmth of an inn would be the dream of any traveler on a night in Wetlands when the southern winds of Dun Morogh, and the breeze off of Baradin Bay clash on the Harbor. The door to the in opened as a middle aged dwarf looked out to see a peculiar sight. A broad shouldered looking man wearing a robe and hood making it impossible to see his face followed by a tall Elvish woman with the whitest hair the innkeeper has ever seen. “Hi, the names Helbrek, passing through, or staying awhile?” The innkeeper questioned as he tried to peer into the man’s hooded face. A tired yet strong voice that pierced Helbrek’s spirit like a knife responded, “Just passing through, we’ll be gone in the morning,” and pulled a few gold coins from his cloak and handed it to the innkeeper. After grabbing the gold with a smile as all Dwarves...
