Many moons have passed since Drazdan awoke in this frozen wasteland, at the time he had found himself lying in the snow surrounded by trees. His last memories clearly reminded him of a death he had suffered in a frozen cave alongside his companions. Logically, it made absolutely no sense that he was both alive and outside in a frozen forest, not even a single mountain in sight.

He didn’t know what kind of sick and twisted joke this was, he couldn’t even imagine a reason for his current situation, so he did the only thing he could, he survived. He spent weeks wondering the frozen wasteland trying to find a settlement, foraging whatever food he could, hunting everything he found and camping in makeshift igloos and holes he dug in the snow, cozying up to his trusty campfire.

It had been many years since he was forced to survive in the wild, but his long life had acquired him a lot of experience in various situations as such while it was a difficult task, he still managed to pull through. He did eventually find a settlement, it was thanks to the torchlights and the smoke rising from their chimneys that he managed to spot the town from a hilltop he decided to camp on. Once Drazdan had seen those lights, he pushed himself to get there before the morning came, no matter how tired he was.

In his time living in the Northern city of Fendur, many travellers from further up north came down to trade with so called ‘skis’ strapped to their back. At one point, a young Drazdan grew curious enough to ask about them, and that was when he learned about their usefulness in the North. His past curiosity had been his crowned success these past few weeks, as all those random bits of survival knowledge he gathered were now keeping him alive.

Using the makeshift skis he had carved in the past few weeks, he breezed through the mountainous terrain as he descended towards the town, snowstorm be damned. HE will be sleeping on a proper bed tonight.

Drazdan kept going despite the strong winds, the cold weather that chilled him to the bone, his overgrown fur that had long frozen together, he persisted towards his goal. He just kept sliding down the mountainside, weaving in between the many trees blocking his way. The lights that seemed far progressively grew closer as he made his way towards them.

Inside a tavern somewhere…

“What did you just say?!” a man screamed.

“Are you deaf? I said that your petty change isn’t nearly enough to pay for your food or lodging! Either pay up or GET THE FUCK OUT! We don’t serve BEGGARS!” the bartender yelled.

“YOUR SHITTY ESTABLISHMENT ISN’T EVEN WORTH MY PETTY CHANGE, YOU THIEVING IMP!” the dragonborn warrior yelled at the much smaller individual.

“THEN GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY TAVERN!” the gnome retaliated, refusing to back down before the hulking scaled warrior in front of him.

As the warrior was raising his fist, the doors of the tavern flew open, the cold wind rushing inside and blowing out the candles that lit up the inside. The few lanterns that were still lit outside backlit the individual in the doorway, giving him a mediocre size with almost all of his features hidden. He did however have a pair of something long strapped to his back, the length of these barely fit inside the doorway.

The furious gnome blew his top at the new guest.

“SHUT THE DOOR, MORON! ALL THE HEATS GETTING OUT! DON’T YOU KNOW HOW EXPENSIVE FIREWOOD IS?!” he yelled from behind the counter.

The figure in the doorway slowly walked in, seeming unthreatened by the gnome, eventually turning around towards the door and slowly closing them. A man from the far end of the dining hall got up with a lantern and began lighting all the extinguished candles, grumbling to himself unintelligibly.

The dragonborn was still solely focused on the gnome, not even noticing that the figure had walked up next to him by the bar.

“So what will it be, IMP? Either you get me some food or you become it!” he said menacingly.

Before the gnome could answer him, the figure sat down at the bar and put down two silver coins.

“A hot soup and a drink please.” the man said.

The furious dragonborn now noticing him, he turned his head at the man covered in pelts, skins and still covered in snow, he began inspecting him. Seeing as the man seemed unarmed, he judged it to be fine to threaten him too.

“Excuse me little man but WE were already having a conversation so why don’t you wait your turn before you turn into another corpse frozen in this wasteland?!” the dragonborn said.

The man didn’t even bother to look at the warrior, the dragonborn thinking he had succeeded in his intimidation turned back towards where the gnome used to be. But saw that the gnome was coming back with a hot soup and mead to offer the traveller. The dragonborn was stunned for a few seconds as he watched the traveller slowly slurp up his soup.

That was it, that was the final straw, he was burning this place to the ground, he began to inhale deeply preparing a breath attack loaded with the power of lighting. Just as he was about to release it on the unwitting stranger, he felt a sharp, cold pain cutting into his neck.

As he looked down, he could see a curved blade under his chin with a little bit of blood trickling down.

“Settle down, lizard. You are not about to ruin my first warm meal in weeks. I can guarantee that.” the stranger said, his words colder than the snowstorm outside of the tavern, before taking another spoon full of soup.

He was just called a lizard. Him, a mighty dragonborn who wielded the power of lighting! All he could was shake in rage, debating whether to risk a fight against this fast stranger. As he made his decision to fight, a voice spoke up from behind them.

“Settle down Mac. You ain’t winning that fight.” a bard said, sitting comfortably at a table.

“Shut up Jalkass! You don’t know that!” the furious warrior yelled.

“Try me then.” the stranger calmly said, still eating.

“SURE!” the warrior said before punching at the stranger.

Before he even realized it, the stranger had dodged his point black punch and set his utensils down before kicking the warrior in the stomach, knocking him onto the ground.

“That's it?” the stranger asked.

“You’ll pay for that!” the man screamed.

As the stranger unsheathed his curved sword, the bard stepped in between the two men.

“Now, now boys, let’s all calm down and thinking this through.” he said.

“Move Jalkass! I’m killing him!” the dragonborn yelled.

“You just got your ass handed to you by someone half your size, Mac. You have to pick your fights better, buddy.” the bard calmly stated the cold truth.

Seeing this, the stranger sheathed his blade and sat back down at the bar and took a swig from his mug full of mead.