A tall wood elf sits next to you, ordering a glass of wine. He catches you staring and smiles slightly, "Querz Leafdancer," he nods. You give him your name in return, and he nods again. The wine is placed in front of the elf, and he sips it gingerly. Half smiling he turns back to you and soon you are engaged in conversation.
"I am a renegade from Woodland hall," he begins, brushing his hair from his cheek to expose the scar of exile, "I was given shelter by an old assassin, who taught me the trade," he looks down wistfully.
"What happened?" you seem compelled to ask.
"He was killed on a mission," the elf replies, "I took his position as the thieves guilds assassin. I have worked under the pay of individuals also, but most of my work comes from the guild."
"I see," you say, "Are you good at your trade."
"Would I still be alive if I wasn't?" Querz replies, sipping his wine.
"But dont elves cherish life?" You start to get more confidence talking to the elf.
"Aye, but I am now as much elf as you, friend," he says, "Remember that I have been exiled from all elven life."
"Right," you mutter, looking at his dual scimitars, hanging from his side. You look up, seeing a wickedly curved dagger on his belt, and a hunting bow and quiver on his back. He is armed to the teeth, and does not share the elven love for life. Suddenly you shrink, hunching over your drink. He looks at you, raising and eyebrow.
"I should take my leave," he says solemnly, "Farewell."
"Farewell, friend," you raise your head. He smiles at you, and turns, heading out the door, making no sound of his passing...