He had taken an empty table in the little tavern in Drybone, and nobody seemed interested in challenging him for it. Perhaps it was his appearance.
The tall Hyur was clad in a dirty grey vest and dusty leather pants and boots; an instrument case hung by a strap from the chair upon which he sat, and his hat was wide of brim and decorated by feathers, which were torn and hung limply. He looked as if he had walked in from a dust storm, grimed with a mix of sand and sweat, but more than sand. The grime itself seemed to glitter, as if bits of glass or crystal had been thrown over him.
He had a tankard of dark ale to his right on the table, and was sniffing while poring over a map. It was of no place in Thanalan, but of the Coerthas Highlands, the region around Dragonhead.
A grimy finger slid down the map's right edge, marking with glittering dust a bit of territory inhabited only by wolves and beaked invaders from the Twelveswood.
The tall Hyur was clad in a dirty grey vest and dusty leather pants and boots; an instrument case hung by a strap from the chair upon which he sat, and his hat was wide of brim and decorated by feathers, which were torn and hung limply. He looked as if he had walked in from a dust storm, grimed with a mix of sand and sweat, but more than sand. The grime itself seemed to glitter, as if bits of glass or crystal had been thrown over him.
He had a tankard of dark ale to his right on the table, and was sniffing while poring over a map. It was of no place in Thanalan, but of the Coerthas Highlands, the region around Dragonhead.
A grimy finger slid down the map's right edge, marking with glittering dust a bit of territory inhabited only by wolves and beaked invaders from the Twelveswood.
"But in the laugh there was another voice. A clearer laugh, an ironic laugh. A laugh which laughs because it chooses not to weep."
![[Image: 3610850.jpg]](http://assets-cloud.enjin.com/users/1266293/pics/original/3610850.jpg)
