It was the year 9:11, the last days of the Cloudreach. The warmer days were ahead, there was no doubt about that.

Duana walked through the crowds along the docks of Llomerryn. This was the first time that her father, a wealthy local merchant, let her walk alone to the local tavern to receive a weekly order. She was more than nervous. She had grown up watching the pirates all her life; she'd seen them curse, spit, fall drunk, using "easy" women shamelessly in the middle of the street.

Her father had protected her from that kind of life as much as he could. It was not the best place to raise a daughter, especially as a single parent, but he made a good profit there, so it never occurred to him to move.

Duana took a deep breath and opened the tavern door. The foul smell of ale, sweat, vomit and cheap tobacco swept her and she coughed a little. At that very instant, all eyes turned towards her.

She swallowed hard and walked slowly towards the bar.

"I'm sorry, love. I think this isn't a place for you," said the bartender with a hint of Antivan accent.

"Are you Salvail?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, I am. How may I help you?" He smiled and looked at this young dark haired girl with big dark green eyes. She looked clearly confused and out of her depth.

"I am Duana. Macrath's daughter."

"Oh! Nice to meet you, young lady. I take it you're here for the list?" She nodded. "Then I'll be right back."

She watched him go to the back room. She had never been to a tavern before, so she was fascinated by all the details: carvings on a wall, little barrels full of all kinds of ale, even stained glasses. She got so distracted that she didn't notice the footsteps behind her.

She felt a hand on her waist. A man turned her around to face him.

"Well, well... You new here?"

She didn't know what to say. She noticed a tattoo on his arm – a Raiders mark. She looked at him. He was not young, and his face was full of scars. She tried to step back, but he gripped her even firmer.

The man caressed her cheek and she winced. "Oh! An unplucked flower?" he smiled wickedly.

"Please, sir..."

"'Sir'! Hah!" he turned to his friends, who were sitting at the corner table. "Did ya hear that, mates? She called me a sir!" Roaring laughter filled the tavern. The man turned to her again and his hand slowly glided down her sides. She gasped. "Oh, aren't you a shy one? I think it's time to pluck you up, eh?" he grinned and winked. She felt his bad breath on her face and turned her head aside and grimaced.

Suddenly, a blade shone against his throat.

"Problem, Martin?" the person who held the blade whispered in the man's ear.

"Uh..no. Not at all."

"Then let go of her."

Martin withdrew his hands, but then pushed the girl and she fell to the floor. The one with the blade slapped Martin with the back of his free hand so hard that Martin's head turned. Martin touched his cheek and raised his hands in surrender.

"Go. Now," the person said.

Duana looked at the one who had saved her.

"You should have been more careful, lady." he said while he dried his chin with a clean cloth that was over his shoulder. It looked like he'd been caught in the middle of shaving.

It was an elf... or a man. She wasn't sure. He was not as any elf she'd seen before. He was not lanky, but very muscular, like a human. His skin vas very dark; dark greyish, black almost. His hair was long, white, waist long. His ears were elvish, but not as elongated as those of other elves.

He looked at her. His bright yellowish eyes pierced into her soul. The blade that he'd held in his hand had been swiftly put away. He was shirtless and she could notice his amazing physique. A few drops of water rolled down his torso.

"W-who... what... who are you?" she managed to ask.

"I am just passing by, fair lady. I'm from a far away land." He approached her and helped her get back on her feet.

"But... what are you?"

"If you're asking about my heritage, I am half Drow, half man." he smiled. "At your service, dear lady." He bowed.

"I... I am not a lady. I am just a commoner, a merchant's daughter," she said, while she checked if there was any dirt on her dress. "M-my name is Duana." She faced him and extended her hand.

"Very nice to meet you, lady Duana," he said with a sly smile, looking at her hand, and he bowed again.

She frowned and withdrew her hand. "And... Your name?" She was sounding silly, she knew that.

"My name is not of importance really."

"Please..." she swallowed hard. "I...you just rescued me. Can't I at least know your name?"

He frowned. "Very well. My name might sound strange to you. It's Uhlsdar Baenund."

"Ul..-"

"Uhlsdar." he corrected her.

"Oh... OK. I'm not sure I'd remember that," she giggled. Her eyes sparkled.

"I don't see why you should." He was not amused.

She saw that. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

"Here!" the bartender interrupted them. "The list. I expect the order to be here... tomorrow?"

She nodded, taking the piece of paper. "Yes, tomorrow afternoon." She looked at Uhlsdar again.

"You should go now, Duana. Go back to your father," he said in a cold voice.

No more words came out of her lips.

But before leaving the tavern, she glanced at him one more time.

~SPECIAL THANKS to my betas- Graymalkyn and Eynla~