The man stood, leaning against the wall of the tavern, flask of beer in his hand. Several villagers surrounded his, telling each other of the man's exploits.

"He took down the bandit leader, Twin Blade! He must be extraordinarily strong or lucky."

"Wasn't he the one who brought the traders to Oakvale? All the way through Darkwood?"

"Yeah and he even had to defeat a troll to get them through alive!"

"He'll be a fighter for the arena, that's for sure."

With all the talking going on no one noticed that the man never spoke. Never interrupted to elaborate or correct a lie or create one himself. He just smiled tiredly and took another pull from the flagon.

Once finished with his numbing drink he straightened pushing off from the wall. The villagers, taking in his drooping shoulders and darkly lined eyes scrambled to get out of his way. Setting his empty flask on a table he climbed the stairs to the warm, inviting beds. Choosing the one farthest from the stairwell he sat heavily, with a sigh. He removed his armor and collapsed onto his back. Quickly he fell to exhaustion and slept deeply.

In the tavern

"Daddy. Daddy." A young girl pulled at her slightly drunk father's sleeve. She was sent by her mother to bring the man home and was able to see the well-known Ranger. "Why didn't that man say anything, even when someone asked him something, he didn't say anything!"

The man looked blearily at his child. "He didn't, did he? Don' know why. Oi! Christian you know anything 'bout Ranger?" He yelled to the bard.

"Why in fact I do, good sir, but to hear my tale-"

"Yeah yeah, I know. 10 gold, here." he tossed a few coins to the singer. "Just don't sing it alrigh'?"

"Fine." He said annoyed. "Ranger, actually grew up in the town of Oakvale. And he lived through the Oakvale massacre, his family wasn't so lucky. They say he even saw his father's dead body before being saved from death at the hands of a bandit by Maze.

"Well, you can imagine the shock that would have been, to have lost his family and his home in one night. Ever since that day, he hasn't spoken a word. It's thought that shock has rendered him a mute."

When the bard finished his impromptu speech silence descended upon the normally cheery tavern. Upstairs the hero turned over in his sleep. Someone murmured "Poor boy." several others nodded their agreement. The girl was finally able to pull her father away from the table and slowly the night resumed it's happy undertones, though not as obvious as it was before.\

The sun rose on Bowerstone, leaking through the windows of its dwellings. It shown brightly on the face of one hero, waking him. With a muffled groan he sat up and rubbed his face. Ranger swung his legs off the bed, reached down and grabbed his trousers. He quickly got dressed and made the bed. He descended the stairs and placed a small stack of gold on the counter that covered his night's stay and his drinks.

With a smile and a nod he left, heading towards the teleporting pad. To the Guild and to yet another assignment where he would be placed in a life threatening situation. Never once would he complain about this life that he now leads.