A Drow on the Streets of Havenbrook - Part 1/2

As the sun began its descent, casting an amber glow upon the horizon, Rezp made his way back towards the small village of Havenbrook, after burying the evidence of his murder of the adulterous minstrel. The narrow streets were bustling with activity, the townsfolk going about winding down their daily routines and preparing for the evening's arrival. The quaint buildings, crafted from sturdy stone and timber, lined the streets, their facades adorned with craftsmanship and wooden signs.

Rezp, with his hood drawn low, navigated through the lively scene with purpose. The clatter of hooves echoed in the distance as horses passed by, transporting goods and villagers alike. Merchants displayed their wares on stalls, enticing passersby with vibrant fabrics, gleaming trinkets, and fragrant herbs in the hopes to milk just a little bit more business. Other merchants were starting to set up shop, their ventures more akin to the nocturnal parts of the day.

As Rezp made his way deeper into the heart of the village, he could feel the lingering stares and whispers directed his way. Being a drow on the surface was no easy feat, and discrimination seeped into every corner of society. His skin, the 18% grey that marked him as different, drew unwarranted attention and mistrust, even when he had conducted legitimate business.

Glancing around, Rezp spotted the modest pawnshop, its sign swinging gently in the evening breeze. He approached cautiously, aware of the prejudices that awaited him within. The interior of the shop was dimly lit, shelves lined with a mishmash of items, from tarnished silverware to worn-out trinkets.

The shopkeeper, a stout man with graying hair and a suspicious gaze, eyed Rezp as he entered. Rezp carefully laid out the stolen goods he had acquired from Cedric's camp, an array of exquisite jewelry, a lute, and other valuables that had once belonged to the minstrel.

As the shopkeeper appraised the items, a glint of recognition mixed with prejudice flickered in his eyes. Rezp knew all too well that the worth of the items would be diminished simply due to his drow heritage. The transaction concluded with a meager sum, far less than the true value of the stolen treasures. It was an injustice that he had grown accustomed to, a reminder of the challenges he faced on the surface. Fortunately he received a better reception of respect from the nobleman that hired him to dispatch of the minstrel. In truth, it wasn't because the man enjoyed dealing with a drow, but that his revenge got what it wanted.

Leaving the pawnshop, Rezp continued through the bustling streets of Havenbrook. People strolled along, their voices merging into a symphony of conversation, laughter, and the occasional street performer's melody. The village came alive, in a different way, as evening approached, the flickering glow of lanterns casting a warm and inviting ambiance.

Despite the discrimination and the paltry payment received, Rezp held his head high. He had completed his mission, avenging the nobleman's daughter and ensuring that Cedric would harm no one else. As he disappeared into the evening crowd, a glimmer of determination shone in his obsidian eyes, his resolve unyielding in the face of a world that refused to see his worth.

As Rezp strolled through the bustling streets of Havenbrook on route to the tavern to get himself a well-earned meal and drink, his eyes were momentarily drawn to an intriguing sight. A small gnome man and a captivating elven woman engaged in conversation, their presence commanding attention amidst the crowd.