After the Monastery, before Barovia.

Just over 2 months after leaving the monastery I settled into a habit. There was an inn on the outskirts of Ravenspeak, The Ivory Deer Inn, which was cheap for board, food and drink, designed for travellers. I would spend all day sitting with a drink in the main part of the bar, challenging anyone who walked into the bar to a fist fight. 1sp bet.
 
Many people took me up on the offer. I was a small half-elf girl who didn't look like she could do much damage to you. Travellers are often cocky so sometimes I would win even more than 1sp. the biggest bet someone ever made me was 10gp.
 
Of course, I used the technique I learned at the monastery to win in the fight every time. Not a single person stood a chance.
 
You would think that they would have learned, but the inn attracting travellers means that I got at least one new person every day.
 
Even though it sometimes got bloody the barkeep didn't mind. He knew the money I earned would be funnelled back into his bar. And when blood was spilled I was always kind enough to mop it up for him.
 
When I wasn't fighting I would usually be drinking at the bar. I'll admit it wasn't the healthiest coping mechanism. But it was the one I adopted.
 
One day a half-elf man came into the tavern looking for a room. He looked the hunting type, a longbow on his back, and that sort of ruggedness that comes with spending too much time in the woods. I challenged to a fist fight but he refused. That's when I noticed the Dumont family sword on his hip. I demanded he handed it over, as it was rightfully mine.
 
He got angry, exclaimed it was his and accused me of being a swindler. He looked at mother's necklace and demanded I give it to him since it was his. Naturally I refused. I was getting heated about it, why was this man lying about being a Dumont?
 
I think it clicked for me seconds before it did for him.
 
This rugged hunter in front of me was Elias Dumont. My brother. I had spent 10 years waiting for him to come and get me. I had written off ever seeing him again 5 years ago. And yet here he was, in front of me.
 
'Elias?' I spoke first. His whole demeanour changed.
 
It was not the cheery reunion I was hoping for. It was actually a little awkward. We talked for the rest of that night. Only briefly about our separate histories, the rest was small talk. I knew, when we went to bed that evening, that I would never be leaving my brother's side again. If we split off it would be his choice and I would respect that.
 
But for now, I was no longer alone.