A small, stout dwarf steps out of the medico and shields his eyes from the sun, as it was the first time he had seen daylight for quite a while. He had been quite sick in the past weeks, and had to leave the wilderness of Gobiath, and return to the mainland to receive help. The sun seemed brighter than ever.
"God dammit. . ."
He wasn't wearing much, only pants, his shoes, and a dirty brown robe covering his body. He lifts up his arm to muffle his cough, and painfully walks towards the docks.
"Do ye' have room for another?", the dwarf asks the sailor. The sailor peers down the dwarf, and without asking for silver nods his head and allows this poor dwarf onto the ship.
After weeks at sea the dwarf spotted a lighthouse, and smiled to himself. He was. . . home. At last.
Upon leaving the sailor asked the dwarf for his name. He replied, "The name is Rinal. Rinal Kilhig, and this be my home."
An Old Friend
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