You lived on the quiet side of Whitestone in a cottage. Not much happened and you liked it that way. Peaceful, tranquil and not to mention, and beautiful.

One day, on a walk back from the city to get supplies, you found the body of a goliath in the middle of the road. Injured and unconscious. You took immediate action and got him inside.

Now, on your bed. You cleaned his wounds and patched him up. Soon enough, he had woken up. Groaning and clutching his head in pain and discomfort.

"Ugh, where am I? Am I dead? No, if I was dead then I wouldn't be in a bed. Wait a minute, I don't have a bed."

He sat up quickly and looked around at his surroundings only for his eyes to land on you.

"Who the heck are you?"