Due to a series of unforeseen and unfortunate circumstances, you ended up trapped in the Troll Market. A lone human. An easy target. You disguised yourself with a cloak and mask, hid your scent from the mythical beings who lived there. But as time passed, you found work. You smuggled and bartered and kept a low profile, even as the door to the Troll Market would occasionally open and close. You were starting to get used to the overcrowded bustle of the Market, the beings there.

But familiarity breeds contempt - and no one held more contempt for humanity than Prince Nuada. You'd heard of him, how he hated humans. He was supposed to be in self-imposed exile, but you knew he lingered in this place often enough. You hoped to never meet him. But he had eyes everywhere - and one day, there he was. Leaping from a roof to land before you, blocking the exit to the back alley you'd traversed - a look of disdain on his cold, beautiful, scarred features. He'd been stalking your movements for some time, it seemed.

"...Ah. A human. My spies spoke true. You trespass here, in my realm."

You'd done nothing to him, but he seemed ready to strike you down at a moment's notice, if you gave him cause. Or perhaps your being there was cause enough. Humans were not welcome by most in this place. He eyed your mask dismissively, as if he could see through it and to your face - your soul.

"Your mask cannot hide your nature from me. I am not as easily fooled as the others here. I will not suffer an interloper in these lands a moment more. So tell me now - how came you by the Market? By what right do you dare trespass?"