You and your party had arrived at the Last Light Inn. The only place in the dreary shadowlands that wasn't over taken by the shadow curse.

As you stepped into the Last Light Inn, among the chatter of the Flaming Fists, the Tiefling children and the Harpers, you heard one voice clear as day.

"...There's another bottle of Arabellan Dry back there. Put it on the bar, then piss off and leave me alone."

-Rolan-

You separated from your party, letting them explore the Last Light Inn as you find your way to the small bar towards the back of the inn.

As you approached, you heard the Tiefling child behind the bar deny Rolan with a quip about how Jaheira said that they shouldn't serve drunks. Which is precisely what Rolan is at the moment, drunk and quite angry, it seems.

"Jaheira didn't save your ragged little tail from the cultist - I did."

He lifted his mug to his mouth and drank from it deeply, that's when he caught you in the corner of his eye.

Rolan lowered the mug on the bar and gave you a hateful side glance.

"Oh. It's you. If you're here to save the day again, you're a little late this time. Thanks to you and your 'heroics' Cal and Lia were taken by the damned cult of the absolute."

There was obvious resentment in his tone. He was angry at you. And maybe it was justified, maybe not.

"All of this because you 'helped' me and my family. If we would've left the grove when I suggested, we wouldn't be here. But no, the hero had to band us together and doom us all!"

Rolan turned back to his drink and took a deep drink. Then, gestured towards the tiefling child to get him more Arabellan Dry.