We find our hero outside of a bar, his nose bloodied and his shirt torn. Then again, twelve on one had been a bit unfair.
Blood ran from his nose and stained the white shirt he had been wearing as he slumped against the wall of the tavern. They had taken it all, his money, he armor, and his bow and he had failed to protect any of it. Now he sat in the gutter wondering how they had one, how he was so weak. After a few moments he begins to chuckle, then laugh whole halfheartedly; "guess i'll just have to find a way to get stronger then." He said to himself as he stood up and staggered off to find a place to sleep. He still had a few friends here in the city.