Overall, it hasn't been one of your better days. The three day sail to halfling island of Eirebaum was rough, and by the time you had found your sea legs, you were making landfall, and now the lack of a steady rocking motion on a body that has gotten used to ship life is a bit dizzying. The inns for tall folk hadn't seemed to be made with tall folk in mind, and though pretty big by halfling standards, you still have to stoop a bit when going under doorways. You were drawn to this island by the promise of the Spear of Cu Chulainn, a weapon belonging to an ancient hero that is supposedly hidden somewhere in the jungles of Eirebaum's uncivilized eastern half. It was when you were looking around for a guide, that things went awry. Perhaps it was a case of unfortunate cultural misunderstanding.
The sword pointed at your throat isn't a particularly well made one, but it's plenty sharp enough to hurt. The human holding it sneers at you.
"Money or your life, guvna. What'll it be?"