A picturesque and pink autumn sunset behind them, a batch of caravans roll slowly past a cluster of buildings.  They come from places as far as Waterdeep, all traveling east and coming together as the skies darken and the roads become too dangerous.  Noah’s Mill sits beside the Uldoon Trail, on a low rise overlooking the town of Greenest, half of a mile further east.  Whether or not this place was ever a true mill, today the small water wheel attached to the building is cosmetic only.  It is an orchard, an eatery, and a tavern.  Its proprietor is Aaric Felcorin, a wizened old gnome, who is presently weaving between the wheels and oxen on the trail.  White apron protecting his professional-looking blue suit, he offers mugs of apple juice to travelers, 'fresh from the tree, to the press, to your thirsty gullets.'  He hopes to lure a few inside to spend their coin tonight with him, instead of at the inns and cafes in town.

This is a popular stopping place with the travelers and caravans who approach Greenest.  The town of Greenest was founded by the halfling Dharva Scatterheart in ages past, a rogue who fancied herself the queen of the Greenfields. Scatterheart passed away without ever achieving that level of eminence, but over the centuries her town grew into a thriving community. Its success isn’t surprising, since Greenest is the only town of any size astride the Uldoon Trail, the most direct road between the eastern cities of the Dragon Coast, Cormyr, and Sembia with the Coast Way running south to the great cities of Amn, Tethyr, and far Calimshan. The trade caravans that pass through Greenest bring gold to the town’s merchants and craftsfolk, and the town provides those caravans with warm, safe beds, wine and cider.

Most of the wagons continue to roll on down the rise toward Greenest, but a handful pull over and stop.  It has been a long day on the trail, and the thought of a deep mug of apple juice is just to too tempting for some to resist.  Somewhere nearby, there is the sound of an axe chopping.  A wind - warm for the season - begins to rise.

Welcome to Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: A Horde of the Dragon Queen Adventure!

Cheddar had been shadowing the wagons for some time and eventually snuck onto the wagon, near the back gate and took a catnap. When the wagon comes to a halt, Cheddar immediately wakes, jumps from the wagon, and hides in any place close, fearing the wagon's owner might not take kindly to his little stowaway. 
Once the coast is clear Cheddar will make his way closer to the tavern. Cheddar becomes more at ease when he sees the tavern keeper is someone he can see eye to eye with, literally. 
Stretching to get the kinks out from the road and dusting himself off, absent-mindedly scratching a spot where a flea may or may not be residing, Cheddar makes his way closer to the tavern.
"I have my stowaways too." Cheddar thinks to himself as he flicks a caught flea aside.
"Innkeeper" Cheddar calls out once he gets near the gnome. "Is there a spot on the floor somewhere I could reside for the night?" he asks. "And what are your costs?"

     Finn Ol'Gren lifts the corner of the cards in front of her as little as possible while still being able to double check that they hadn't changed since the last first time she peeked.  She'd been here at Noah's Mill for the better part of three days now, playing almost non-stop.  She'd prefer the place was a little more crowded and with more customers here for a stay rather than just a rest, but she's been able to keep the card game going more or less full time which is about all she could really ask.  The proprietor, Aaric Felcorin, didn't seem particularly pleased about the marathon card game but the players were drinking and eating at least as much as any other customers so, so far, he's not threatened to break it up...

     Finn takes a moment to look over the other players.  They're a motley lot and not a one of them a true card player.  Still, anyone can go on a lucky streak no matter how little they know what they're doing.  Sometimes that seems to aid the luck.  But as they say, the only thing that ends a good guy with luck is a crafty girl with creative morality.  The un-stereotypically happy dwarf across from her has been on quite the lucky streak and Finn Ol'Gren was happy to let it continue.  It encourages others and helps build the size of future pots.  But the pot was already looking quite enticing and Finn was determined to take this one down.

     "I raise," Finn said and moved a stack of silver pieces into the center of the table.  The player on left whistled and folded, as expected.  The next player also mucked their cards and the action moved onto the Dwarf.  They smiled.  Of course they did.  Grrr.  But, also predictably, they picked up their cards and held them close to their chest in order to get a look at them.

     Rookie move, Finn didn't even have to think.  It was just a fact.  Real card players barely ever touch the cards, the more you lift them the more you give others a chance to get a look at them too.  Finn wasn't opposed to stealing a peek at another players cards if they were fool enough to expose them.  Being seated directly across from the Dwarf, however, made it difficult to steal such an glance...  But not impossible.

     As the Dwarf looked at his cards Finn closed her eyes and used the moment to concentrate. Within but a moment she was seeing through another set of eyes and seeing exactly what the happy Dwarf was holding.  As quick as a wink she broke the connection by reopening her own eyes and smiled back at her opponent.  Behind him Misses Binklesworth of the Twilight Binklesworths (Binkles to her friends), a rather non-assuming and generic calico, let loose with a Meow, leapt off the chair she was curled up on, and sauntered towards the other side of the Noah's Tavern.

     Happy the Dwarf gave a sideways glance but wasn't distracted from his purpose.  He starts counting out silver pieces.  He makes a pile to call the raise.  Then he starts building a second pile before committing to anything.  He's gunna re-raise, Finn thinks.  Damn.

     "No need to count, friendo," Finn says with a smile.  "If you got the nut flush just push them all in.  I'll pay you off 'cause the pot is mine unless you got anything but..."  It was a bluff.  A feint.  A lie.  She had three of a kind and was hoping but failed to fill up to a boat. Thanks to Binkles she knew she was beat.  Happy indeed had a flush, but it wasn't a very high flush.  Maybe she could scare him off the pot...  Maybe.

      While the Dwarf considered, Blinksy wandered away to her favorite windowsill where she could warm her butt in the sun.  Personally she found this cheating at cards distasteful but at least the mortal used her sparingly.  Mostly.

     As the pot was raked in and the coins restocked, Finn considered the vagaries of cards... It was about luck.  It was about skill.  It was about reading your opponents, and not being able to be read by them.  It was about shooting the angles and playing the odds.  And once she had all the shiny coins she just won by convincing the Dwarf to fold she picked up her cards to toss them into the muck.

     "You have the king or the queen?" the now grumbling Dwarf asked from across the table, his smile finally gone.

     Ooooooooh, it was always such a tough decision.  Do I show and crush him by showing the bluff?  It can be a good move if you know how to play it.  The Dwarf would likely go on tilt and be stupidly aggressive until he was skint, the others would also not trust anything Finn said or suggested and be more likely to call her down so they can be sure to see the cards.  It means no bluffing for a while but if she plays tight she would likely be able to build huge pots for her winning hands...  But that was a long term strategy, if the table was going to have the same players for hours and hours.  The players her, minus herself. usually only last a couple laps before their caravan is taking off or they decide they're hungry or broke or just need sleep.  And more potential players were already walking in the door, another caravan or two must have arrived. 

     "Just the queen," Finn says, showing the queen of hearts and mucking the cards, leaving it likely that she actually did have a flush instead of another pocket queen.  

     The Dwarf growled and stood up.  It was barely noticeable as he stayed more or less the same height.  "Time to take my winnings and leave while I still have some," he said and started scooping up what coin he had left.

     "Yeah, time for me to cut my losses," another player said and started doing the same.

     "Awww, come on!  It's early yet and the next round is on me!" Finn said eagerly.  

     "With my coin," Grumpy groused though with no real grievance in him.

     "All the more reason you should stay and drink..." But it was obvious he was a lost cause and there was no keeping him at the table.  "Alright, alright.  No hard feelings though, eh?  You can still have a drink on me!" Finn grabbed a silver off her pile and flipped it to the Dwarf who caught it with surprising deftness.  

     "I'll be back tomorrow to win it back, if you're still here," he said with a small return of his former good cheer.

     "I may be, rabbit.  I may be," Finn said with a wink.  She hoped she wouldn't but so far nothing more interesting had walked through the door and enticed her to move on.  What kind of crossroads doesn't have opportunity and intrigue and drama and mischief afoot?  Sure Finn was up a few coins but she was spending them almost as quickly as she earned them.  She wanted more excitement than she's found so far...

As the caravans sway to a stop, Jararaka stands from where she sprawled herself in the back of one of the wagons. She pushes the toppled crates and boxes back in place and tightens all the rope and tarp around the goods, could take these and run now. But that thought is cut short when the sound of metal clanging catches her attention. Waking from a half-asleep state, she is once again reminded of the crude bracelets welded shut around her arm, branded with a string of numbers and the labels of her crime; theft, robbery, attempted murder, guard assault, contraband trade... Yeah, nah. Finishing the last bit of work, she tosses the official caravan guards a few half-assed insults-- which turns into borderline-violent banter. Satisfied after riling up the lawful, she slips away to the tavern with a 'none of my business anymore, my job's done for today!'

The lithe lizardfolk stands at about 6', her posture lazy and hunched. With a long snout lined with sharp, jagged teeth, her appearance resembles that of a crocodile. Uneven spines and tattered frills line her neck and back. Her scales are a dull olive colour, with specks of light green dotting her face and stripes of black and rust on her limbs and tail. She wears a simple tunic top and leather pants. No sign of any other belongings on her person. Gold slit eyes scan the insides of the tavern, Jararaka strolls in and falls into an empty chair, spinning it to face the gnome, "g'day, tavernkeep, I'd like me some of whatever you recommend, and ale with it. M'buddies out there," she points to the caravan guards still working outside, "will cover it."

Moving gracefully through the tavern of Noah’s Mill, Tylaerys quickly found a seat in a corner, putting her mug of apple juice on the small wooden table before her. The drink was quite good and she had permitted herself one final stop on her journey to Greenest to rest her weary feet, but soon she would wander the final stretch, hopefully making contact with the local Harper Agent this evening. She had travelled many weeks now along the Sword Coast, all the way from Waterdeep and she had never been this far south before. Removing the dark green hood of her cloak revealed a stunningly beautiful half-elf, a green barette matching the color of her cloak in her long blonde hair, a crystal hanging from her delicate neck above her fairly low cut white cotton blouse, but most noticable, small silver scales around her right eye and on her right shoulder.

Tylaerys took another sip from her mug, while scanning her surroundings with practiced efficiency, quickly noting a talking and walking cat looking for a place to sleep, a group of cardplayers where a roguish looking woman seemed to be this afternoon's winner, and finally a lithe lizardfolk that was apparently testing the gullibility of the proprietor. It had been quite entertaing in it's way, this long and arduous journey, meeting new faces in each settlement she visited, but she was always careful to get to close to them, her mission was secret after all, but being a fairly talkative person, the secrecy of it all had so far been her true challenge with being a Harper Agent.

(Miss Tsu unleashing her divine energy. Art credit: Yasen Stoilov)

Jenviel Tsumara

A young adult woman with light bronze skin, silver strings of hair and short stature joins the travelling caravan. Her pupils are opaque white and she's dressed in dark blue simple vest, loose pants with decorative pieces of exotic jewelry. Initially, she might seem like a foreigner with turbulent personality, but a quick conversation with the woman reveals that she's just trying to protect herself from the prying eyes of the local people.

During her journey, Jenviel attempts to enjoy the beauty of the new lands... taking deep breath from time to time or letting her hair hang loose to feel the gentle breeze. In fact, she seems disappointed when the caravan stops in front of Noah's Mill, she doesn't get the opportunity to stay outside till the end of sunset.

When the elderly looking gnome offers a mug of apple juice, she accepts it with a slight nod of acknowledgement. She starts to drink from the mug with quick sips silently.

Pick up. Place. Chop. Pick up. Place. Chop…
Pick up. Place. Chop. Pick up. Place. Chop…
Pick up. Place. Chop. Pick up. Place. Chop…
Pick up. Place. Chop.

Wood splits apart and tumbles down on either side of a chopping stump, clattering onto the base a heaping pile of cut lumber. Standing back upright from the final swing, the woman reaches her full height of 6’8”. Wild platinum blonde hair cascades down to her waist from a variety of braids which hold it away from her face in a mohawk style adorned with a mix of feathers and beads crafted from bone. 

Inhaling a fresh breath, Jirel brushes the sweat from her forehead with the back of her wrist. Her chest rises and falls, sheen from the exertion of her full days work of hard physical labour. She takes hold of her water skin, bringing it to her lips for a few gulps before lifting it away to allow the cold refreshing water to pour over her face, running down her neck and shoulders to trickle down the rest of her. When the wind would blow it’d cool her further as she finishes taking a breather.

Honey brown eyes look over the horizon as the caravans begin pulling in. “That’s enough for today.” Jirel hoists her greataxe up onto her shoulder with ease. Muscles ripple and flex beneath ivory skin with every movement, easily hinting at the level of raw strength and dexterity she had gained over the years. Though, her fair skin was not without it’s imperfections. Should one ever look close enough, markings peppered her flesh in all shapes and sizes… one worse than all the others… If her scars could talk, they’d tell a story… They were scars of a warrior… Proof of a survivor… But also much more than that…

Dressed in a mix of custom leathers and natural furs, Jirel sports one piece of quality cloth in a vibrant blood crimson which rests at her waist. She swipes her fur cloak from a nearby boulder, swinging it around and bringing it to rest over her shoulders as she takes her steps towards the establishment.

Jirel Nalakekali 

Reaching one of the caravans, Jirel would pause to offer unloading anything for the tavern. Once verified, she’d take hold of the heftiest of the supplies, lift it with ease from the cart and proceed towards the door. Raising a powerful leg, the woman uses her foot and boots the door open with uncalculated oomph. As the door swings open wide, the tall blonde strides through towards the bar. “Sir Aaric.” She plops the large package onto the counter with a thud that makes some glasses hop. “Where d’ya want it?” There was a hint of an accent in her voice. “And hook me up with some of that apple juice will ya? I’m parched.”  

The common room at Noah's Mill was larger than one might expect from outside.  They maintained only a couple of bedrooms for well-heeled or desperate guests and thus most of the floorspace is devoted the kitchen and dining space.  The decor is somewhere between 'trade road watering hole' and 'quaint country bed and breakfast', with a long bar and dartboards, but also frilly curtains on all of the windows.  The mood is good, though the weariness of most of the travelers is obvious.  There are a lot of stretches, groans, and foot or rump massaging going on at the tables and booths.

Two middle aged halfling women split duties tending bar and serving customers at tables, while an adolescent bugbear clears the dirty mugs and plates.  A chalkboard over the bar lists the days menu:

 Satisfied that he has pulled in all the business he can for the evening, the proprietor steps back inside, removes his apron, and moves from table to table greeting his guests and making sure they are comfortable.  He claps the departing gamblers on the back as Finn's game breaks up.  "See you again tomorrow.  Perhaps we can get back to more civilized games, like Dragonchess, or Bacarat?  Hmmn?"

At Jararaka's request, he offers, "No ale tonight, I fear, but if you try our housemade hard cider, you won't miss that ale, I promise."  He looks at Jararaka, then out to the guards, then back to Jararaka, then shrugs.  "As long as someone pays...."

He then turns to face Cheddar.  "Ah yes, well... menu is up on the board.  Either Jill or Janeese would be happy to serve you.  As to lodgings, rooms are 2gp."  He draws a pair of spectacles from his vest pocket and takes a closer look at his new guest.  "...And I am afraid the barn is presently occupied... Oh, speak of the devil, and there you are, Jeril."  

He hurries over to the Goliath.  "What is that enormous package you have just thumped down upon my counter?"  He adjusts the spectacles again as he looks over the crate.  "Ah!  Brandy!  Jill, a knife, please?" He snaps his fingers and the halfling woman behind the bar slides a knife to him.  He pries up the side of the lid and removes a dark glass stoppered bottle and hold it up to look at its contents against the lamplight.  "Wonderful.  I was wondering when this might come in.  "'Goddard's Famous Apricot Brandy,'" he reads aloud from the label.  "Er... what's that?  Apricot?  Apricot?!  I ordered apple brandy!  I have an apple orchard themed bistro!  What am I to do with twelve bottles of apricot brandy?!"  He continues to grow more distraught, waving the bottle around as he exits back out the front door to question the guards at the wagon.

Inside, most of the crowd is too tired, thirsty, or hungry to pay much attention to the gnome.

Cheddar, hearing the gnomes lament, thinks for a moment then quietly suggests:
"Why not mix it with your apple cider or hard cider and rebrand it as "Apple/Apricot" Brandy or some such other drink. The mixing will extend the life of both and should bring in more coin than they would by themselves." 

     "Apple Apricot Brandy?" Finn muses aloud, as she approaches searching for a fresh drink and her next distraction.  "Perhaps AA Spirits would be catchier?  The drink for when you're not quite ready to give up..."

     Finn smiles at the Tabaxi curious what they think of her rebranding efforts.  She's met a few of the kind before but not many, and mostly back at that school - They'd take anyone and everyone with the least bit of magic about them.  Wonder what this one's thing is, she thought idly.

     "I'll keep the same room tonight," she tells Janeese (or is it Jill?  She's really not sure which is which.). "And a round on me... or at least however many this covers."  Finn puts a large portion of the day's winnings on the bar, easy come easy go, no?  

     "Make sure the scaly one gets a drink," She adds in a more hushed tone.  "I don't think you want to make them angry..."  Finn trails off on her thought as she catches sight of the Goliath and suddenly an angry lizard is the last thing on her mind...

Jararaka doesn't tend to pay much attention to other tavern-goers, none of her business really, but this establishment's got real variety. Makes a lizardfolk like her seem somewhat normal in the mix. Her eyes wander, not particularly subtly, and fix on the giant woman. She flicks her own wrist, feeling that tight bracelet, those muscles look like a good match to this stupid metal.

Her attention drifts back to her own immediate surrounding when the gnome replies, Jararaka shrugs in response, "sure, why not? I'm down for whatever's good."

Jararaka laughs at the white-and-black-haired woman's joke. "Tavernkeep don't look to be in the mood." When the gnome begins to walk furiously toward the caravans, her tail curls mirthfully. She has no eyebrows, but if she did, it would be raised in amusement. She forgets her order and gets up from her seat so she can get a good view of other people finding fault with those guards.

Aaric Felcorin pauses in his diatribe ever so briefly to consider Cheddar and Finn's suggestions.  He waves a finger in the air as if to say, 'lets talk later,' and continues outside to resume his shouting at the confused guards.

A halfling barmaid wanders past where Jenviel and Tylaerys are standing.  "Ay, I'm Janeese.  Kitchen is a mite backed up, but I can freshen up those drinks, or get you something with a little more kick if you like.  Just holler, and I'll come a' running."  She is obviously very busy, but has a friendly demeanor and clear, bright eyes that look younger than the crows feet near her eyes would suggest.  

Jenviel Tsumara

Jenviel gulps down the liquid and rubs her lips with the back of her bandaged arm to remove extra droplets. She has been eagerly watching the jovial group of gamblers with a tight smile, careful not to show too much teeth. She silently observes the heated exchange of words between the proprietor and the goliath, her facial expression reveals uncertainty which might be mistaken as a look of contempt.

"Hello Madame Jha- nish, nice to meet you!" She presses the palms of her hands as a gesture of gratitude while tilting her head forward. "I think all the foods and drinks of this place must be delicious, but I don't want to order everything. I'd like to have a bowl of radish soup, quail and another mug of apple juice. Would you please make sure that the quail is properly cleaned and thoroughly cooked?" She speaks with a soft accent, but some of her words are pronounced in such a way that her proficiency in draconic speech becomes evident. 

Having rested her weary feet for a while, sitting in the corner of the taproom, Tylaerys decided to move over to the bar, hoping to get one of the halfling barmaids' attention to order a Tomato and Goat Cheese Sandwich, her lips curling into a smile as she catches the discussion about Apple Apricot Brandy. "No, nothing more right now." She answers Janeese politely, putting down a backpack and a crossbow beside her, decidiing to wait by the bar, giving the very tall blonde woman beside her a shy smile before taking another sip of her apple juice.

Once Jill had handed Jirel her apple juice, she lifted in thanks and then begun to chug it. As she did, her ears would perk at the mixology suggestions tossed about. Though, it wasn't until the goliath finished downing her drink in one go and brushed her mouth with the back of her hand that she'd really take notice of how busy it was tonight. She'd lift her now empty mug in cheers to the Tabaxi with a dip of her head, and repeating the gesture to the gambling woman. "I'd put my coin to that idea." Jirel would wink. Especially if it's a solution to a problem she could have caused. Did she really read the label right when she picked up the package?

Honey eyes would follow the lizardfolk as she'd get up from her seat to observe the scene unfold with the guards. A small smirk tugged at Jirel's lips. The lizardfolk had her eyes on it. Though, speaking of 'whatever's good', the goliah's stomach would growl. She had plenty worked up an appetite.

With Janeese stopping over at the other two new guests, Jirel couldn't help but grin more as the polite woman mentions 'order everything'. That's exactly what Jirel was planning to do! And maybe seconds... Her stomach rumbles as the soft accented silver woman completes her respectably precise order.

Having been joined by another at the bar, Jirel dips her head in welcome when met with a smile. "Tomato and Goat Cheese, good choice." After a small pause, she'd glance back at her mug and wiggle it before looking back up. Her stomach protests out loud once more causing her cheeks to show warmth. "S'cuse me a moment." The goliath would excuse herself to go help grab extra dishes or ingredients from the top shelves for Jineese and Jill. Of course, she'd grab the extra large dishes, coincidentally providing them at the same time as her order. One of everything.

"Um, yes." Was all Tylaerys said at first as the tall blonde woman commented on her planned order, the half-elf's eyes curiously following her as she started to grab foodstuffs from the different shelves behind the bar. "Um, so can you fix me one of those Tomato and Goat Cheese Sandwiches while you're at it?" She asked the tall blonde woman, a little unsure still if she worked here or just helped herself to quite a lot of food, then noticing the abundance of scars over her muscled arms. This one had seen battle it seemed, a lot of it.

     As it was seeming to be meal time by the orders she overheard around her, Finn Ol'Gren decided it was likely a good idea to eat.  Too often when playing cards it was easy to allow the hours to slip and by and forgetting such common needs in preference for not missing a hand or a read or a tell or an opportunity...

     Lifting one of the pouches tied to her belt Finn judged she still had plenty of coin without even dipping into the gambling stash or the emergency funds, each of which she kept separate and sacrosanct.  "Half rack or lamb for myself," Finn ordered loudly.  "And a round of hard ciders for this table over here!"  Finn indicates a large table which is currently empty but which she immediately starts heading toward.  

     "Anyone thirsty and with half a wit about them is welcome to join me.  I hate eating alone but I detest dullards with nothing to talk about," she announces with a half a laugh and a definite smile. Misses Binklesworth of the Twilight Binklesworths, for her part, sidles over from her spot to the table indicated and finds a spot beneath it from which to keep watch for droppings or offerings.  She knows that when Finn has the money she tends to buy the tastiest of dishes...

Over the commotion with Aaric, not everyone in the tavern hears Finn's offer to buy a round, but enough near to the bar do that Jill has her hands more than full trying to pass mugs of hard cider around.  She smiles wearily at Jeril as she grabs dishes and plates.  "Thanks, dear.  It's been so nice having you around to help.  Put any thought to sticking around for a little while?  The road - oh excuse, me" she cuts herself off as another customer demands her attention.

Janeese waves at Finn.  "It's gonna be a minute on that rack.  I'll have the drinks in just a wee second," she shouts over the din.  Then she looks back to Jenviel.  "Aye, aye, the cook is well seasoned and the quail will be safely prepared."  She points out a flyer tacked to the wall near the bar, indicating that the local governor's health inspector has given this establishment a 14 out of 18 score, resulting in a grade of B+.  "It will be just a moment for the food.  The rush came in just before you arrived.  So sorry about the wait."

Bits of conversation can be overheard as patrons greet one another, share tales from the road and stories from home.  It is mostly the caravan masters and their assistants who have stopped in tonight, sending their guards and porters into town with the wagons and orders to secure stabling and storage for the night.  The folk are in good spirits.  Most had been prepared for the worst, as rumors spoke of dangerous bandit activities on these southern highways, but none of these caravans have encountered anything worse than mundane delays so far along the Uldoon Trail.  They knock on the wood tables superstitiously, and offer toasts to Tymora that their luck continue to hold out.  As Aaric's voice continues to raise outside, one of the caravan men sheepishly rises from his table and heads outside.  A few moments later, the gnome's voice rises again.  "A replacement order?  That is all well and fine, but what does that do for me right now?  And how long will that take?  And will your producers be paying me interest on this money I have given them, only to wait endlessly as the wrong product travels here, then again as word of your incompetence slowly travels back to Baldur's Gate, then once more as - I hope and pray - my correct order is delivered?  I demand to know how I will be made whole for this disaster?!"  The rest of the men at the table share a laugh at the browbeating the poor merchant is receiving outside.  From her new spot near the front windows, Jararaka has a clear view of the angry customer's performance in the street.

Tylaerys glanced over at the roguish looking woman as she offered free drinks to those who would keep her good company. She couldn't recall being called a dullard yet, but she was supposed to keep a low profile, wasn't she? Still, there could be a lot to learn about Greenest and which developments that could be of interest to the Harpers in this region. And it couldn't hurt to try to make some new friends in the area if she was to operate here, she knew the success of the Harper operatives often depended on acquiring competent allies.

"I think I will join the table with the free drinks over there, if you'd care to join us when your finished with...all that." Tylaerys turned and said to the tall blonde woman behind the bar as she continued to seemingly prepare a number of different meals. "And I'm Tylaerys by the way." She said with a wave of her hand and a friendly smile before turning and walking gracefully over to the large table that just was taken by the roguish looking woman.

"Hi, I'm Tylaerys, I think I'll accept your challenge and try to prove myself not being a dullard in exchange for your company." She said as she took a seat opposite the host, dropping her gear by her side. "Say, are you a local? Can you tell me about Greenest? I'm supposed to continue there shortly and I'm visiting for the first time." She continued with a friendly smile.

Jenviel Tsumara

"Do not worry about it, Madame! I'll wait for my order to arrive, it doesn't matter if it's served a bit later than usual." Jenviel will mark the end of the conversation with a quick nod while adjusting her posture so that her back is comfortably pressed against the back-post of a chair. She's not muscular but her naturally lean physique seems capable of providing necessary support to preserve the sanctity of her body and mind in the foreign-lands.

Suddenly she feels something peculiar that is similar to the sensation of being observed. The sensation is not new since she considers the interested gaze of strangers as common incidents. She pretends to inadvertently move her head to spot no one in particular while secretly believing that the particular gesture will send a somatic signal of alerted subconscious mind.