It is the 5th day of the second tenday of Tarsakh. You, and other 4 members of Gundren Rockseer's newly founded escort party have been asked to meet at Driftwood Tavern, in Neverwinter's Protector's Enclave, where your patron left a wagon with supplies. Gundren paid for a night's worth of expenses at the tavern (food, drink, and bed) and mentioned that Madame Rosene, owner of the tavern, has a list of names and descriptions of the members of the group. Shall you be the first one to arrive, you can ask her for the piece of parchment and welcome your colleagues as they arrive. She will also give you a piece of map pointing Phandalin's location.
Driftwood Tavern is a two-story spacious building, with a heart-warming fireplace lit 24 bells a day, ten days a week. The first floor serves as tavern, with a sturdy wooden bar for customers willing to eat or drink solo, and a dozen tables capable of accomodating 6 people at a time. Catering to a rather richer clientele, you can't keep but wonder what kind business Gundren runs that allows him to pay for such a luxury. The second floor contains a 10 rooms, 3 of them ample enough to fit a group of five. Not knowing too much about you, Gundren paid for 5 individual rooms, not wanting to assume you folks would be willing to share one room. Ale and wine in Driftwood are of very good quality; Gundren himself recommended you trying some, with measure, as you have a very important task ahead of you.
You are expected to leave next morning (be on your way by 9th bell), and take the wagon southeast, on a two-day travel along the High Road to the Triboar trail, where you will head east toward the rough-and-tumble settlement of Phandalin. The wagon is not yet at the establishment, but will arrive overnight, and the cadre will find it in the open space behind the taver You will find it packed full of an assortment of mining supplies and food which includes a dozen sacks of flour, several casks of salted pork, two kegs of strong ale, shovels, picks, and crowbars (about a dozen each), and five lanterns with a small barrel of oil (about fifty flasks in volume).
Gundren was clearly excited and more than a little secretive about his reasons for the trip, saying only that he and his brothers had found "something big", and that he'd pay you ten gold pieces each for escorting his supplies safely to Barthen's Provisions, a trading post in Phandalin. He set out ahead of you on horse, along with a human warrior escort named Sildar Hallwinter, claiming there is an "urgent business" he needs to address.
Prologue - Driftwood Tavern
The sun set not long ago, and folks in Neverwinter, both local and foreign, start towards their resting places for the day, be it their home or one of the inns in the city. One of these said establishments, Driftwood Tavern, is starting to see more and more business come in, as travelers start looking for a place to sleep and good nourishment for their somehow empty bellies. Madame Rosene welcomes clients while two Gnome waiters serve food and drinks. Amazing scents come from the kitchen, good music sounds in the back, courtesy of a dexterous half-elf playing the harp, and laughter and conversation fill the voids. With temperature outside quickly going down, people inside are more than happy to fill their stomachs with ale and spend a few seconds close to the fire in the middle of the room.
In one of her already bustling pockets, Madame Rosene has the following things:
List of names and characteristics of the members of Gundren's escort party, written in Common. By looking at the handwritting, you can tell it was written with haste:
Pardo - small, funny looking halfling. Knows how to fight. Wields rapier, interesting choice.
Ebb and Kilxus - male tieflings. Ebb has red eyes and fair skin. Easy to identify. Kilxus carries deadly sickle.
Loraviel, smells of nature, like any damned elf, but much more. Dark-skinned, club can't match a dwarvish warhammer. Bet it packs quite a punch though.
Pardo arrives at the Driftwood. As he expected, he is first. No halfling would turn up his nose at a convivial spot for food, drink, and companionship. It was certainly a far cry from the type of places Pardo was accustomed to with Hiram Baldpate's Travelling Revue of Martial Entertainments. Pardo could still hardly believe that the kindly old dwarf who ran that Company was related to the flamboyant, animated nephew, Gundren Rockseeker, he had met before. Pardo had developed a distinct impression that the younger dwarf was in over his head. Still, even with the old man dead five years, Pardo would do anything for the kin of Hiram.
It was the old man who had taught him that while audiences may believe Pardo to be a joke, he was under no obligation to agree. He had spent 15 years of his life aping the greatest heroes of legend. The Knights in Silver. The Companions of the Hall. And when Pardo had despaired at the laughter of the audiences, it was Hiram who had told him the words that he would live the rest of his life by. "Truebeard, my son," the wizened Dwarf had said, using the nickname that Pardo would only allow from the old man, "you can waste a lot of your life despairing over what you are." "Or,..." the old man continued, "you can figure out WHO you are." And so Pardo did. Even as the crowds had howled as he recreated one of Drizz't's famed charges on a tame pony, he sought out the training and counsel of the experienced champions and heroes who would rotate in to headline the Revue. He sparred with fleet Gnomish swashbucklers, and powerful Half-Orc barbarians. He learned from the most grizzled Dwarven axe-masters.
And now his journey took him to this Tavern. He sought out Madame Rosene for some cheese, ale, and the information left for him by Gundren. His eyebrows lifted in surprise upon seeing two Tieflings among his companions. For an instant, he felt the familiar prejudice against those infernal beings. With shame, he reflected that they, as much as he, could only be responsible for who they chose to be. He was more cheered by the thought of the Elven druid but was surprised and disappointed to see no dwarf on the list.
Bringing the spearmint ale he favored to his lips, Pardo settled down to wait. Who was he? Perhaps he would soon find out.
Kilxus wanders into the Drifrwood, sickle hanging on his belt. He ignores the glances and murmurs that tend to accustom his arrival. With a bright smile he heads to the bar and asks for ale, cheese and bread as he awaits his compainions.
He also askes Madame Rosene for the list of his compainions, but she nods towards a halfling and says that he has already has the list. Thanking her, Kilxus heads towards the halfling to introduce himself, the sly smile never leaving his lips.
Pardo watches the tiefling approach, noticing the sickle hanging menacingly. By habit, he recounts the common counters to a sickle attack in his mind. Don't block the iron. Step inside, and stop the arm. Attack beneath the arm pit.
Ashamed again, he snaps back to reality. He returns the smile, genuinely, he hopes. "Well met, Kilxus! What can Gundren get for you? "
Ebb walks in shortly after Kilxus. He's short, only about 5 foot, wears a flowing black cloak with a hood, and walks with a staff, that's about 3 inches taller than him. As he steps through the door he removes the hood from his head, and you notice that the inner lining of the cloak is all white, a deep contrast to the all black exterior. He walks up to Madame Rosene and exchanges pleasantries. He then asks for some water and the list of his companions. She points him to the other two who had arrived before him. You see him mutter to himself, saying he was hoping to be the first one there.
He goes and joins them. He introduces himself to them and sits down. Once he is seated he removes his cloak, and turns it inside out, making the exterior all white. As he is talking, a small globule of light, about the size of a golfball, appears in his hand. It then begins to move around his hand, and through his fingers. If you look closely at the quarterstaff he set against the table you can tell two things about it. The first is that it appears to be two much shorter staffs welded together using a strip of metal wrapped around the middle. The second is that at the top of the staff, there are a bunch of small notches, about 40 of them.
"I might have, but let me check" Ebb takes the list of characteristics, and reads through it. As he reads through it he looks at Pardo and says, "Pardo, I presume. Just so you know, I don't think you're funny looking." From anyone else that remark would have been incredibly rude, but from Ebb it seems 100% genuine. He reads a little bit more, and nudges Kilxus, "Of course. He had to put the two tieflings into one line, guess we weren't normal enough for our own lines." He winks at Kilxus. He then reads Loraviel's blurb and says, "I might have seen someone matching that description, but I'm not too sure. If I did see them, they were a ways behind me."
"Kind of you to say so, Master Ebb." "I imagine if I'm looking to retain my youthful good looks, I've chosen a poor profession."
Pardo regarded the pale tiefling carefully. Practioner's of the unarmored martial arts were not common, even among his profession. But he had heard enough from itinerant gladiators to know of these monks by reputation. Blindingly fast and cursedly hard to hit. Pardo was well-aware that many said the same of him. But even among his own race, he was an oddity in preferring to handicap his speed somewhat by wearing heavy armor. He was reminded again of the old man's many, many aphorisms. "It is wonderful to be hard to hit. It is better to be even harder to hurt."
The darker tiefling was more mysterious to Pardo. Something in that smile troubled him. As if creature, ..., "my companion", Pardo corrected himself, knew the punchline to a private joke of his devising.
"Perhaps a caster? At least they both look like they can handle themselves ..." the halfling thought, pouring himself another drink.
As he was lost in thought, a Gnomish woman tapped him on the shoulder. "I LOVED YOUR DISREGARD!!!" she bubbled. Pardo nodded politely. He had not performed Sirs Beauregard and Disregard in the years since the old man's death, but there was a time when the act was well-loved throughout the Sword Coast.
With an embarrassed look at his new companions, Pardo waited for the rest of the Company.
"Your disregard?" Ebb asks, hoping for a good story. The light globule that has been going around his hand moves up to his head and begins to orbit around it.
Pardo stood to give an exaggerated bow, knocking his rapier, to the floor. "Pardonnez moi!" he said, bending to pick up the rapier, and knocking the hunk of stinky cheese off the table and onto the point of the rapier that was now in his hand. He picked up his stein of ale, pretended to drop it, and balanced the half-full stein on his foot, the cheese still impaled on the tip of his rapier.
"Quelle, horreur! I've been devilishly clumsy, indeed!"
Pardo ended the impromptu performance, casually flicking the cheese off the tip of his blade and slicing it into three equal portions at the table before leaning back and sliding his ale back on the table.
"I'm Pardo Merrywell. Martial exhibitionist and entertainer by trade. Making the transition to more honest work as ironically hired muscle."
"I don't have many skills to entertain, but Flo here can be a little fun." As Ebb says that, Flo, the light globule, moves from his head to Pardo. It rests on the tip of his rapier, and if Pardo moves the rapier, Flo will stay on the tip.
Pardo's performance didn't go unnoticed. A few customers close to your table start clapping and laughing and an already tipsy human, with luxurious clothes and a slender white moustache, approaches the table and tosses a gold coin towards the halfling. He also exclaims, addressing the owner:
"Days at the city are long, having to listen to complaints and requests. You should have this sort of entertainment more ofter Rosene."
Madame Rosene looks at your table and winks at the halfling. "Well lord Hadrian, you should visit Driftwood more often. This is but part of the common pleasures that you will find here."
A dark skinned elf enters the tavern. The slender body tells that it is female. She is draped in a dark cloak and with the hood up down, one can’t really see her face, except for a set of eyes. Also, one can’t really tell if she’s carrying any weapons at all under the cloak. She looks toward the table and sees the group of a halfling and two tieflings. She cautiously walks to the party. When close to the table she removes the hood. One now can see that she looks like an Wood Elf that literally came out from the woods, but tried her best to hide that fact. “He-hello... Are you Gundren’s party...?” She speaks in a low voice and she clearly looks nervous.
Kazri - Level 10 Human Paladin (Oath of the Ancients) - The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks Droknin Palemane - Level 4 Leonin Barbarian (Path of the Beast) - Where the Cold Winds Blow... A Lost Mines of Phandelver Story Faelan (Cottontail) Whisperwind - Level 3 Ranger (Fey Wanderer) - Zorg's Lost Souls II
"Science is organized knowledge. Wisdom is organized life."
"Madame, as our resident naturalist, is it fair for us to conclude that you have an affinity for beasts and would, therefore, be best suited to drive the cart to Phandalin come morning? I have, some facility myself, but may be better suited to taking a protective position beside the cart."
Loraviel sits down across the table hesitantly. “Just Loraviel, please.” She says to the halfling, and smiles a little. She tries to look at the tieflings, however she is not able to keep eye contact. Haven’t seen such beings before.
After the halfling calls her the resident naturalist, she perks up a little. “Ohh, of course. I do love animals. I would like to be a friend to any animal. I will gladly drive the cart.”
”It is nice to meet you all. How did you know my name? If I may ask?”
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Kazri - Level 10 Human Paladin (Oath of the Ancients) - The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks Droknin Palemane - Level 4 Leonin Barbarian (Path of the Beast) - Where the Cold Winds Blow... A Lost Mines of Phandelver Story Faelan (Cottontail) Whisperwind - Level 3 Ranger (Fey Wanderer) - Zorg's Lost Souls II
"Science is organized knowledge. Wisdom is organized life."
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Background info
It is the 5th day of the second tenday of Tarsakh. You, and other 4 members of Gundren Rockseer's newly founded escort party have been asked to meet at Driftwood Tavern, in Neverwinter's Protector's Enclave, where your patron left a wagon with supplies. Gundren paid for a night's worth of expenses at the tavern (food, drink, and bed) and mentioned that Madame Rosene, owner of the tavern, has a list of names and descriptions of the members of the group. Shall you be the first one to arrive, you can ask her for the piece of parchment and welcome your colleagues as they arrive. She will also give you a piece of map pointing Phandalin's location.
Driftwood Tavern is a two-story spacious building, with a heart-warming fireplace lit 24 bells a day, ten days a week. The first floor serves as tavern, with a sturdy wooden bar for customers willing to eat or drink solo, and a dozen tables capable of accomodating 6 people at a time. Catering to a rather richer clientele, you can't keep but wonder what kind business Gundren runs that allows him to pay for such a luxury. The second floor contains a 10 rooms, 3 of them ample enough to fit a group of five. Not knowing too much about you, Gundren paid for 5 individual rooms, not wanting to assume you folks would be willing to share one room. Ale and wine in Driftwood are of very good quality; Gundren himself recommended you trying some, with measure, as you have a very important task ahead of you.
You are expected to leave next morning (be on your way by 9th bell), and take the wagon southeast, on a two-day travel along the High Road to the Triboar trail, where you will head east toward the rough-and-tumble settlement of Phandalin. The wagon is not yet at the establishment, but will arrive overnight, and the cadre will find it in the open space behind the taver You will find it packed full of an assortment of mining supplies and food which includes a dozen sacks of flour, several casks of salted pork, two kegs of strong ale, shovels, picks, and crowbars (about a dozen each), and five lanterns with a small barrel of oil (about fifty flasks in volume).
Gundren was clearly excited and more than a little secretive about his reasons for the trip, saying only that he and his brothers had found "something big", and that he'd pay you ten gold pieces each for escorting his supplies safely to Barthen's Provisions, a trading post in Phandalin. He set out ahead of you on horse, along with a human warrior escort named Sildar Hallwinter, claiming there is an "urgent business" he needs to address.
Prologue - Driftwood Tavern
The sun set not long ago, and folks in Neverwinter, both local and foreign, start towards their resting places for the day, be it their home or one of the inns in the city. One of these said establishments, Driftwood Tavern, is starting to see more and more business come in, as travelers start looking for a place to sleep and good nourishment for their somehow empty bellies. Madame Rosene welcomes clients while two Gnome waiters serve food and drinks. Amazing scents come from the kitchen, good music sounds in the back, courtesy of a dexterous half-elf playing the harp, and laughter and conversation fill the voids. With temperature outside quickly going down, people inside are more than happy to fill their stomachs with ale and spend a few seconds close to the fire in the middle of the room.
In one of her already bustling pockets, Madame Rosene has the following things:
Map pin-pointing Phandalin's location:
https://drive.google.com/open?id=1e79v-_SETuPnhgRMTBS-pf8YHei6YFFg
List of names and characteristics of the members of Gundren's escort party, written in Common. By looking at the handwritting, you can tell it was written with haste:
Pardo - small, funny looking halfling. Knows how to fight. Wields rapier, interesting choice.
Ebb and Kilxus - male tieflings. Ebb has red eyes and fair skin. Easy to identify. Kilxus carries deadly sickle.
Loraviel, smells of nature, like any damned elf, but much more. Dark-skinned, club can't match a dwarvish warhammer. Bet it packs quite a punch though.
Pardo arrives at the Driftwood. As he expected, he is first. No halfling would turn up his nose at a convivial spot for food, drink, and companionship. It was certainly a far cry from the type of places Pardo was accustomed to with Hiram Baldpate's Travelling Revue of Martial Entertainments. Pardo could still hardly believe that the kindly old dwarf who ran that Company was related to the flamboyant, animated nephew, Gundren Rockseeker, he had met before. Pardo had developed a distinct impression that the younger dwarf was in over his head. Still, even with the old man dead five years, Pardo would do anything for the kin of Hiram.
It was the old man who had taught him that while audiences may believe Pardo to be a joke, he was under no obligation to agree. He had spent 15 years of his life aping the greatest heroes of legend. The Knights in Silver. The Companions of the Hall. And when Pardo had despaired at the laughter of the audiences, it was Hiram who had told him the words that he would live the rest of his life by. "Truebeard, my son," the wizened Dwarf had said, using the nickname that Pardo would only allow from the old man, "you can waste a lot of your life despairing over what you are." "Or,..." the old man continued, "you can figure out WHO you are." And so Pardo did. Even as the crowds had howled as he recreated one of Drizz't's famed charges on a tame pony, he sought out the training and counsel of the experienced champions and heroes who would rotate in to headline the Revue. He sparred with fleet Gnomish swashbucklers, and powerful Half-Orc barbarians. He learned from the most grizzled Dwarven axe-masters.
And now his journey took him to this Tavern. He sought out Madame Rosene for some cheese, ale, and the information left for him by Gundren. His eyebrows lifted in surprise upon seeing two Tieflings among his companions. For an instant, he felt the familiar prejudice against those infernal beings. With shame, he reflected that they, as much as he, could only be responsible for who they chose to be. He was more cheered by the thought of the Elven druid but was surprised and disappointed to see no dwarf on the list.
Bringing the spearmint ale he favored to his lips, Pardo settled down to wait. Who was he? Perhaps he would soon find out.
Kilxus wanders into the Drifrwood, sickle hanging on his belt. He ignores the glances and murmurs that tend to accustom his arrival. With a bright smile he heads to the bar and asks for ale, cheese and bread as he awaits his compainions.
He also askes Madame Rosene for the list of his compainions, but she nods towards a halfling and says that he has already has the list. Thanking her, Kilxus heads towards the halfling to introduce himself, the sly smile never leaving his lips.
Pardo watches the tiefling approach, noticing the sickle hanging menacingly. By habit, he recounts the common counters to a sickle attack in his mind. Don't block the iron. Step inside, and stop the arm. Attack beneath the arm pit.
Ashamed again, he snaps back to reality. He returns the smile, genuinely, he hopes. "Well met, Kilxus! What can Gundren get for you? "
Ebb walks in shortly after Kilxus. He's short, only about 5 foot, wears a flowing black cloak with a hood, and walks with a staff, that's about 3 inches taller than him. As he steps through the door he removes the hood from his head, and you notice that the inner lining of the cloak is all white, a deep contrast to the all black exterior. He walks up to Madame Rosene and exchanges pleasantries. He then asks for some water and the list of his companions. She points him to the other two who had arrived before him. You see him mutter to himself, saying he was hoping to be the first one there.
He goes and joins them. He introduces himself to them and sits down. Once he is seated he removes his cloak, and turns it inside out, making the exterior all white. As he is talking, a small globule of light, about the size of a golfball, appears in his hand. It then begins to move around his hand, and through his fingers. If you look closely at the quarterstaff he set against the table you can tell two things about it. The first is that it appears to be two much shorter staffs welded together using a strip of metal wrapped around the middle. The second is that at the top of the staff, there are a bunch of small notches, about 40 of them.
"Well met Pardo," Kilxus says warmly and holds up his ale, "I'm well set at the moment" and with a glance around asks, "Has anyone else arrived yet?"
Klixus takes a long gulp of ale and sits beside Pardo and offers his hand.
"I might have, but let me check" Ebb takes the list of characteristics, and reads through it. As he reads through it he looks at Pardo and says, "Pardo, I presume. Just so you know, I don't think you're funny looking." From anyone else that remark would have been incredibly rude, but from Ebb it seems 100% genuine. He reads a little bit more, and nudges Kilxus, "Of course. He had to put the two tieflings into one line, guess we weren't normal enough for our own lines." He winks at Kilxus. He then reads Loraviel's blurb and says, "I might have seen someone matching that description, but I'm not too sure. If I did see them, they were a ways behind me."
"Kind of you to say so, Master Ebb." "I imagine if I'm looking to retain my youthful good looks, I've chosen a poor profession."
Pardo regarded the pale tiefling carefully. Practioner's of the unarmored martial arts were not common, even among his profession. But he had heard enough from itinerant gladiators to know of these monks by reputation. Blindingly fast and cursedly hard to hit. Pardo was well-aware that many said the same of him. But even among his own race, he was an oddity in preferring to handicap his speed somewhat by wearing heavy armor. He was reminded again of the old man's many, many aphorisms. "It is wonderful to be hard to hit. It is better to be even harder to hurt."
The darker tiefling was more mysterious to Pardo. Something in that smile troubled him. As if creature, ..., "my companion", Pardo corrected himself, knew the punchline to a private joke of his devising.
"Perhaps a caster? At least they both look like they can handle themselves ..." the halfling thought, pouring himself another drink.
As he was lost in thought, a Gnomish woman tapped him on the shoulder. "I LOVED YOUR DISREGARD!!!" she bubbled. Pardo nodded politely. He had not performed Sirs Beauregard and Disregard in the years since the old man's death, but there was a time when the act was well-loved throughout the Sword Coast.
With an embarrassed look at his new companions, Pardo waited for the rest of the Company.
"Your disregard?" Ebb asks, hoping for a good story. The light globule that has been going around his hand moves up to his head and begins to orbit around it.
"Sir Henri Disregard sur votre service!"
Pardo stood to give an exaggerated bow, knocking his rapier, to the floor. "Pardonnez moi!" he said, bending to pick up the rapier, and knocking the hunk of stinky cheese off the table and onto the point of the rapier that was now in his hand. He picked up his stein of ale, pretended to drop it, and balanced the half-full stein on his foot, the cheese still impaled on the tip of his rapier.
"Quelle, horreur! I've been devilishly clumsy, indeed!"
Pardo ended the impromptu performance, casually flicking the cheese off the tip of his blade and slicing it into three equal portions at the table before leaning back and sliding his ale back on the table.
"I'm Pardo Merrywell. Martial exhibitionist and entertainer by trade. Making the transition to more honest work as ironically hired muscle."
Kilxus smiles at Ebb, "I've never been normal enough for my own line" he says with a sly wink.
Turning to Pardo he says, "But about the Disregard?"
"OK, my friends," Pardo says, "I've shown you mine, time to show me yours."
"I don't have many skills to entertain, but Flo here can be a little fun." As Ebb says that, Flo, the light globule, moves from his head to Pardo. It rests on the tip of his rapier, and if Pardo moves the rapier, Flo will stay on the tip.
Pardo's performance didn't go unnoticed. A few customers close to your table start clapping and laughing and an already tipsy human, with luxurious clothes and a slender white moustache, approaches the table and tosses a gold coin towards the halfling. He also exclaims, addressing the owner:
"Days at the city are long, having to listen to complaints and requests. You should have this sort of entertainment more ofter Rosene."
Madame Rosene looks at your table and winks at the halfling. "Well lord Hadrian, you should visit Driftwood more often. This is but part of the common pleasures that you will find here."
Pardo gestures to the map on the table.
"Think it will play in Phandalin?" "Do either of you, ..., have any reason to know?"
What the hell, Pardo thinks, you weren't hired for your subtlety.
Kilxus smiles, "It'll play in blood and violence," he whispers almost gleefully
A dark skinned elf enters the tavern. The slender body tells that it is female. She is draped in a dark cloak and with the hood
updown, one can’t really see her face, except for a set of eyes. Also, one can’t really tell if she’s carrying any weapons at all under the cloak. She looks toward the table and sees the group of a halfling and two tieflings. She cautiously walks to the party. When close to the table she removes the hood. One now can see that she looks like an Wood Elf that literally came out from the woods, but tried her best to hide that fact. “He-hello... Are you Gundren’s party...?” She speaks in a low voice and she clearly looks nervous.Kazri - Level 10 Human Paladin (Oath of the Ancients) - The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks
Droknin Palemane - Level 4 Leonin Barbarian (Path of the Beast) - Where the Cold Winds Blow... A Lost Mines of Phandelver Story
Faelan (Cottontail) Whisperwind - Level 3 Ranger (Fey Wanderer) - Zorg's Lost Souls II
"Science is organized knowledge. Wisdom is organized life."
"Aye, sit, Sister Loraviel. Pretty sure at least two of the three of us won't bite."
"Madame, as our resident naturalist, is it fair for us to conclude that you have an affinity for beasts and would, therefore, be best suited to drive the cart to Phandalin come morning? I have, some facility myself, but may be better suited to taking a protective position beside the cart."
Loraviel sits down across the table hesitantly. “Just Loraviel, please.” She says to the halfling, and smiles a little. She tries to look at the tieflings, however she is not able to keep eye contact. Haven’t seen such beings before.
After the halfling calls her the resident naturalist, she perks up a little. “Ohh, of course. I do love animals. I would like to be a friend to any animal. I will gladly drive the cart.”
”It is nice to meet you all. How did you know my name? If I may ask?”
Kazri - Level 10 Human Paladin (Oath of the Ancients) - The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks
Droknin Palemane - Level 4 Leonin Barbarian (Path of the Beast) - Where the Cold Winds Blow... A Lost Mines of Phandelver Story
Faelan (Cottontail) Whisperwind - Level 3 Ranger (Fey Wanderer) - Zorg's Lost Souls II
"Science is organized knowledge. Wisdom is organized life."