Lord's Rest Inn

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The tranquil evening air is pierced by the distinctive sound of a horse whinnying as a vibrant figure approaches the tavern. A halfling woman rides gracefully atop her steed, her wild, red hair cascading down her back in waves, catching the last glimmers of sunlight. Her attire consists of a dark green bar-maiden dress that flows elegantly around her, complemented by a crisp white blouse peeking from beneath the fabric's neckline. The dress cinches at her waist, enhancing her rounded features, while the hem brushes just above her brown knee-high boots, which are worn yet sturdy, suggesting many adventures trodden across varied terrains.

Glinting upon her neck and wrists are several pieces of jewelry, all handcrafted from rough stones and leather cords, telling silent stories of craftsmanship and personal significance. Her fingers are adorned with two striking rings: one is expertly carved from wood, uniquely shaped like a little white stoat, its features lovingly detailed; the other, a beautiful woven silver band, contains a shimmering blue gem that captures the light, reminiscent of a stormy ocean.

Her fair skin is dotted with freckles, each one seeming to hold the essence of her playful spirit, and her eyes, deep and stormy, reflect an intensity and thoughtfulness, as if she carries the weight of a thousand stories yet to be told. Rested securely on her shoulder is a little brown mouse, whose tiny nose twitches as it sniffs the air curiously. This little creature, snug in its hand-knitted sweater, adds a whimsical touch to the already enchanting figure of the halfling, as they both seem to revel in the anticipation of what lies ahead. The axe she carries, formidable in size and nearly matching her stature, has clearly seen much use; its blade, worn but well-cared-for.

 Oliver is sitting on the porch of the tavern watching them nervously. He fidgets with his wooden staff, getting small splinters in his fingers.

 She looks over and waves "Ello dear! How're you?"

 "I'm okay..." he mumbles, picking at the splinters in his fingers.

 She walks over to him and pokes him "Sorry dear but I call [GP]. What happened?"

Quote from Jobah619Official >>

*okay now i’m actually back*

 *How are you friend?*

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 *Indeed!*

"Ah..gotcha."

"I...I'm a nobody.."

"I could watch and advise, if that helps. I guess that's the more standard thing a guardian angel does."

"Of course not. You're a wizard, after all? Demonstrate to me your prowess."

 "that'd be nice."

He grits his teeth and stands. He flips through his book, looking for a spell

They shift into a Robin, and flutter onto Theren's shoulder. Feel better?

Lazarus whetts his blade, waiting for Oliver to do something.

 He gently pats their head. "Yeah."

He focuses as a bolt of fire slams into a tree, seemingly summoned from the gem in the staff.

Quote from Jobah619Official >>

*okay now i’m actually back*

 *Need me to bump our interaction?*

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"You're most welcome, Henry." She replies, still warmly smiling and still with a little bit of blue blush on her face. She ties the bag closed once the entire dismantled mannequin has been placed inside. "Thank you for... for giving me that opportunity as well."

It hugs Tim back with its roots, being careful about their thorns as to not accidentally injure him. "Glad I could be of assistance."

 He stretches, "I think it is best I take some time from experimenting with the old blood, lest I take more nearly fatal injuries than I already have. If you need me for anything at all, feel free to call me." He runs his bloody gloved hand through his hair, looking to the sky.

 "I learned so much, you're so helpful. I'm going to do my best for you, and for Tony, and for Tiffany." He specifically doesn't mention his father.

Quote from WendigoOfLore >>

The tranquil evening air is pierced by the distinctive sound of a horse whinnying as a vibrant figure approaches the tavern. A halfling woman rides gracefully atop her steed, her wild, red hair cascading down her back in waves, catching the last glimmers of sunlight. Her attire consists of a dark green bar-maiden dress that flows elegantly around her, complemented by a crisp white blouse peeking from beneath the fabric's neckline. The dress cinches at her waist, enhancing her rounded features, while the hem brushes just above her brown knee-high boots, which are worn yet sturdy, suggesting many adventures trodden across varied terrains.

Glinting upon her neck and wrists are several pieces of jewelry, all handcrafted from rough stones and leather cords, telling silent stories of craftsmanship and personal significance. Her fingers are adorned with two striking rings: one is expertly carved from wood, uniquely shaped like a little white stoat, its features lovingly detailed; the other, a beautiful woven silver band, contains a shimmering blue gem that captures the light, reminiscent of a stormy ocean.

Her fair skin is dotted with freckles, each one seeming to hold the essence of her playful spirit, and her eyes, deep and stormy, reflect an intensity and thoughtfulness, as if she carries the weight of a thousand stories yet to be told. Rested securely on her shoulder is a little brown mouse, whose tiny nose twitches as it sniffs the air curiously. This little creature, snug in its hand-knitted sweater, adds a whimsical touch to the already enchanting figure of the halfling, as they both seem to revel in the anticipation of what lies ahead. The axe she carries, formidable in size and nearly matching her stature, has clearly seen much use; its blade, worn but well-cared-for.

On her way to the Inn, she notices something a little ways away from the building. A colossal sunflower, easily eighteen feet in height, tracing the movement of the sun with its nine flower heads. The dessicated plant- its leaves wilted, its stem bone-dry and crooked, and its petals dying autumnal shades of brown and grey- looks as though it hasn't had water in years, though seems to be doing just fine. In a split part of its stem, there is a glowing radiance reminiscent of a miniature sun, and there are inch-long thorns all across its surface.

Helianth hears her approach, but doesn't react, continuing to take in the sun's rays.

Quote from WendigoOfLore >>

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Quote from WendigoOfLore >>

The tranquil evening air is pierced by the distinctive sound of a horse whinnying as a vibrant figure approaches the tavern. A halfling woman rides gracefully atop her steed, her wild, red hair cascading down her back in waves, catching the last glimmers of sunlight. Her attire consists of a dark green bar-maiden dress that flows elegantly around her, complemented by a crisp white blouse peeking from beneath the fabric's neckline. The dress cinches at her waist, enhancing her rounded features, while the hem brushes just above her brown knee-high boots, which are worn yet sturdy, suggesting many adventures trodden across varied terrains.

Glinting upon her neck and wrists are several pieces of jewelry, all handcrafted from rough stones and leather cords, telling silent stories of craftsmanship and personal significance. Her fingers are adorned with two striking rings: one is expertly carved from wood, uniquely shaped like a little white stoat, its features lovingly detailed; the other, a beautiful woven silver band, contains a shimmering blue gem that captures the light, reminiscent of a stormy ocean.

Her fair skin is dotted with freckles, each one seeming to hold the essence of her playful spirit, and her eyes, deep and stormy, reflect an intensity and thoughtfulness, as if she carries the weight of a thousand stories yet to be told. Rested securely on her shoulder is a little brown mouse, whose tiny nose twitches as it sniffs the air curiously. This little creature, snug in its hand-knitted sweater, adds a whimsical touch to the already enchanting figure of the halfling, as they both seem to revel in the anticipation of what lies ahead. The axe she carries, formidable in size and nearly matching her stature, has clearly seen much use; its blade, worn but well-cared-for.

 Oliver is sitting on the porch of the tavern watching them nervously. He fidgets with his wooden staff, getting small splinters in his fingers.

 She looks over and waves "Ello dear! How're you?"

 "I'm okay..." he mumbles, picking at the splinters in his fingers.

 She walks over to him and pokes him "Sorry dear but I call [GP]. What happened?"