Lord's Rest Inn

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 "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap."

Nick stays very still. Once he's untangled he lands on the ground, landing on his feet.

<It’s alright. There’s a reason cats don’t always talk. We’re very judgmental.>

“So, how ya doing?”

 "No kidding."

"Fine...and you?"

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 "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap."

Nick stays very still. Once he's untangled he lands on the ground, landing on his feet.

<It’s alright. There’s a reason cats don’t always talk. We’re very judgmental.>

“So, how ya doing?”

 "No kidding."

"Fine...and you?"

Caramel rubs against Theren. <Well, we are therapeutic to a degree.>

“Good but how in the world did you get up there? Was the tree alive?”

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Quote from WendigoOfLore >>

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Quote from WendigoOfLore >>

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Quote from WendigoOfLore >>

"Believe me when I say, there are scarier things than monsters and men."

Deep into the woods, the lush green foliage envelops all, creating a sense of calm and serenity. The rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds provide a droning but calm atmosphere. A faint humming sound that seems to be coming from within the thicket. 

The person in question, their face concealed by the hood of the tan cloak, sits cross-legged on the ground, their gaze fixed on the cauldron in front of them. The cauldron, supported by a tripod over a crackling fire, bubbles and steams, emanating an aromatic aroma that smells like flowers. The person's hands, covered by the sleeves of the cloak, rest on their lap, motionless. 

Around them, on the ground, are various small items. The first are beautiful blue crystals, gleaming in the flickering light of the fire. They seem to pulsate with a strange energy. The second are potion bottles, some empty while others filled with strange concoctions of various colors and consistencies. The labels on the bottles are written in a language that is unknown to most. Finally, there is a large scroll with ancient writing on it, spread out on the ground beside the person. The writing appears to be a recipe for some sort of powerful potion or spell, written in a language that only a few people in the world can read. 

*this is amazing*

Thirteen hears the sound of the humming and begins walking in that direction.

 As Thirteen slowly walks over, the figure perks up and turns their head, looking over. The figure has an otherworldly presence, appearing to be an elf with a warm, sun-kissed complexion and short, snow-white hair that contrasts beautifully against their skin. Intricate tattoos adorn the elf's skin, weaving together in mesmerizing patterns, each telling a story of ancient significance. A pair of crystalline horns, reminiscent of finely crafted ice, gracefully sprout from the elf's forehead and curve elegantly behind their head. As the elf shifts, a large, sapphire-blue draconic tail flicks about, betraying a sense of curiosity and intrigue at the new presence. The elf's bright, cerulean eyes sparkle with a friendly smile, radiating warmth and kindness as they lock gazes with Thirteen.

Thirteen isn’t necessarily surprised, but a bit confused. “…Hello.” He says in Draconic.

 They stand up and bow "Hello to you too. I am assuming you speak common?"

“Yes. I speak a lot of languages.” Thirteen looks about the area. “What kind of ritual is being conducted here? It seems quite complex.”

 "Nothing bad I can assure you." He said, chuckling "I am Crasius."

“It is good to make your acquaintance. I am referred to by many as Thirteen.”

 "Why Thirteen." 

“It’s a long story… mostly as a derivative of my given name and a reference to a… mistake I made.”

 "Hm." He said and gestured tp the fire "Care to sit with me while I work? I could use the company."

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 "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap."

Nick stays very still. Once he's untangled he lands on the ground, landing on his feet.

<It’s alright. There’s a reason cats don’t always talk. We’re very judgmental.>

“So, how ya doing?”

 "No kidding."

"Fine...and you?"

Caramel rubs against Theren. <Well, we are therapeutic to a degree.>

“Good but how in the world did you get up there? Was the tree alive?”

 "I suppose." he mumbles, picking them up.

"Was thrown into it." he grumbles, clearly embarrassed.

Quote from WendigoOfLore >>

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Quote from WendigoOfLore >>

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Quote from WendigoOfLore >>

Quote from Jobah619Official >>

Quote from WendigoOfLore >>

Quote from Jobah619Official >>

Quote from WendigoOfLore >>

Quote from Jobah619Official >>

Quote from WendigoOfLore >>

"Believe me when I say, there are scarier things than monsters and men."

Deep into the woods, the lush green foliage envelops all, creating a sense of calm and serenity. The rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds provide a droning but calm atmosphere. A faint humming sound that seems to be coming from within the thicket. 

The person in question, their face concealed by the hood of the tan cloak, sits cross-legged on the ground, their gaze fixed on the cauldron in front of them. The cauldron, supported by a tripod over a crackling fire, bubbles and steams, emanating an aromatic aroma that smells like flowers. The person's hands, covered by the sleeves of the cloak, rest on their lap, motionless. 

Around them, on the ground, are various small items. The first are beautiful blue crystals, gleaming in the flickering light of the fire. They seem to pulsate with a strange energy. The second are potion bottles, some empty while others filled with strange concoctions of various colors and consistencies. The labels on the bottles are written in a language that is unknown to most. Finally, there is a large scroll with ancient writing on it, spread out on the ground beside the person. The writing appears to be a recipe for some sort of powerful potion or spell, written in a language that only a few people in the world can read. 

*this is amazing*

Thirteen hears the sound of the humming and begins walking in that direction.

 As Thirteen slowly walks over, the figure perks up and turns their head, looking over. The figure has an otherworldly presence, appearing to be an elf with a warm, sun-kissed complexion and short, snow-white hair that contrasts beautifully against their skin. Intricate tattoos adorn the elf's skin, weaving together in mesmerizing patterns, each telling a story of ancient significance. A pair of crystalline horns, reminiscent of finely crafted ice, gracefully sprout from the elf's forehead and curve elegantly behind their head. As the elf shifts, a large, sapphire-blue draconic tail flicks about, betraying a sense of curiosity and intrigue at the new presence. The elf's bright, cerulean eyes sparkle with a friendly smile, radiating warmth and kindness as they lock gazes with Thirteen.

Thirteen isn’t necessarily surprised, but a bit confused. “…Hello.” He says in Draconic.

 They stand up and bow "Hello to you too. I am assuming you speak common?"

“Yes. I speak a lot of languages.” Thirteen looks about the area. “What kind of ritual is being conducted here? It seems quite complex.”

 "Nothing bad I can assure you." He said, chuckling "I am Crasius."

“It is good to make your acquaintance. I am referred to by many as Thirteen.”

 "Why Thirteen." 

“It’s a long story… mostly as a derivative of my given name and a reference to a… mistake I made.”

 "Hm." He said and gestured tp the fire "Care to sit with me while I work? I could use the company."

“Sure.” Thirteen sits back upon his knees beside the cauldron.