Lord's Rest Inn

Quote from Jobah619Official >>

*i’ve been actually cursed*

 *that’s rough buddy. Wanna talk abt it?*

Quote from NoiSilverheart >>

Quote from Jobah619Official >>

*i’ve been actually cursed*

 *that’s rough buddy. Wanna talk abt it?*

*just a bunch of random small bad things have been happening to me in the past week. it’s not dissimilar to in movies and stuff where the protagonist is having a bad day and suddenly it just starts raining and a car splashes them and stuff*

*I created an Angel of Death.*

*god it’s been forever.*

*and no this is NOT my first post. I forgot my characters so I’m gonna use one that I’m using in a campaign.*

A man stumbles into the in, slightly off-balance.

*For description of my character please just search up “Trevor Belmont from show Castlevania”* 

On his back are a set of two greatswords. How he manages to carry them is a mystery. 
“Ale, please.” He says, putting a few coins on the counter.

“It’s been a…day.”

Quote from Purplyte >>

*and no this is NOT my first post. I forgot my characters so I’m gonna use one that I’m using in a campaign.*

A man stumbles into the in, slightly off-balance.

*For description of my character please just search up “Trevor Belmont from show Castlevania”* 

On his back are a set of two greatswords. How he manages to carry them is a mystery. 
“Ale, please.” He says, putting a few coins on the counter.

“It’s been a…day.”

A flagon materializes in front of him. A sun elf in black robes stands not far away, examining a leather-bound journal. “What kind of day?” He asks, not looking up.

A strange figure appears at the border between the trees and the grass around the tavern, and a strange pure-white tear in space closes behind him. His strange armor is cracked, like tree bark, and one only eye shines through the helmet's eyeholes. He places his leather pack on the ground, and rummages through it to find something. The armor, rather than laying on top of his body, seems to create the true outline of his figure, creating a strange effect where it seems his real body, under the armor, is incredibly slim. He pulls out a small hatchet and begins to collect some firewood.

Quote from Karavans >>

A strange figure appears at the border between the trees and the grass around the tavern, and a strange pure-white tear in space closes behind him. His strange armor is cracked, like tree bark, and one only eye shines through the helmet's eyeholes. He places his leather pack on the ground, and rummages through it to find something. The armor, rather than laying on top of his body, seems to create the true outline of his figure, creating a strange effect where it seems his real body, under the armor, is incredibly slim. He pulls out a small hatchet and begins to collect some firewood.

A dust-colored tabaxi resembling a caracal in chain mail, leaning nonchalantly against a nearby tree, watches this man closely.