It is a cool summer night in the town of Vallerond. A bustling crossroads town, Vallerond usually stays busy late in to the night as travelers and passerbys come in and out of the town at all times. The permanent residents of the town welcome people they are not familiar with, with a friendly tone, many of whom offer wares or services to anyone and everyone. A small group of guards patrol the town, usually just to stop the occasional bar fight but not much else. Vallerond is a town that thrives on tourism and the people whose journeys find them in this town.
More than any other type of buildings are the numerous inns that are used for this large population of travelers. While there are many inns to choose from, seven new adventurers happen to choose to stay at the Dragon's Respite. Some have been there for a week or two while others are just settling for their first night in Vallerond. After procuring rooms for the night, each of you have decided to go to the tavern section of the inn and get some drink and food.
Upon looking around, you seen only a few tables to choose from. One table that seats four sitting under an open window. A table by an unlit hearth for two. And a large wooden banquet-like table that has benches for anyone who wants to squeeze in. A young women with long blonde hair pulled up into a bun greets you.
"Sit where you'd like" she says in a warm greeting as she prepares the currently empty tavern. "The name's Tina. Just holler at me if you need anything."
A blue Teifling wearing a brown gi and loose pants takes a seat by the window. The silver glint in his eyes barely seen as he squints against the light and tries to hide a yawn behind shut lips. The back of the gi seems to have a half-finished word in Infernal at the center with a few simple shapes by the shoulders. Perhaps a little longer in the bed was required, He thought. It would be easy for him to wait a little longer. Maybe just have a little alcohol to wake him. Perhaps get his heart pumping with a game of dice.
The pause he takes was only a second in the seat, but in his mind, a lifetime of a past came to the front. It was luxurious. Dangerous. So tantalizingly easy to step back in. To be able to have it all, just to sacrifice a semblance of decency. His fist tightens as he digs his own nails into the skin. He is better than that. If he had to accept a trait from the family line, it was the denial of losing. He wasn’t going back until he could find balance between the devil’s blood that courses in his form and the heavy heart of man that beats within.
The stir of needing to do something began again as he removed his pack and gi, exposing his upper body, tightened through years of training. He flipped the gi to the back and took out the needle and thread, trying to busy himself to finish the word on the back.
A young women in black with hooded cloak slips into small table by the hearth. “A cider and trencher, please,” she rasped to Tina on the way. She slouches in her seat and observes the crowd while waiting for her food.
A pale, young-looking elf ducks into the room, dropping his hood as he closes the door. He wears a long shirt under his cloak that seems too bulky for his thin frame. His eyes seem narrow and searching, but he wears a smile like he was born to it. He slides onto the end of the large table and waves his hand.
"Tina, could I have an ale, a small glass of whatever spirit you have that's strong and sharp, and a bowl of whatever's on the pot tonight?"
He pulls a book from somewhere inside his cloak, and begins to read, looking up and around the room occasionally, though it isn't clear if he is looking for something.
Sounds to me that only thing that is hard is head. The Teifling sarcastically remarks to himself, a heavy Eastern European hanging on each word. He bites into a string to snap it off, the word isn’t quite eloquent, but the Infernal word looking rough seemed right. Redonning the gi, the Teifling restraightens the uniform. Now, the Infernal word “Fate” rests at the center of his back. Will accept cider and plate off eggs and meat, if you please, Tina.
Within a darkened corner of the tavern, but two tables from the large banquet table, dimly lit by the faint candlelight hanging from the walls, sat a lone dragonborn. His skin appeared to be silver in colour,despite the low light giving it more of a grey-ish hue. The silver appeared as though he would stand at around 6'5", with a relatively bulky figure about him, despite not seeming the brawly type, eben from a glance. He sat alone in the corner of the tavern, a large empty glass by his side, and a particularly large tome laying infront of him. The tome gave off a vibe of times long passed, as all around the edges of this book were frayed and worn with age, discoloured to a half orange-brown. The tome's cover was littered with markings and detailing, from eligant circles to lagged linework. The title of the book appeared to be written in a forgotten ancient language, as the lettering seemed to be of a historic origin, featuring sharp sharp and rough linework compared to more eligant writings of nowadays. The tome's cover still retained some of its original colour, despite it's seeming age, a faint teal fading into weavings of green across the entire cover. The silver dragonborn ran his fingers across the markings and lettering across the tome, appearing to be without meaning and more of a passtime, whilst he stared amongst the tavern, observing the patrons within. He had travelled far with this tome, hoping to find somebody with the slightest incline into it'/ history, and perhaps even, its origin. He continued to scan the room of patrons for anybody who seemed somewhat magical, as the dragonborn'/ eyes flashed a faint blue for a second, his detect magic spell being passively cast as he looked over the patrons of the Dragon's Respite Tavern, keeping his head down if he noticed anybody staring in his direction. The silver dragonborn was incredibly awkward, despite having a purpose for being here, his socially inept self making discovering the origins of this old tome he carried incredibly difficult. As he sat there, leaning to the side to order a second glass of ale from a nearby waitress, "Just one more ale if you would be so kind, thank you." The dragonborn had a rather rough voice, yet spoke with almost perfect pronounciation of words, taking his time almost to be easily understood. As his second glass arrived at the table and with a thankful gesture as the waitress left,he picked up a large backpack from his feet, placed the old tome carefully into it, before laying the backpack down again to the side of a blue, finely crafted Lute which leant against the wall of the tavrn beside the silver dragonborn's chair.
A tall, brown skinned half elf saunters down the stairs into the tavern. Four red braids cling to his head before trailing down past his back, and geometric markings seem to be painted on his face. He’s dressed in leathers, ornamented with feathers and glass beads that hang on tiny metal rings. Brightly colored fabric is draped around his shoulders and tied around his waist, all making for quite a striking image. Desipte his graceful walk, he anxiously tugs at his clothes and fiddles with his decorations as he makes his way to the banquet table and sits down right in the center of it. The aroma of smoke and incense trails after him. “Ah yes excuse me, I’d like ahh... whatever my friend there is having please.” He says with a smile as he points to the equally ostentatious man nursing his head.
The Teifling doesn’t wholly respond, only catching the eyes before the human’s head hit the table again. His expression is rather flat, almost to a point of disinterest. The silver eyes scan over the banquet table and returns back to his own. Clearly, if he had struck a nerve and the man wanted to act on it, he’d be ready. Being a Teifling would normally result in chuckles and gestures about a ‘devil’ roaming in and a few foolhardy braggarts making rude comments about how they could outsmart and outclass him. Those few would be met with a stern approach, resulting in either them backing down or stepping forward. His devilish instincts wanted the human to step up soooo badly.
While I am waiting for my food, I feel like listening to a tune. Mordekai suddenly spoke out, his eyes glancing to the dragonborn and his lute. Silver one, do you have any preferable song choice for one who is looking to punch out a few thugs today?
The half elf glances back at the human, giving a wink and a sly smile. “Ah yes, I often get stares for these markings. They ward off evil spirits.” He says, gesturing to the designs on his face.
A young women in black with hooded cloak slips into small table by the hearth. “A cider and trencher, please,” she rasped to Tina on the way. She slouches in her seat and observes the crowd while waiting for her food.
"Of course dearie" the young woman replies and brings you a wooden tankard filled to the brim with foamy cider. "One silver if you mind ma'am."
He slides onto the end of the large table and waves his hand.
"Tina, could I have an ale, a small glass of whatever spirit you have that's strong and sharp, and a bowl of whatever's on the pot tonight?"
He pulls a book from somewhere inside his cloak, and begins to read, looking up and around the room occasionally, though it isn't clear if he is looking for something.
Tina swing back to the bar and with a tray in hand brings you your request. You get a tankard of ale, a small metal cup filled with something that you are unfamiliar with but smells like distilled alcohol with a slight oak flavor. Lastly, she sets down a plain ceramic bowl filled with a brown gravy as you see bits of root vegetables and meat. "Rabbit," she clarifies as she looks over and tries to read over your shoulder at the book you are reading. As she sees you look up she turns her head quickly. "Three silver for everything."
A human around 5ft 11 inches tall, 130 pounds with long black hair and sparking yellow eyes stumbles down stairs with a clear hangover holding his hand to his head, he moves his right hand in a clockwise position to get a barmaids attention "Can i just get something hard that'll keep me alive, perhaps a whiskey, i'm ******* dying here!" he says in a common(Cockney) accent.
He takes a seat at the banquet table away from anyone else sitting there and immediately slams his face into the table and waits for his drink.
"Oh honey, I hope it wasn't too hard of a night for ya," she says comfortingly. She softly sets down your cup as the smell of the whiskey hits your senses. "A silver when you're ready."
Sounds to me that only thing that is hard is head. The Teifling sarcastically remarks to himself, a heavy Eastern European hanging on each word. He bites into a string to snap it off, the word isn’t quite eloquent, but the Infernal word looking rough seemed right. Redonning the gi, the Teifling restraightens the uniform. Now, the Infernal word “Fate” rests at the center of his back. Will accept cider and plate off eggs and meat, if you please, Tina.
"I hope you don't mind rabbit," Tina says with just a hint of hesitance in her voice. "But the eggs are fresh. Picked'em from the hens myself this morning." She moves around the small tavern with ease as she fills up one more tankard of cider and gathers the food and brings them to the table. "What beautiful craftsmanship," she praises as she looks at the garment around your back.
As he sat there, leaning to the side to order a second glass of ale from a nearby waitress, "Just one more ale if you would be so kind, thank you." The dragonborn had a rather rough voice, yet spoke with almost perfect pronounciation of words, taking his time almost to be easily understood. As his second glass arrived at the table and with a thankful gesture as the waitress left,he picked up a large backpack from his feet, placed the old tome carefully into it, before laying the backpack down again to the side of a blue, finely crafted Lute which leant against the wall of the tavrn beside the silver dragonborn's chair.
Being sure not to step on your pack, Tina reaches over, clears the empty glass and before you know it, a full one has taken its place. "That's two silver unless your planning on drinking your day away."
The aroma of smoke and incense trails after him. “Ah yes excuse me, I’d like ahh... whatever my friend there is having please.” He says with a smile as he points to the equally ostentatious man nursing his head.
Tina hears the order from across the room. "In just a moment," Tina calls back, not expecting this many orders all at once. She looks back over at the human whose head is on the table to remember his order. She comes over and sets down the whiskey. "A silver as well."
While Tina is still at her table, the girl seems to appear out of the shadows and puts down 3 silver. “I’ll think I will have a bit of stew as well, please. I like rabbit just fine but is there any other meat to he had?” The oversized hood covers most of her face, but there seems to be a flash of ruby where her eyes should be. She reaches for her tankard with a ruddy hand.
A large silver dragonborn enters the tavern, looking about the room to see who some of the newer faces may be. At almost 7 feet tall with thick muscles, he would be quite a sight to see, almost intimidating if not for the weary smile on his face as he nods to some of the locals that he has helping around Vallerond over the last 2 weeks. He chooses a seat by the door so that he can keep an eye on anyone who may enter or leave. He pulls up his cloak and catches Tina's eye as soon as she has a chance. As she comes over to take his order he orders the same thing he has every night since reaching town. "Water please. And whatever meat you have this evening. Thank you."
As he waits for his modest meal, the weary soul watches the door. He closes his eyes briefly and thinks to himself with a low sigh that almost sounds like a growl, "Patience."
Conlaed drains the small cup in a single swallow, and after a moment he smiles and nods. He hesitates for a moment, then silently places five silver pieces on the table. He looks up at Tina and smiles.
"Could I get another cup of that? It was lovely."
Without waiting, he tucks into the stew with what seems to be a considerable hunger.
Putting out a single gold coin, Mordekai accepts the food and drink. You are kind. When I was trained at monastery, was taught that busy hands silent busy minds. If I am still in town, I could work on some other clothing. Maybe other project involving cloth. Really depending on how deep rabbit hole I wish to go in stopping thugs from harming farmers.
While Tina is still at her table, the girl seems to appear out of the shadows and puts down 3 silver. “I’ll think I will have a bit of stew as well, please. I like rabbit just fine but is there any other meat to he had?” The oversized hood covers most of her face, but there seems to be a flash of ruby where her eyes should be. She reaches for her tankard with a ruddy hand.
Tina jumps back, a bit startled. "Oh, you're a sneaky one aren't ya?" Tina remarks. "Rabbit is all we have in the stew for today. If you're looking for bigger game like elk meat, you'll be wanting to head to Oakheart's. He's the butcher in town."
As she comes over to take his order he orders the same thing he has every night since reaching town. "Water please. And whatever meat you have this evening. Thank you."
"Well. Well Cozubia. Glad to see ya again this morning. Those Oloran brothers sure are keeping you busy chopping down trees. A few more days and you might as well consider yourself a citizen here," she smirks as she brings you your usual. "Tab's up to one gold and five silver whenever you're planning on leaving."
Conlaed drains the small cup in a single swallow, and after a moment he smiles and nods. He hesitates for a moment, then silently places five silver pieces on the table. He looks up at Tina and smiles.
"Could I get another cup of that? It was lovely."
Without waiting, he tucks into the stew with what seems to be a considerable hunger.
"If ya'd like but take her easy. Those pack quite the punch after a minute," Tina warns.
*Conclaed, please give me a Constitution Saving Throw
Putting out a single gold coin, Mordekai accepts the food and drink. You are kind. When I was trained at monastery, was taught that busy hands silent busy minds. If I am still in town, I could work on some other clothing. Maybe other project involving cloth. Really depending on how deep rabbit hole I wish to go in stopping thugs from harming farmers.
"I hear it's just awful for those folks in Wayfield. Not to mention were running low on some food here in Vallerond cause of it. Hopefully someone like yourself can help them up there," Tina replies looking back at the food storage area.
Taking the whiskey the human nods and instantly looks over to respond to the half elf's comments " Heh... Sure they do kid" and downs the whiskey in a single swig, slams the cup on the table and takes a deep breath and shouts "Another!" looking almost rejuvenated by the drink and starts to curiously stare at each person he sees in the bar today, sizing each person up, looking them up and down and perhaps catching your eyes here and there whilst he twiddles with his goatee with an eyebrow cocked in curiosity.
"One more on its way!" Tina shouts as she runs back and forth between the seven people now sitting in the tavern.
Mordekai sips on the cider and begins to slowly eat his meal. With food being low, it was no wonder why the nerves were beginning to come down on the people. He remembered the feeling of running on empty stomach as he would not be allowed a meal before admitting his shortcomings to the master of the monastery. It made his body tense, exuding an unseen heat that began to broil inside. What have they wagered that has resulted in the hardships of themselves and all others who need them? Mordekai spoke aloud, scooping up another forkful of egg. At least the light from the window was pleasant, letting Mordekai have a look to the outside. As the rest in the bar hid in shadow, he remained fully visible; nothing to hide on who he was now.
To Tina: "Rabbit is fine, thank you. So game around her is good? I hear there have been some supply issues....bandits? I don't like thieves." She looks around the room trying figure out this motley bunch, asking herself if they could have any part in all this, and sips her cider.
It is a cool summer night in the town of Vallerond. A bustling crossroads town, Vallerond usually stays busy late in to the night as travelers and passerbys come in and out of the town at all times. The permanent residents of the town welcome people they are not familiar with, with a friendly tone, many of whom offer wares or services to anyone and everyone. A small group of guards patrol the town, usually just to stop the occasional bar fight but not much else. Vallerond is a town that thrives on tourism and the people whose journeys find them in this town.
More than any other type of buildings are the numerous inns that are used for this large population of travelers. While there are many inns to choose from, seven new adventurers happen to choose to stay at the Dragon's Respite. Some have been there for a week or two while others are just settling for their first night in Vallerond. After procuring rooms for the night, each of you have decided to go to the tavern section of the inn and get some drink and food.
Upon looking around, you seen only a few tables to choose from. One table that seats four sitting under an open window. A table by an unlit hearth for two. And a large wooden banquet-like table that has benches for anyone who wants to squeeze in. A young women with long blonde hair pulled up into a bun greets you.
"Sit where you'd like" she says in a warm greeting as she prepares the currently empty tavern. "The name's Tina. Just holler at me if you need anything."
WhitsEnd - Carmen, Tiefling Rogue Lonewolf3568 - Cozubia, Dragonborn Paladin
angrytaco - Mordekai Da, Tiefling Monk Conlaed - Conlaed, Wood Elf Cleric
Sphynxyy - Iefyr Naegeiros, Half-Elf Bard
Mooseburg - Ezid Blizzardback, Dragonborn Bard
A blue Teifling wearing a brown gi and loose pants takes a seat by the window. The silver glint in his eyes barely seen as he squints against the light and tries to hide a yawn behind shut lips. The back of the gi seems to have a half-finished word in Infernal at the center with a few simple shapes by the shoulders. Perhaps a little longer in the bed was required, He thought. It would be easy for him to wait a little longer. Maybe just have a little alcohol to wake him. Perhaps get his heart pumping with a game of dice.
The pause he takes was only a second in the seat, but in his mind, a lifetime of a past came to the front. It was luxurious. Dangerous. So tantalizingly easy to step back in. To be able to have it all, just to sacrifice a semblance of decency. His fist tightens as he digs his own nails into the skin. He is better than that. If he had to accept a trait from the family line, it was the denial of losing. He wasn’t going back until he could find balance between the devil’s blood that courses in his form and the heavy heart of man that beats within.
The stir of needing to do something began again as he removed his pack and gi, exposing his upper body, tightened through years of training. He flipped the gi to the back and took out the needle and thread, trying to busy himself to finish the word on the back.
Mordekai Da, Teifling Monk - Level 3
A young women in black with hooded cloak slips into small table by the hearth. “A cider and trencher, please,” she rasped to Tina on the way. She slouches in her seat and observes the crowd while waiting for her food.
A pale, young-looking elf ducks into the room, dropping his hood as he closes the door. He wears a long shirt under his cloak that seems too bulky for his thin frame. His eyes seem narrow and searching, but he wears a smile like he was born to it. He slides onto the end of the large table and waves his hand.
"Tina, could I have an ale, a small glass of whatever spirit you have that's strong and sharp, and a bowl of whatever's on the pot tonight?"
He pulls a book from somewhere inside his cloak, and begins to read, looking up and around the room occasionally, though it isn't clear if he is looking for something.
Conlaed — 3 Cleric (Knowledge Domain), Wood Elf
Sounds to me that only thing that is hard is head. The Teifling sarcastically remarks to himself, a heavy Eastern European hanging on each word. He bites into a string to snap it off, the word isn’t quite eloquent, but the Infernal word looking rough seemed right. Redonning the gi, the Teifling restraightens the uniform. Now, the Infernal word “Fate” rests at the center of his back. Will accept cider and plate off eggs and meat, if you please, Tina.
Mordekai Da, Teifling Monk - Level 3
Within a darkened corner of the tavern, but two tables from the large banquet table, dimly lit by the faint candlelight hanging from the walls, sat a lone dragonborn. His skin appeared to be silver in colour,despite the low light giving it more of a grey-ish hue. The silver appeared as though he would stand at around 6'5", with a relatively bulky figure about him, despite not seeming the brawly type, eben from a glance. He sat alone in the corner of the tavern, a large empty glass by his side, and a particularly large tome laying infront of him. The tome gave off a vibe of times long passed, as all around the edges of this book were frayed and worn with age, discoloured to a half orange-brown. The tome's cover was littered with markings and detailing, from eligant circles to lagged linework. The title of the book appeared to be written in a forgotten ancient language, as the lettering seemed to be of a historic origin, featuring sharp sharp and rough linework compared to more eligant writings of nowadays. The tome's cover still retained some of its original colour, despite it's seeming age, a faint teal fading into weavings of green across the entire cover. The silver dragonborn ran his fingers across the markings and lettering across the tome, appearing to be without meaning and more of a passtime, whilst he stared amongst the tavern, observing the patrons within. He had travelled far with this tome, hoping to find somebody with the slightest incline into it'/ history, and perhaps even, its origin. He continued to scan the room of patrons for anybody who seemed somewhat magical, as the dragonborn'/ eyes flashed a faint blue for a second, his detect magic spell being passively cast as he looked over the patrons of the Dragon's Respite Tavern, keeping his head down if he noticed anybody staring in his direction. The silver dragonborn was incredibly awkward, despite having a purpose for being here, his socially inept self making discovering the origins of this old tome he carried incredibly difficult. As he sat there, leaning to the side to order a second glass of ale from a nearby waitress, "Just one more ale if you would be so kind, thank you." The dragonborn had a rather rough voice, yet spoke with almost perfect pronounciation of words, taking his time almost to be easily understood. As his second glass arrived at the table and with a thankful gesture as the waitress left, he picked up a large backpack from his feet, placed the old tome carefully into it, before laying the backpack down again to the side of a blue, finely crafted Lute which leant against the wall of the tavrn beside the silver dragonborn's chair.
A tall, brown skinned half elf saunters down the stairs into the tavern. Four red braids cling to his head before trailing down past his back, and geometric markings seem to be painted on his face. He’s dressed in leathers, ornamented with feathers and glass beads that hang on tiny metal rings. Brightly colored fabric is draped around his shoulders and tied around his waist, all making for quite a striking image. Desipte his graceful walk, he anxiously tugs at his clothes and fiddles with his decorations as he makes his way to the banquet table and sits down right in the center of it. The aroma of smoke and incense trails after him. “Ah yes excuse me, I’d like ahh... whatever my friend there is having please.” He says with a smile as he points to the equally ostentatious man nursing his head.
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
The Teifling doesn’t wholly respond, only catching the eyes before the human’s head hit the table again. His expression is rather flat, almost to a point of disinterest. The silver eyes scan over the banquet table and returns back to his own. Clearly, if he had struck a nerve and the man wanted to act on it, he’d be ready. Being a Teifling would normally result in chuckles and gestures about a ‘devil’ roaming in and a few foolhardy braggarts making rude comments about how they could outsmart and outclass him. Those few would be met with a stern approach, resulting in either them backing down or stepping forward. His devilish instincts wanted the human to step up soooo badly.
While I am waiting for my food, I feel like listening to a tune. Mordekai suddenly spoke out, his eyes glancing to the dragonborn and his lute. Silver one, do you have any preferable song choice for one who is looking to punch out a few thugs today?
Mordekai Da, Teifling Monk - Level 3
The half elf glances back at the human, giving a wink and a sly smile. “Ah yes, I often get stares for these markings. They ward off evil spirits.” He says, gesturing to the designs on his face.
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
WhitsEnd - Carmen, Tiefling Rogue Lonewolf3568 - Cozubia, Dragonborn Paladin
angrytaco - Mordekai Da, Tiefling Monk Conlaed - Conlaed, Wood Elf Cleric
Sphynxyy - Iefyr Naegeiros, Half-Elf Bard
Mooseburg - Ezid Blizzardback, Dragonborn Bard
While Tina is still at her table, the girl seems to appear out of the shadows and puts down 3 silver. “I’ll think I will have a bit of stew as well, please. I like rabbit just fine but is there any other meat to he had?” The oversized hood covers most of her face, but there seems to be a flash of ruby where her eyes should be. She reaches for her tankard with a ruddy hand.
A large silver dragonborn enters the tavern, looking about the room to see who some of the newer faces may be. At almost 7 feet tall with thick muscles, he would be quite a sight to see, almost intimidating if not for the weary smile on his face as he nods to some of the locals that he has helping around Vallerond over the last 2 weeks. He chooses a seat by the door so that he can keep an eye on anyone who may enter or leave. He pulls up his cloak and catches Tina's eye as soon as she has a chance. As she comes over to take his order he orders the same thing he has every night since reaching town. "Water please. And whatever meat you have this evening. Thank you."
As he waits for his modest meal, the weary soul watches the door. He closes his eyes briefly and thinks to himself with a low sigh that almost sounds like a growl, "Patience."
Cozubia: Silver Dragonborn Paladin, Level 3
Conlaed drains the small cup in a single swallow, and after a moment he smiles and nods. He hesitates for a moment, then silently places five silver pieces on the table. He looks up at Tina and smiles.
"Could I get another cup of that? It was lovely."
Without waiting, he tucks into the stew with what seems to be a considerable hunger.
Conlaed — 3 Cleric (Knowledge Domain), Wood Elf
Putting out a single gold coin, Mordekai accepts the food and drink. You are kind. When I was trained at monastery, was taught that busy hands silent busy minds. If I am still in town, I could work on some other clothing. Maybe other project involving cloth. Really depending on how deep rabbit hole I wish to go in stopping thugs from harming farmers.
Mordekai Da, Teifling Monk - Level 3
WhitsEnd - Carmen, Tiefling Rogue Lonewolf3568 - Cozubia, Dragonborn Paladin
angrytaco - Mordekai Da, Tiefling Monk Conlaed - Conlaed, Wood Elf Cleric
Sphynxyy - Iefyr Naegeiros, Half-Elf Bard
Mooseburg - Ezid Blizzardback, Dragonborn Bard
Mordekai sips on the cider and begins to slowly eat his meal. With food being low, it was no wonder why the nerves were beginning to come down on the people. He remembered the feeling of running on empty stomach as he would not be allowed a meal before admitting his shortcomings to the master of the monastery. It made his body tense, exuding an unseen heat that began to broil inside. What have they wagered that has resulted in the hardships of themselves and all others who need them? Mordekai spoke aloud, scooping up another forkful of egg. At least the light from the window was pleasant, letting Mordekai have a look to the outside. As the rest in the bar hid in shadow, he remained fully visible; nothing to hide on who he was now.
Mordekai Da, Teifling Monk - Level 3
To Tina: "Rabbit is fine, thank you. So game around her is good? I hear there have been some supply issues....bandits? I don't like thieves." She looks around the room trying figure out this motley bunch, asking herself if they could have any part in all this, and sips her cider.