I greet you Hannya, as a fellow traveller. We share common goals as to the undead, and I worship the Lady in all her forms.
He smiles, his teeth incredibly white against his copper skin
Not everyone agrees with me on that. Too many put the flame before mercy.

*A young woman of obviously feline features enters the temple. Those who know something of Outsiders immediately recognize her as being of Rakshasa blood.*

Um. Hello. I'm Isa. The priests of Irori told me to seek out Sister Zadrian if I wish to overcome my blood and become a force for good.

:Bursting through the door, a loud, brash bear of a young Ulfen human, long barely kempt red hair and short braided beard, bright green eyes under a bushy brow smiles broadly finally arriving amongst his new kinsmen. Wearing a course woolen cloak, a ridiculously large claymore crosses over a large great bow across his wide back, his clan themed kilt, reveals a well worn set of masterwork brigadine armor.:

"Aye, by the Great White Stag, it seems I've come to the right place!" eyes wide at the tremendous variety of companions before him and raising a large mug, "I'd give rightful thanks to Old Deadeye but it seems, my mug has gone empty!"

A tall attractive Ulfen woman moves out of the crowd and goes over to most recent newcomer, smiling, with a jug in her hand, "welcome fellow Ulfen, let me solve that most important problem and fill your tankard, then we can raise a drink to our homeland," with that she fills his tankard and raises hers. "I am Freya, cleric of Sarenrae, from Karlsgard, welcome to the Silver Crusade lodge" she then empties her tankard, "and may you use your skills to spread the light and champion the innocent, love the Claymore by the way," she adds with a smile.

Gestures to the seat across the table from him. By all means come join me Miss, Isa is it? And don't let a minor thing like Heritage disuade you from choosing your own path. Is an elf 'overcoming his heritage' when he climbs out of a tree? Is a dwarf always struggling against the urge to go underground and mine something? Is a half-orc 'embracing her human side' when she goes and bathes?

We chose our own path, no matter what others may think we should be doing. The Lady watches over us all.

A Grubby halfling in beat up armor comes in with a tankard of ale and (halfling sized) greatsword over his shoulder.

He sits down by the fire and takes a long draw, then burps. As he lifts his leg to...pass gas...he sees the halfling woman feeding the raptor, and freezes. He immediately licks his hands and attempts to comb back his matted locks of hair. When satisfied, he grins a toothy smile and says "hey there miss...got any more of that jerky?

A young man with, auburn hair and blue eyes enters the room.

He is grasping at the various vials hanging from his belt, trying to stop them from clanking around too much.

He Smiles and Says,

Hello, and well met friends, I am Alnearius. A lovely day isn't it?

The door opens to admit a male halfling with a shortbow, closely followed by a saint bernard. He removes his cloak to reveal a shirt covered in a patchwork of mis-matched pockets of various sizes, shapes and colors. "Hi! My name's Elvis. Elvis Manypockets. Oh, and that's Horse" he says, as the dog makes himself at home in front of the fireplace. "Wow, there's lots of interesting people here! I bet you all have interesting stories, it's gonna be great fun swapping them with each other."

He then walks over to the nearest barbarian who's hoisting a drink and, with a glint in his eye, says "You know why you're not allowed to fight while you're drinking? Cause then you'd be under-rage." Suddenly everyone within hearing feels a surge of courage which fades after a handful of seconds. Grabbing the mug of ale that's somehow decided to float towards him, Elvis winks at the barbarian and wanders over to investigate the raptor.

rolls his eyes
Lady protect us from halflings with jokes.

+

The druid has apparently given up on the light reading of fungus and is struggling through an old tomb varisian runes. "Akklu, verata, neckt..." he looks over the book and eeeps a bit as he sees the halfling approaching the raptor. *Child* he growls in draconic, which earns him a stern look from the beast. *Yes, seriously. They're all friends here. Maybe this one has some jerky for you too* The raptor perks at the thought gives a more or less friendly lick to the halfling.

"Found him in varissia. Some of the ahh uhm.. valleys out there are really hot and have fauna you don't see anywhere else except in the mawangi expanse. Its really fascinating how a little extra heat can form a pocket of air and.. HEY!" the raptor sticks his nose into a random pocket, looking for something.

The tall Ulfen cleric of Sarenrae puts down her tankard with a sigh and stands, "it is time for me to leave you for a while. The society has asked me to go to Sandpoint and check up on the rumours of Goblin activity in the Brinestump Marsh, they have terrorized the small town before, hopefully they do not have have plans to do this again. Perhaps I will have stories to tell when I return. May the light of Sarenrae protect you." With that she collects her belongings and with a smile and wave she leaves the lodge.

"Well met, Lady Freya of Karlsgard!" :he smiles and winks at the fine speciman of Northern breeding and finishes his mug with several strong gulps: Wiping the foam off his bristles with his sleeve, he motions over and chuckles at the gathering of the halflings with the greatswords, dinosaurs and huge dogs.
"Have you ever seen such a...." looking back, he sees the priestess heading for the door and strides quickly over to her. "Would ye leave so quickly, lass?"
:seeing the steely resolve glinting in her eyes:
"A word then before you leave?"
"I, myself, just returned from Isgar to deal with hobgoblins plaguing the Chitterwood and by Torag's beard, goblin hunting is a nasty and thirsty business..."

"I'd much rather deal with goblins than crazy werewolf hunters and crazier fey."
Dex smiles his almost preternaturally white teeth contrasting with the beaten copper colour of his skin.
"But then I don't have to worry about fire as much as most."

A young osirani man with stark white hair and deep purple eyes enters the room, a helmet tucked up under his arm, a large multi headed flail at his belt, and a moon shaped pendant with a skull face dangling from his neck,

"Hello all I am Akram Alhazrad, Guardian of the Gate, Key to the End. It is a pleasure to meet more who seek to stave off that bleak night for one more day and seek to bring the joys of this world to others as I do."

He turns and stares at the goblin, "Ohh you must be one of the new recruits I have heard so much about, I remember hearing of an incident in the north on the frontier that ended with almost three dozen goblins joining the society but I never thought I would run into one in the flesh."

A relatively tall human woman of Kelishite descent, a slender but muscular build with long blond hair, bright blue eyes and very tanned skin. Wearing the robes of a monk and the Holy Symbol of Andoletta dangling from her neck. Walks into the room, She quietly walks over to the bar and hands a parchment to the server. The server reads the parchment and hands her a mug of wine. She then seems to glide to a spot near the couch. Smiles at those that are seated and takes the nearest open chair.

She props her quarterstaff up against the wall and then draws her cloak over the back of the chair to reveal a cold iron Temple Sword. She sits back and quietly drinks her wine will contemplating those that are around her.

She makes eye contact with everyone, nods and smiles but doesn't say a word.

You see a male tiefling with modest horns, a tail, and small red-tufted wings enter the room. He is dressed all in white, even his chainshirt bears a white hue. On closer observation, however, he seems to bear no holy symbol. He has a scimitar belted at his waist.

"Greetings all," he says in excellent Common. "I am known as Aranu Fieldflax, magus of the Order of Light. We are an order that dedicates itself to providing support to those with the divine mandate against evil."

After ordering ale Aranu picks it up with his tail so that he can continue to gesture with his hands. "Not all of those that follow divine ways find themselves tapped directly by the gods. Those of us who are not find other ways to serve. I found mine in combining spell and sword in ways few divine warriors can duplicate.

Aranu sits, transferring the mug to his hand as he does so. “My Order has asked me to join the Pathfinders as a way of not only helping guide the organization into more righteous paths, but also as a means of spreading word of my Order to others.”

Aranu nods to the group. “I hope we find common cause and work well together for the common good.”

Gillian looks at the new comer and lifts her mug of wine to him in a welcome gesture. She brings it to her lips and drinks a good swallow. It is noticeable that the bottom of her face from ear to ear and nose under her chin and the top of her neck is snow white. When she opens her mouth a very faint puff of misty air comes from her mouth. It seems to leave a thin layer of frozen wine after she drinks, Which melts quickly. The look on her face when it happens gives everyone that see's it, an idea that she hasn't been having this problem for long and she is frustrated with it.

She gestures to the serving wench and orders a meal....

A young, lean half-elf with black braided hair and green eyes wearing typical monk outfit with the symbol of Irori sewn in. He has a siangham sheathe behind his back along with a pouch holding shurikens.

"Greetings, I'm Caladrel Loktorn and I was sent from a temple of Irori to lend my strength and assistance to the cause of the Silver Crusade."

Walking into the room is what appears to be a human with blond hair and blue eyes. Those who are observant notice several otherworldly qualities about him. He is always well illuminated, as if light shines a little brighter on Jander. He has a winged shadow (although Jander himself does not have wings).

Jander normally wears mithril full plate armor and a traveller's outfit. An adamantine heavy mace (inscribed with the word "Redemption" in celestial) is attached to a weapon cord and worn on his belt. A small silver mace is also worn on his belt. He carries a large darkwood shield that displays the symbol of Sarenrae.

Jander smiles as he sees the gathering of heroes devoted to the cause of good. "Well met, comrades. I am Jander, a cleric devoted to Sarenrae, and a member of the temple here. It is reassuring to see so many members of the Silver Crusade, as I have only met only one other when on an assignment."

Most times I hit a bar like this theres a big knock down brawl...I think this time it'll just be boring. Oh well - to Cayden!(gulp)

Gillian sees the new comers and nods to them. She continues to eat and drink. But not over indulging. If anyone is watching her, every move that she does is a deliberate movement. As if she is practicing a new Kata or ceremony. Her prayer book is open on the table, She refers to it every so often. Then corrects her movements. Her lithe body while sitting in the chair moves in ever so subtle ways. Her long blonde hair done up in a braid, with what looks like a wooden ball tied to the end of it. when ever she finishes a routine, she exhales a faint cold mist from her mouth. She shivers every time it happens.

Every time someone calls out a toast she also raises her glass.

Another youth steps forward, a banner emblazoned with two black shields flanking the glyph of the open road in one hand and a shield similarly emblazoned in the other.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Silver Crusader Arden Verathorn of Lastwall, Knight of the Order of the Dragon, Honor Guard of the Pathfinder Society, Tacticial Studies Graduate of the Crusader War College in Vigil, Savior of the Minotaur Prince of Absalom, Harvestman’s Bane, Slayer of Aralantryx the White Dragon of the Shadow Lodge, Exemplar of Falcon’s Hollow and Hero of the Fey, Foe of That Which Lies Between the Stars, befriender of the Sewer Dragons of Absalom, Benefactor of Greenheart’s Blessing, Protector of Whistledown, and Hero of Sothis.”

A man of early middle age enters after the herald has finished addressing the crowd; the snap of booted heels on marble flooring accentuates the ringing of his spurred rowels and gives an audible account to the measured steps of the approaching figure. Dressed in pristine silvery plate mail one hand holding an armet, the other resting on the equine hilt of his sheathed falcata. He stops at the assembled group and quickly glances at everyone present, green eyes quickly assessing the Pathfinders before him. A sharp and crisp voice echoes forth.

“Greetings unto you, Silver Crusaders. Some of you I have met before,” he nods in the direction of Lady Ophelia and Ollysta Zadrian, “Others, I have yet to have the pleasure.”

Adopting a more rigid militaristic stance he again speaks.

“Should any of you have need of a shield, I will be your armor. Should you remain loyal to the Pathfinder Society, I will remain loyal to you. Should it become necessary to defend your honor, have no doubt that I will standfast at your side. This I swear. For the honor of your company, I ask only that you venture forth and leave this world better than we found it.”

*looks down sadly* Poor dragon.

The door burst open and heavily built, 5' 6" dwarf walks into the room. He is bald with a deep red scar of a hammer carved into his brow. Slung across his back is a large war-hammer, with nics and dents along the shaft a head.

"Is this the Crusade Meeting? I am Thorfinn, Holy Vindicator of Torag, at your survive! Did i miss the meeting?"

A tall Taldan man enters, announced by the distinctive clopping of his wooden shoes. Dressed in a simple outfit of undyed wool, his powerful arms and broad shoulders give him an imposing presence. His face is remarkably unpleasant, though it might be generously described as "plain" were it not marred by an ugly scar running the length of the right cheek and a nose that looks to have been broken a few too many times. Nevertheless, his fearsome mein is offset by a small but genuine smile and the obvious care with which he has seen to his personal grooming.

Glancing around the room, his smile widens. "My but it's good to see so many friendly faces, an' many more I ne'er seen before. Name's Jules, formerly a' Isarn, humble servant a' Shelyn an' sometime muscle fer the Society."

"Greetings, Crusaders. I may be new around here, but it appears we all share the same goals. I'm glad to find a group of like-minded individuals along the path of righteousness who also don't pull punches. My name is Treizen Te'Manre and I grew up in Vigil. I'm no strange witness to pain and suffering and I've come as an unpleasant surprise to those that would cause it. Me and my friend 'Scythie' here have a fondness for simply returning to Evil what is their due. I am an Angel of Reciprocity and my Inquisition is my faith. Oh, and I like to show off at archery competitions."

Spins his scythe and hurls it towards a bullseye target, severing it in half. Magically enchanted, the scythe returns to it's master.

"It's all fun and games until Scythie gets frustrated! Ahahahah!"

" greetings one and all, my name is Oliver Ovid Shane, i see that we are all together" he places his hat down and bows to the rest of the group, my older brother told me that since he and i are different factions i figure we might as well look to my faction as a support you know since Andorran having issues and what not" but thats besides the point i hope you under stand brothers and sister that i haven't been adventure long but i hope to understand the ways of a great adventurers"

A young woman clad in plate mail enters the hall with a cold iron great sword strapped to her back, and a clawed gauntlet on her right hand. She removes her helmet to reveal a flock of raven black hair, and a stern look on her face. "Greetings, I am Tal'yn, a Paladin of Iomadea. I have pledged my sword to the Silver Crusade, and I dare anyone to take it from me". Those close enough notice her wink as she says the last words....

A tall, wiry, human male walks into the room. His age is indeterminate, but he is obviously no spring chicken based on the crow's feet around his eyes and the flecks of gray in the long hair that cascades out from under his broad-brimmed hat. He is wearing traveller's clothes, covered with the dust of the road. His longbow is strapped across his back, while a scimitar and vicious-looking dagger hang from either hip. When he speaks, his voice is is gravelly, like one who has smoked too many cigarettes and drank too much whiskey.

I am Francisco Cisneros, inquisitor of Sarenrae. Not long ago, it was more likely I would have been one of the hunted instead of one of the hunters. However, Sarenrae opened my eyes and put me on the path to redemption. Now I feel it is my duty to help others redeem themselves. I place myself in the service of the Silver Crusade. May the gods have mercy on our enemies' souls.

A homely and heavily armed Dwarf, after having remained mostly silent for a long while, takes a long drag of his pipe, and after blowing a few smoke rings, looks to those around him: Francisco, Ta'lyn, Oliver, and Treizen. Then he looks to Ladies Ophelia and Ollysta. He strokes his long brown beard -- braids, iron ties, and all. In a thick Dwarven accent he says:

"Morgrym Anvilstrike, and I'll not be absent should ye count yer number. I'm a humble servant and tool fer the Great Forge Master himself. I walk with the society so that I might gain power, prestige, and resources. I walk with the crusade so that I might put those tools to the most holy of purposes: Easin' sufferin', forgin' the greatest arms the land has ever seen, and vanquishin' evil."

You see Morgrym get a tiny smile as he puts emphasis on the "vanquishing evil" part. He then takes another heavy drag from his long stem pipe and blows a few more rings.

"The Forge Master walks with me, and so he walks with the crusade. May he bless our cause, now and always."

"Sorry I'm late!" the half-elf mumbles as he enters and moves to a back table. He wears simple traveling clothes, with a several pouches and cases tucked here and there. He sits down and opens a book filled with small, precise writing and pretends to study it while awkwardly trying NOT to stare at Gillian...

When the crowd calls for the newcomer's name, he stands and announces "My name is Rhanloi Ehlyss. I'm a bookseller - well, more like a seeker of arcane knowledge who helps pay the bills by selling books, you get the picture...In my travels I've seen good and evil - but more evil. So, while I'm neither cleric nor paladin, I stand for goodness the best I can wherever I am, and I am pleased to be part of this esteemed group!"

"By the Goddess' Blessed Acts!" The door opens a little more quietly than some times before. The Chelaxian woman in a breastplate with a sword and bow bigger than she is strides in. A last glance back out the door, and she looks about the room. "It's good to be back in civilization. The River Kingdoms don't count."

Her wide smile flashes all around the room. "Well met, Crusaders!"

She notices Rhanloi, and extends a finger. "Books? I've seen the value, though I'm not much of a reader. But, anyways, you got stuff about the WorldWound? I'm bound there, if not sooner, than later. Tryin' to get competent right now."