"Aye, ye're right, o'course. Mebbe I'm already havin' too much 'o me stout. One hunert and eight years, then. I dinnae blame Her fer bein' cross. If it t'were meh, I'd be after some answers, meself."
Drake turns to Maximillian in turn. "Armasse was a much different festival in the times of Aroden. Instead of a week long rancorous party, it was a time to exchange ideas and history among the faithful. They have a similar festival in Cheliax, but that is mostly in keeping up traditions and shifting the focus to our Infernal Father"
Weyland listens politely to the teifling and gives him a little bow, "I am glad I could restore your faith. In the destruction of demons, we are agreed. As for certain other tenants of your...patron, let us agree to disagree. Enjoy your evening and walk in the light.
Turning away, he gets caught up in the conversations rising up around him. He listens with deepening disquiet as Doretea's tells her tail. "I am sorry for your loss, but a man who is willing to sacrifice freedom for security, deserves neither. In Cheliax, you family might still have been killed, but in a state sanctioned sacrifice. Never forget that Asmodeus is the lord of tyranny and slavery and his church is an abomination. We can ill afford to refuse any help in our fight against the demons, but accepting Cheliaxian aid is a taint on the hearts of all goodly folk and we have no choice, but to bear it."
Vaelor seemed to shift slightly at the mention of Asmodeus. He looked around the bar quickly and asked, "Where's a server when you need them?"
Barundar snorts at the mention of how Armasse used to be, back when the Last Azlanti was still alive.
"I dinnae care for such times as this. Too many bodies not knowin' what all the other bodies are dooin'. Seems ta me to be a strange thing to be celebratin' anyway, the death o' yer god. Makes me wonder what happened that turned it intae this."
Aaliyah can't help but overhear Barundar's comment. Rather than just ignore it, she actually thinks for a moment before giving a shrug. "If you've been living here your whole life, I would imagine any excuse to try to be cheerful would be pounced upon, since there are so few with a demonic army over the next hill all the time."
Seeing as the situation calmed down, Konny keeps his distance from the conversation. Never one to discuss philosophical matters with strangers, he enjoys the rest of his apple.
Vaelor seemed to shift slightly at the mention of Asmodeus. He looked around the bar quickly and asked, "Where's a server when you need them?"
kayla looks around and growing bored with the political conversation. she has nothing to contribute to it.
she takes note of a poor fellow that has no ale.
grabbing the half mug that was left. she slips a serving tray under her arm and heads to the table where Vaelor is sitting.
Good evening sir, I am so sorry to have missed you, it is quite busy. here take this, first half mug on the house. No what can I get you?
Vaelor caught the little Gnomes hand and quietly said, "Nothing thank you." He leaned in closer, "But I advise you to not try that again." Then let her go.
Michael pinches the bridge of his nose to ward off an incipient headache. "Look. Regardless of where each of us came from, we're all here for the same reason -- to keep the corruption flowing out of the Worldwound from spilling over into the rest of the continent. That means we all need to shelve our personal politics no matter how much we may disagree with them. If ever there was a case where the enemy of your enemy is your ally, this is it."
Having had his say, he turns back to the dusk-skinned woman beside him. "Well said. I'm Michael, by the way - Michael Carenae."
"...Aliyah El-Amin," the girl responds in that quiet but slightly musical voice of hers.
"Mebbe yer right, lass...but I'd much rather be cheerful and in full control o' meself at the same time." the dwarf answers, staring at the mug in front of him.
Isaac accepts Drake's explanation, but obviously not happily. Indeed, even those who would do evil are tolerable when they are constrained by law. As long as you are here to uphold order, we are companions.
In response to Drake's remark about Armasse, Indeed, I have not been a man long enough to have enjoyed the times when Armasse was a day of preparation and renewal. I remember them fondly, though, albeit only from my history books. Now it seems Armasse is little more than an excuse for everyone to forget their duty and ignore the threat bearing down upon us.
Desna smiles. Looks like there will be no confrontation here tonight. Might as well sit down again
Konny looks for a seat and picks a place next to a strange looking fellow. Overhearing the conversation with the a serving girl he sits next to he man.
Do you mind me sitting here? Name's Konny, Konny Hammerhead. I had no idea they give the first half mug free. Do you think they would mind me not ordering any more after that? he says cheerfully.
There are too many side conversations for Reinnwulf to keep up, but he did his best. It seemed as if his "enlightened" view of the world was till somewhat restricted. Still and all, the aasimar Michael had it right.
"True that is. We're here for the same reasons, and those reasons are good. To stem the tide of corruption. To fight with claw and steel against the enemy. To drink at the end of the day to fallen comrades and the fall of our enemies. Yol Bolson!"
As he said the last, he raised his tankard high and quaffed it in a single long draught.
The tiefling pipes up at the mention of Aroden, "Eight years? I believe that it has been more then 100. The god of mankind was last heard of in 4606. Most believe that he is dead, while others hold out hope that he is still alive or will be reborn once again. The Inheritor herself has been quite cross with the Lady of Graves for not telling her what became of her Commander."
The tiefling looks distracted for a moment after talking, he features seem to droop slightly talking about the dead god.
Maximillian notes the tinge of sadness in the tiefling's face. "You seem to have some memories of times past. Were you in Cheliax when Aroden still held sway over that land?" He was becoming more willing to linger in this rough tavern that had drawn an increasingly exotic crowd.
Nenthil took a seat and removed a tome to look through, he was currently penning a few himself. He wondered if they would one day make it into Blackwing.
Barundar nods in Reinnnwulf's direction, lifting his tankard along with the large Ulfen, though he doesn't down the beverage in one swig, instead continuing to nurse the drink as he had been doing.
"I'll share a drink wit' ye, Northman, boot a'd rather share it wi' comrades kept from falling, maself."
|
Paladin, the laws of Cheliax are no more restrictive than those you cheerfully follow. As for state sanctioned sacrifices, it would be highly unlikely to involve the Grymhaldt's. We were neither diabolist nor criminals.
Regarding slavery, some people are simply born to serve. It gives them purpose in life. My family's halflings were much happier and better treated than the "free" servants in Taldor or Absolom.
Nenthil looks up from his reading at the woman, his normally clear eyes are passed by a shadow. A happy slave is ether ignorant or a practiced actor. He chose not to reply. One could argue her parents were born to die by demonic hands. He knew better then to cut an unhealed wound, Sarenrae could yet redeem her.
"I respect the opinions of others. But theories abound are nether fact or truth. Best leave it at that and enjoy the night. Dawn comes swiftly, welcomed or not. I for one welcome it."
He gives a courteous smile before returning to his tome.
Arriving noticeably late, Jaali Vors enters the Defender's Heart, straightening his leather armor to appear more respectable to the others. As he enters the inn (noticeably limping), he makes sure his holy symbol is safely hidden under his clothes, so as not to attract any unwanted attention.
As he makes his way through the room, he racks his brain for any information on the various religions, important people, and odd races that are here as well as having a watchful eye out for any danger.
Looking around, he tries to find the right person to strike a conversation with, ordering an ale from a nearby waitress. After he recieves his ale, he makes a decsion and, strengthning his resolve, approaches the angelic-looking paladin and the young woman he's talking to. When he reaches them, he takes a deep breath, extends his hand, and says, "Hello. My name is Jaali Vors of Taldan. I wanted to make sure I was in the right place and ask some questions to get an idea of what's to come."
Outside the inn, a broad Ulfen man finishes tying his horse's bridle to a hitching-post. "There you go," he mutters, patting the beast's neck reassuringly. "I won't be long, alright? Just a drink, then we'll get you stabled for the night. Be a good girl and wait for me." Without another glance at the horse's sad expression, he heads inside, swinging off his cloak as he does so.
The heavy wool garment slings easily over his arm, revealing a broad shield on his broad back, the crudely-painted death spiral chipped and faded after many a beating. A longsword hangs at his hip, with a long hilt to accomodate a large hand, and several marks on the blade - a sword that has seen many years. His hair and beard are both long and thick, both deep gold, both turning grey with age. His height is an impressive 6'4", yet his breadth and bulk are what draws the eye. He sheds his helmet, tucking it under one arm, accidentally bumping a smaller man in the shoulder as he does so . He mutters an apology, holding up his free hand briefly, then heads to the bar for an ale. Finding few free seats, he elects to stand against a wall as he drinks slowly, looking for all the part like a watchful giant.
The heavy wool garment slings easily over his arm, revealing a broad shield on his broad back, the crudely-painted death spiral chipped and faded after many a beating. A longsword hangs at his hip, with a long hilt to accomodate a large hand, and several marks on the blade - a sword that has seen many years. His hair and beard are both long and thick, both deep gold, both turning grey with age. His height is an impressive 6'4", yet his breadth and bulk are what draws the eye. He sheds his helmet, tucking it under one arm, accidentally bumping a smaller man in the shoulder as he does so . He mutters an apology, holding up his free hand briefly, then heads to the bar for an ale. Finding few free seats, he elects to stand against a wall as he drinks slowly, looking for all the part like a watchful giant.
Update: When Jaali was entering the inn, he was bumped in shoulder by someone. He turned and stared in shock and awe at the giant of man behind him. He stared at him for a few seconds before realizing that the man apologized. "I-it's quite alright, sir. I wasn't paying attention. New here, you know?" As the man left, he noticed how well armed the man was. From the armor wore to the weapons he wielded, it made the man have an aura of a battled-hardened warrior. He then looks at the quarterstaff in his right hand, his damaged left leg, and his simple, worn leather armor. He then thought to himself, Dear Aroden, what have I gotten myself into?
"I simply didn't see you there. Old eyes aren't what they used to be," the Ulfen man chuckles with a slight accent, gesturing to his own face. He glances the smaller man over, seeing him try to tuck something into his clothes. "And I seem to have a blind spot for shorter folk, especially in crowded places like this. What are you trying to hide there, son? Some are like to think you're up to no good."
He seems to realize he'd forgotten his manners, and extends a large hand, glauntleted in thick leather and scale. "The name's Jens, by the way. Jens Varmodsson. I heard there was jousting tomorrow, and thought it would be a good idea to see what my old girl's got in her." He nods toward the doors, in the general direction of the hitching-post. "What brings yourself to Kenabres? Armasse, I assume?"
Jaali's eyes widen in shock and horror as he clutches his holy symbol tighter. He knows! What do I do now?! If I tell him, he might think I'm crazy! He snaps out of his shock when the man- Jens - introduces himself and asks his question. "My name is Jaali Vors. I'm from Taldan." He says with a small nervous smile, reaching to shake Jen's hand, gauntled in simple, worn leather in contrast to the finer leather of the man in front of him. His palm is exposed, showing signs of hard labor, tanned and calloused. "Can't say that I've seen a joust before. It sounds like an interesting experience.
At Jens's question, Jaali's brow furrows a bit. "Armasse?", he mutters to himself. A few seconds later, realization flashes across his face. "Oh, the festival! No, my reasons for being here are more...spiritual," he says, hesitating for a moment.
He looks down at the object dangling from his neck, sighs, and lifts it to show Jens his holy symbol. He then regales Jens in a hushed whisper about the events that brought him here. After his tale, he sighs and says in a defeated voice, "I just thought that if anyone saw my symbol, they might think I'm crazy or something of the like. But then again, I'm hearing the voice of the dead God of Humanity, who chose me for no explained reason to be his herald, giving me powers that he hardly explained how to use, never explaining what I need to do other than reestablishing his religion. So here I am, miles away from home, confused and scared, wondering why he chose me, when there are greater and more powerful people he could have chosen. I mean, I'm just a human farmer with the minor ability to make fruit ripen with a touch. I'm not a warrior like you. What am I supposed to do?"
Jaali then realizes his rambling and blushes while saying, "Sorry, I've been rambling about my problems. Heh. I just needed to vent."
[dice=Perception]1d20+4
Vaelor caught the little Gnomes hand and quietly said, "Nothing thank you." He leaned in closer, "But I advise you to not try that again." Then let her go.
Paladin, the laws of Cheliax are no more restrictive than those you cheerfully follow. As for state sanctioned sacrifices, it would be highly unlikely to involve the Grymhaldt's. We were neither diabolist nor criminals.
Regarding slavery, some people are simply born to serve. It gives them purpose in life. My family's halflings were much happier and better treated than the "free" servants in Taldor or Absolom.
Weyland looks on Dorotea with horror and disgust, "Slavery is abhorrent and evil. Keeping slaves is a crime in nearly every nation and a hangable offence. Your acceptance of such a vile practice more than proves my point. Cheliax corrupts all those who dwell within it. Evil must be vanquished when it can be and endured when it cannot, but never it must never be accepted. Cheliax's fall from grace is humanity's greatest failing and we faithful of Iomedae will see it restored to its rightful glory. To see Aroden's gift so corrupted tears at my heart, but it shall rise again. None are so far in the shadow that they cannot be brought to the light."
Michael tunes out the heated discussion between the Chelaxian and his fellow paladin with a brief but fervent internal prayer.
Iomedae, Inheritor, bright example of the best in all of us, grant your servant the wisdom to keep from antagonizing a major ally, preferably before they're required to watch each other's backs during battle...
He then turns to nod at the young man in farmer's clothing. "I'll be glad to answer any questions I can, friend. What do you wish to know?"
"Friend, your point is a good one. The House of Thrune should be removed from power, but to destroy it without thought to the aftermath is worse than leaving them in power now. Those paladins who serve the House of Thrune know this, and work to keep the people of Cheliax safe for the day when their diabolic patron can be removed. My father has ridden with several from that land since he came here, and he has always brought his association with Asmodeans back to the same point. You can make a deal with a devil and trust that it will hold to the letter of it. A demon can never be trusted." With that, he snags a glass of water from a passing waitress and takes a sip, letting the noise of the various conversations pass over him before turning to Nenthil.
"It is I who am honored. I confess, I've never before spoken with one of the blessed kin. My name is Enshi Gibil. What brings you to the Crusades?"
Aaliyah finds herself, rather to her own surprise, giving Weyland a rather chilly look herself. "That's a rather dismissive attitude to a situation that's more complicated than you realize. You can't just walk into a situation with the assumption that everybody involved in something you don't like is the problem."
Jaali, on the other hand, is just getting wary glances out of the corner of her eye.
Desna smiles. Looks like there will be no confrontation here tonight. Might as well sit down again
Konny looks for a seat and picks a place next to a strange looking fellow. Overhearing the conversation with the a serving girl he sits next to he man.
Do you mind me sitting here? Name's Konny, Konny Hammerhead. I had no idea they give the first half mug free. Do you think they would mind me not ordering any more after that? he says cheerfully.
"Not at all friend, order to your hearts content."
Jens nods politely as he listens to Jaali's story, but he sighs inwardly Hearing the voice of Aroden? Good gods, he can't be right in the head. He smiles warmly as the lad finishes talking though, clapping a large hand gently on his shoulder. "Well son, unfortunately there's not much I can do to help you. Perhaps now that you're here, you'll find someone who can help you reestablish Aroden's faith, mmm?" Poor lad must be crazy. Wouldn't do to discourage him, though.
"A warrior? Aye, I was once. That was years ago. As you can see, I'm getting too old for such things, though. I've accepted my fate, and I await the Boneyard when it's my time. I've had a good life." His voice becomes quieter as he speaks, dropping to match the overall tone of the room. He smiles at the young man, but the line of his mouth is hard, and his eyes seem to stare into the distance. He shakes his shaggy head, seeming to snap out of a reverie.
"If you need to vent, get it off your chest. It doesn't do to carry such burdens around. If I were you, though, I'd do a better job of hiding that symbol of yours. There are those who would see it as heresy. Though I suppose you'll be the one to show them when Aroden returns, eh?" With a smile and a wink, he claps the younger man on the shoulder again. "You take care of yourself, son. Now, who do I have to see about getting another ale...?" He turns in the direction of the bar, frowning slightly. The conversation about slaves briefly catches his attention, and he can't help snorting (perhaps a little too loudly) at one woman's claim that her family's slaves were "happy". Spoken like a true Chelaxian. Damn the lot of those devil-worshippers.
With that, he snags a glass of water from a passing waitress and takes a sip, letting the noise of the various conversations pass over him before turning to Nenthil.
"It is I who am honored. I confess, I've never before spoken with one of the blessed kin. My name is Enshi Gibil. What brings you to the Crusades?"
Looking up from his book.
"Kenabres is where I grew up. I went abroad to study and get away from certain unpleasantness, both personally and generally concerning demons. I have recently returned to do what I can with what I have learned. Yourself?"
Be very careful Paladin, in your zeal you would break the laws of a sovereign nature, sow chaos, and destroy the lives of tens of thousands of innocents. I should think your code of honor addresses all those issues.
Those who have not lived in Cheliax often have misconceptions. We are, for a most part, a peaceful nation with happy citizens. Perhaps one day you should visit with your eyes open before passing judgement based on rumors and preconceptions.
Enshi, you are correct in your assessment of the Asmodeans. Once they never break the letter of their given word. The filth that spills from the Worldwound, however, will consume us all unless stopped.
Reinnwulf looked at the sword-dancer intensely. Something about her seemed very familiar. "Lass, you speak true. Everything is more complicated than we realize, and many things are intertwined. As an example, in any small patch of woods you will find birds, animals, and insect. Wolves are dangerous, but they help keep the deer herds from overrunning the area. Bees sting, but they help make our plants grow and thrive. "
He paused, "I swear by Erastil's horns that I know you from somewhere. Have we met before? Perhaps in The Riverlands? Or maybe Andoran? I was a bodyguard there for a while, before I got bored."
Finally spying an open seat, and giving up on his quest for ale, Thomas Moves over and takes a seat next to a Dwarf (Konny Hammerhead, I'm just going to assume it's you)
Who expected this might excitement before Armasse? Ops, I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself, Thomas Vinland, Shield of Desna at your service.
A barmaid walks over and asks if we need anything. Finally I would like an ale, but nothing overly large, do you need anything my friend? Looking at Konny.
Michael takes a deep breath. Inheritor, give me strength...
"Things are always more complicated," he replies to Aaliyah. "But to a Paladin, all things start out from a single, simple concept: Slay. Evil. Swiftly. "
"The Inheritor calls upon us to speak for the oppressed and stand against injustice -- all injustice. It's not just difficult for us to overlook it; it skirts dangerously close to breaking our oaths to even try to do so."
He turns to look at Dorotea. "And make no mistake, my Lady, the keeping of sentient beings as property is an injustice, no matter whether you attempt to justify it with tradition or a philosophy that some people are born to be enslaved. This does not make Cheliax a festering pit devoid of any merit whatsoever -- and the situation in Cheliax is in fact preferable to, say, Galt -- but that particular aspect is not one to take pride in, and I fear that sooner or later we may well find ourselves in conflict over the issue... Although I would prefer a battle of words and ideas over physical force; the latter tends to be harsh on innocents caught in the middle."
"That said, however..." he continues, looking directly at Weyland. " One of the hardest lesson we struggle to learn is that immediate, direct and often violent action is not always the best response, and often causes more harm in the long run than it prevents. Evil may be an affliction, but diseases need to be treated with the correct medicine. Sometimes all the patient needs is strong broth and bed rest while their body recovers on its own; sometimes a more powerful cure is called for; and only in the worst cases does it come down to hacking off the afflicted limb and pray that the cure isn't worse than the disease. This requires patience, observation, and the wisdom to use both before acting."
He once again turns to regard the others, spreading his arms to indicate everyone. "However, if we fail to stop the incursion coming at us from the Worldwound, none of that will matter. We all know that; it's why we've all come here. So in the name of fighting the greater threat, I would ask us all to at least try and keep our politics to ourselves. At least for now."
"My father brought us here four years ago when he came to join the Crusades. He's a, uh, paladin of some note. I'm, uh, following in his footsteps, I suppose." Enshi swallows as he tells his tale. Oh, gods, Father will be so mad I didn't give his ... I better not muck this up.
Turning to the woman, Enshi will interject, "Misconceptions go both ways, Miss. It is often the case that members of the nobility, as you seem to be, have misconceptions about members of the "lower" classes. In my homeland, there are tales of a Pharaoh in ages past who put on peasant garb and smeared himself with mud from the River Sphinx so he could walk the streets of Sothis unknown to his people. What he saw there shocked and astounded them, for many of his peasantry did not know what their Pharaoh looked like, and lived much harder lives than his advisors had led him to believe. When he returned, he began to change the laws, and to make life easier on his people, as best he could." Enshi takes a deep drink of his water.
"It may be that your halfling slaves were treated better than most. But keep an open mind, because it may be possible that many in your land lead harder lives than you realize. I have heard stories that would put your claim of Cheliax as a peaceful nation to the test. My father once brought a Nidalese wizard home to dinner who had spent time in your country. Westcrown, and a place called Devil's Perch. The stories he told of your land were ... discomfiting." Gesturing to Drake, [b]"From what I have heard, one such as he would always be second to one such as yourself, merely because of his birth." Why am I babbling like this? Dawnflower, please preserve me from the folly of my own tongue. Father will be so disappointed if I get into a fight here.
Jaali looks up at his newfound friend and smiles a geniune smile. As Jens leaves, Jaali thinks to himself, Thank you, friend. May Aroden watch over you and protect you.
As Jaali approaches, he nods slightly in the woman's direction. He then turns to the armored man and says,"Yes, but I would like to know the names of my future companions. Since I'm a simple farmer from Taldor, I know little of this Worldwound. Could you explain the nature of it?" He thens looks towards some of the other patrons and asks, "I also would like to know about some of the other patrons here, specifically the gods they may worship, if they show it. Since I'm not really one for religion, I would like to know." As the man addresses the Cheliaxian woman, he stays silent, looking for any ill intentions from the woman.
As the man address the inn, he looks in awe at the man before him. He seems to be a natural at this. It's almost like second nature to him. After the man finishes his speech, Jaali pauses for a moment in deep thought. He then asks in a hushed whisper, "Could you also tell me what you know of...Aroden?"
Kayla just shrugs at the non order. you sure sir. there are some good wines avaialble.
as the dwarf joins him.
you here for the free half mug sir? no problem, I'll be right back
Kayla does a few back flips away from the table toward the bar. landing on her feet just a few feet away.
looking around for another half full mug she makes a move to swipe it for the dwarf.
confident she was not cuaght she dances her way through some of the crowd and places the Mug in front of the dwarf.
here ya go sir, on the house
Aaliyah blinks, a little startled. "I did pass through Almas briefly, about two months ago, to join up with the caravan that eventually came here." she admits.
Aaliyah listens to him talk, and seems about to respond, when suddenly Enshi's speech seems to set something in the girl off and she starts to retreat into the crowd again.
Weyland listens politely, but with disapproval stamped on his face. "Well the next time I see a demon I'll be sure to offer it a big bowl of soup to see if it stops being evil. Iomedae teaches us that to pass on an opportunity to right a wrong is a sin and I will never stand idle when there is a chance to do good."
Cheliax is under the sway of Asmodeus and Asmodues is evil. You cannot stand here and tell me that a prince of hell has the best interest of his subjects at heart. As a worshiper of the Inheritor, my first goal is to stamp out evil and injustice wherever I find it. Devils and devil worshipers are evil, though I realize not all citizens of Cheliax are evil. We who are good and just must stand as an example to show the downtrodden that there is a better way, it is they who deserve a chance to reclaim their true heritage. To sit back and hope that things will get better on their own goes against everything I and my faith stand for. All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing."
Barundar raises his half-full tankard of ale in Michael's direction. "Spoken lik' a true paladin; ye hae a gift fur wurds. We kin sit 'ere 'n' ballyhoo th' merits 'n' shortcomings o' oor homelands all night, but ah doubt any minds wull be changed 'ere. Ah cam tae slay demons 'n' protect th' innocent all ower Golarion, nae argie politics. Th' rest kin hauld it's horses."
Looking to Weyland, he again raises his gravelly voice. "The Worldwound is a bigger, closer problem. As ye say, let's go bloody weel dae somethin' aboot it."
Isaac would normally be sticking his nose in everyone's business, looking for some injustice to root out, but the frustration of Armasse has caused him to take to brooding. Besides, it seems that there are other good, lawful folk to deal with the philosophical debates. Isaac knew full well that he didn't have the brains to deal with that. Rather than drink, Isaac simply stands aside, keeping an eye on the tiefling. Waiting, watching. If he's honest with himself, he's hoping that someone will cause trouble. At least it would be something to do until the next foray into the Worldwound.
"Is it better to kill a demon, ridding the world of its presence here so it can respawn in the Abyss and come back another time, or is it better to convert that demon to being a servant of the light? And the issue is much the same with people. Kill one worshiper of evil, and you end the threat of that person. But he may be replaced by those who view you as the oppressor. Show them the light, and bring them to your cause, and you've not just decreased the opponents forces by one, but increased your own by one."
Enshi will finish his water and hold it up to attract the attention of a server. "I agree that the Prince of Hell is evil, and undoubtedly has his own designs regarding Cheliax. But that is the next Crusade. We are here, as is our cause. My apologies if my talk of philosophy is boorish. I believe I can say we are all brothers in opposing the Abyss. Let us raise a toast to a new dawn, and the light it shall bring."
"Such serious talk on the eve of Armasse! I was expecting a much rowdier party then this!"
You look over to see the source of the voice to be from a rugged looking man with a wide brimmed hat, a Taldane accent evident on his tongue. His blonde hair visible from under the hat and unkempt facial hair proclaiming him as a traveler. You however get the impression that his rugged look is by design, not by accident.
A silver scimitar hangs loosely at his side accompanied by an unusual looking compass. He swaggers over to the bar, spots Aaliyah and Dorotea and slides over to them. "Desna smiles on me, two lovely ladies in such close proximity. Allow me to buy you both a drink!"