Valeros

Damthor's page

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rolls:
1d20 + 11 ⇒ (16) + 11 = 27 Perception

Damthor tenses up, noticing someone watching himself and Faelwen. He drags his hood back up as he snaps," F#&*ing...we were apparently followed!" He snarled quietly, eyes gleaming unhappily. He could see the hesitance in the kid to be seen but well too damn bad he'd gone and followed them like a f*&@ing puppy.

Damthor moved to grab him and drag him further into the alley to question him on why he was following them in the first place!


The big half breed turned, grunting softly when he spotted his much shorter companion. He downed the last of his drink before pushing the empty cup into some drunks hand and gesturing to her," You're easy to lose you know that?" Damthor shifted to stand closer to her despite the swirling crowd around them," I hate crowds. I ever mention that?"

Damthor felt caged in with so many people in one spot. He might be half humans but a lot of times humans pissed him off or made him the most uncomfortable. He gripped her shoulder, steering her towards a quieter part of town and ducked down a side alley where he could pull his hood down," So what are our chances of making it to the inn and getting a room for the night with all this going on?"


Damthor kept his hood down, and his cape arranged to hide as much of his tinted skin as possible. He didn't normally hide what he was but most smaller towns seemed nervous when a half breed wandered in, adventurer and potential source of gold or not. But he was here on a mission, and unfortunately one part of said mission was missing as he cursed Fealwen his breath for managing to get lost when they reached the village.

He was just thankful the small village seemed to have a pub. Which...was closed. He sighed heavily, eyeing the crowds of partying people and decided to simply mingle as much as he could and hopefully most of the drunk revelers would leave him be and not ask too many questions. He sidled through the people, trying not to bump too many of them despite his size. At least at one point someone shoved a stein into his gloved hands, so he wasn't totally bereft as he kept an eye out for his friend and partner.