Xedrik decides to stay back at Nowell's barn to groom the horses and look after tack. He prefers the cold loneliness of a musty old barn to the awkward social interactions and explanations about his visage.
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Xedrik takes the flagon and slams it down before licking his lips in satisfaction. Gratitude, he replies to Siondel. He reaches slowly into his bag and pulls out a nice cut of venison to offer it to the bear cub as a measure of thanks. If you accept the offer, stop by and see Tetta at Fates and Fortunes. She will be of the most help to you sir. Luck be with you. Xedrik begins to hobble slowly into the darkness, south towards the refugee camp.
Xedrik takes a long and uncomfortable look at each patron after passing them the handbill, almost as if making a visual recording of each person before turning slowly and heading towards the door. As he limps passed the bar, the barkeep speaks for the first time, yelling at him. Hey you goblin! I told you never to come back in here! Get out! The barkeep yells at Xedrik before throwing an empty tin flagon at him.
They call him an elf, but that is really hard to confirm given his hunched form and soot covered skin. His short and sizzled hair is the brighest red color ever seen. He quietly inspects patrons before reaching into his messenger bag and delivering a rolled-up hand bill. |