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A predator walks in the Tavern
The wind kicks leaves across the cobbled roads and kisses the fur on his mane as he walks towards the familiar aroma of the local tavern. Looking side to side and observing all of the possible entrances and exits is just a common practice of his not because he needs a way to escape but because he wants to know where the prey is most likely to escape from. Pulling down his hood he makes his way into the tavern and pulls up a stool to the bar. Standing out among the sea of adventurers a 6ft+ Leonin Tulnar with sharp eyes and an even sharper wit. He motions over to the barkeep and drops a bag of gold on the bar, looks up, and growls in a low tone "A round for the tavern...it was a good hunt".
(Join in let's have a good time in the bar guys, introduce your characters, and let's chat. The link below is just the shortened YT vid of me coming up with the character.)
https://youtube.com/watch?v=8qJ6R0NOgVU&t=5s
(Join in let's have a good time in the bar guys, introduce your characters, and let's chat. The link below is just the shortened YT vid of me coming up with the character.)
https://youtube.com/watch?v=8qJ6R0NOgVU&t=5s
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"Come on into Kegs Bane Keep, and share your story."
As the drinks our poured, and the spirits are lifted, the tavern starts livening up, the previously quite conversations, are magnified into a bustling cacophony of sound, that resonates around the tavern. Leonin Turner (assuming that’s his name) seemed to be the life of the party with a huge stream of Adventurers around him, such was to be expected, after all he had brought almost as many golden opinions as real gold to the the tavern. Boasting a successful adventuring career not many could stand up to, he was by far the most obvious ‘big-shot’ around. But the most dangerous people are rarely at the centre of the party.
Among the continuously expanding crowds, not many managed to stand out. But such was not the case for Joarius, though not too tall in stature, it was his magnificent build that really raised eyebrows, the proportions, the size, all was on point with his chilled shape. He was the sort of figure that one could imagine some ancient statue being based upon. His brown eyes pierced the room searching for something, someone, in the warm light of the tavern they looked almost golden, full of energy, but also rich in wisdom. He wore light clothes, clothes that although didn’t posses fancy patters or marks, extorted a feeling of importance, of strength. To his left a short sword was covered by a similarly plain sheath, yet the handle, the only visible part, was greatly decorated with weird letters, or maybe numbers, really one had no way to tell for it was not a language that anyone knew. He sat there, carefully sipping beer, as one would sip maybe wine. He sat there sipping, still searching, uninterrupted by the load noises of those around him.