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18+ The Last Dragonborn

Discussion in 'Skyrim Roleplaying' started by Zelda, Feb 28, 2017.

  1. Specter of Death

    Specter of Death Forum Moderator
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    He didn't look at the pair, but Thorriniir heard it all--not that it would have been overly difficult to hear any of it. The woman's scream echoed through the valley and her stomps into the inn shook the floor Thorriniir sat on. He looked up in the direction of the remaining man, who stood stunned. A short and quiet whine escaped from Meadow's throat and Thorriniir took a longer puff from his pipe.

    "Feel free to smoke out here then, ay?" Thorriniir chuckled charmingly. He took another long drag, and let out the smoke in a heavy breath, "take it you've been on the road together in that wagon for a little while, yeah?"

    He popped his neck once again, tonguing the flavors of the smoked plant onto the roof of his mouth. Thorriniir scanned the man. Large, lean, strong and powerful without any doubt, with origins in some sort of nobility judging on his attire. Likely Imperial or more likely Breton based on the armor design and sword-craft. His jewelry was also reminiscent of High Rock artistry Thorriniir had seen before. He was also noticeably weaker, or drained. The exhaustion that showed on his face was something Thorriniir had seen and felt many times before.
     
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  2. Zelda

    Zelda Princess of Hyrule

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    Silence is all Valencia expressed between the two who were obviously in the heat of an argument. When Rolard first appeared by their side, distress formed on the knight's face. He was still very ill, and seemed as if he could barely stand - which Ihylin did not hesitate to address. The white-haired yet youthful knight was willing to divide the two from each other, but she did not. She knew, from her time being with the woman, that it was best to let her rant. Besides: she did agree with her. His well being was at-stake, and it too made her upset.

    Of course, she could only imagine the amount of anger that boiled and bubbled in the veins of Lady Sweetwater. By her shouts and accusations - enough to wake a sleeping mammoth - she was extremely frustrated with the man. Nonetheless, the entire time she told the man off, Valencia stayed silent, allowing her to vent. With the entire town involved now, the moment she slammed the inn-door closed, people went about their business.

    Valencia knew she had to stay with the caravan - she was practically the only person viable to be on duty - so she couldn't go far. She did not plan to leave the front of it; however, she heard a voice speak to Lord Seton. "Feel free to smoke out here then, ay?" She could not see the man from her angle, but considering Lord Seton was not alarmed, it was a normal townsman.

    The knight jumped down from the caravan, her armor clanging lightly, before she rose. She was alert to her surroundings, but felt at ease being in the town. She walked around to the see the man with a quite adorable companion by his side, while smoking a reed. She placed a hand behind Lord Seton on his back, placing another on his chest plate.
    "I do apologize, love, but this trouble maker will not be smoking any more under his condition. He never even thanked me for letting him sneak one earlier," she mused, giving a small smile while patting his back. "But yes, we have been on a long journey. Not too long, but... long enough." She responded, removing her hands from Rolard.

    @Hart @Specter of Death @Keidivh
     
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  3. Keidivh

    Keidivh Noble exile of High Rock

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    A small chuckle escaped the Breton knight as he made a small jest at his own health's expense. In truth he had a few of his own to spare, but they were far to precious to waste when he was simply feeling a bit ill. When he plundered ruins or escorted merchants there quite often wasn't anyone around to provide him with help should he be fatally wounded it was up to himself to take care of it. He wasn't looking to become reliant on others now, and he certainly wasn't looking to burden Ihylin further by using up her supplies. It was simply the way things had to be..

    Or perhaps not as the auburn haired Nord let out a scream that would have frozen a frost troll in its tracks. Rolard could only watch breathlessly as Ihylin hopped off the cart and stormed towards him, her tired eyes once more holding a fiery spark in them. It must have been quite a sight for the townspeople, watching a small Nordic girl shove a burly Breton warrior while screaming at him. Given his state, there was little he could do besides take it, struggling to keep his balance even from the small shove. Though considering it was Ihyl it wasn't as if he'd do anything about it to begin with.

    A slight frown formed on his face as she reminded him of how he cut off ties from her. It was only made worse to know that due to his sickness he had been more of a burden on this journey than anything else. If it were any other Rolard wouldn't think much of it, but to do that to Ihylin and in the presence of Val the Brave. Another strike against what little dignity and honor he had left.

    There was one thing she said though that made all the screaming and poking fade from his attention.

    "I didn't stop caring, you stupid, idiotic pile of troll dung!"

    Heh, well I'll be damned. Even after all the plopse I've put her through, she still cares. Even as she gave him another small shove, Rolard couldn't help but give a small smile towards the feisty silversmith. Embarrassment be damned, he'd let her scream at him a hundred times more if he got to hear that again.

    "And don't smoke inside my caravan!" Were her kind words of parting before promptly slamming the inn door. It only caused him to snicker as he brought his pipe back up to his mouth as he spoke in under his breath.

    "No promises mi'lady." As he took a long drag from his pipe, he overheard one of the nearby townsfolk speak up. Unsurprisingly the whole fiasco caught his interest. Looking over to the steps he saw the man speaking to him. Whoever this was, they were certainly no simple townsman. He was covered in animal furs, which Rolard safely assumed he acquired himself. A gruff, ashy, rugged beard grew on his face in stark contrast to his own neatly kept one, and his hair could be more likened to a wild animals mane than a proper hairstyle. His equipment, while at first may look to be nothing special were all of exquisite make and painstakingly cared for. Perhaps the most interesting thing about him was his companion. A coyote if Rolard remembered correctly, definitely not the most common of animal companions. A true man of the wilds if I've ever seen one.

    Before he managed to utter a word to the man however Valencia was beside him, intent on keeping him out of any further trouble. "Oh, a troublemaker now am I?" He asked in a bemused tone. While normally he would be irked by this type of treatment, it was simply so odd that it was coming from Valencia, a knight he deeply respected, that he couldn't help but laugh.

    "Well let me thank you now dearest Val for allowing me to smoke earlier. And let me apologize for what I'm about to do." With a sly grin, Rolard made his way over to the stairs of the inn at a slow pace, easing himself down next to the savage looking stranger. The coyote must have been well trained, as it didn't even utter a growl towards him.

    "My thanks for the invitation stranger. Aye, we've been on the road for a good while. And as my good companion suggested we're ready to be done with it." Taking another puff from his pipe, Rolard reached into one of the pouches attaches to his hip, pulling out some Razor Weed and offering it to the man. "Friends call me Rol, you can call me the same if ya like. So what brings you to Dragon Bridge Nord? You don't look like the type who spends a great deal of time in towns or cities."

    @Hart @Zelda @Specter of Death
     
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  4. Specter of Death

    Specter of Death Forum Moderator
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    "This trouble maker will not be smoking any more under his condition. He never even thanked me for letting him sneak one earlier," the now visable female knight spoke in response to Thorriniir's words, patting the man on his back, "But yes, we have been on a long journey. Not too long, but... long enough."

    Thorriniir raised a single eyebrow at the woman's words. Her sudden appearance was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Thorriniir hadn't been around people who intrigued him in ages, so he was somewhat excited about the new appearance. He watched the breton man roll his eyes at the woman, shrugging her off with a tone of amusement, "well let me thank you now dearest Val for allowing me to smoke earlier. And let me apologize for what I'm about to do."

    The man's voice matched his appearance, as did the woman's, and Thorriniir was rather surprised by the jolliness in the breton's tone. He looked undoubtedly unhealthy, but despite all of that he didn't let it drain away his personality or charisma--something the nord enjoyed about people. Anyone who can hold their own against hardship, injury, illness or disadvantage while still keeping a jolly attitude and a willingness to smile and jest was a positive influence in life--positivity that Thorriniir had seldom seen these days. As the man plopped himself down next to him, he too whipped out his own pipe, and pulled a small pouch off of his belt to begin packing it.

    "My thanks for the invitation stranger. Aye, we've been on the road for a good while. And as my good companion suggested we're ready to be done with it," his tone remained friendly and open with a welcoming smile, as he held out the pouch of what Thorriniir smelled to be Razor Weed. Thorriniir nodded and grinned, dipping his hand in for a small pinch of the herb, setting it into the bowl of his pipe and packing it down firm once more with his thumb.

    "Well, it's a pleasure to run into some fine folk here," Thorriniir warmly replied to both the man and the woman by the carriage, taking out his own herb pouch and offering it to the breton, "Thanks for sharing, friend. I'm Thorriniir, friends call me Thorrin or Thorr. And this little lady here, is Meadow."

    Thorriniir reached down haphazardly and mussed the hair on top of his companion's panting head, which she responded to with an annoyed whine followed by a gentle nip at his fingers. The breton man nodded in acceptance, before presenting his response. "Friends call me Rol, you can call me the same if ya like. So what brings you to Dragon Bridge Nord? You don't look like the type who spends a great deal of time in towns or cities."

    Thorriniir chuckled at the man's assertion. He could never deny that it was obvious he wasn't a city-goer, and he found it funny just how easy it was for him to forget how out of the ordinary he must look to the more civilized township. "I forget it's easy to tell I look like a wild-man. We're just a couple of Rangers, hunting and helping those in need. We don't often go into big cities much, given my appearance and her....being a wild and "feral" looking animal. Might I ask you both the same question? What are the three of you, tired and emotional as you are, doing traveling by carriage, and stopping in Dragon's Bridge of all towns?"
     
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  5. Keidivh

    Keidivh Noble exile of High Rock

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    As the Nord introduced himself, a grateful nod was given to the savage looking ranger as Rolard took a pinch of his own mixture of herbs while dumping out the contents of his pipe. Lighting it, he found the herbs had a distinct earthy flavor the Breton had never encountered before. It was rather refreshing. It wouldn't have been a surprise if the man beside him had picked the herbs himself recently.

    "I forget it's easy to tell I look like a wild-man. We're just a couple of Rangers, hunting and helping those in need. We don't often go into big cities much, given my appearance and her....being a wild and "feral" looking animal. Might I ask you both the same question? What are the three of you, tired and emotional as you are, doing traveling by carriage, and stopping in Dragon's Bridge of all towns?"

    While looking like a savage, he found the Nord sitting beside him to be quite well spoken. Warm even. Not something one would expect from a person who spends so much time in the wilds, as they tend to lose their aptitude in socializing. This Thorriniir fellow didn't seem to have any such troubles. Rolard didn't take much at face value, but he would concede that this man seemed a decent enough sort.

    "Well that's honorable work you do Thorrin. I suppose you could say my friend and I are swords for hire. We were just helping our soft spoken employer who just barged into the inn make her way to Solitude in one piece. Asides from a few highwaymen picking a fight in which they were sorely outmatched and myself getting a touch ill, it's gone fairly well."

    Of course Rolard left out the bits about Valencia nearly skewing him in the tent the night she realized who he was and the heated argument that followed. It was necessarily something a stranger needed to be privy to. He also made sure not to go in great detail describing either of his companions, preferring to let them speak for themselves.

    "We just stopped at Dragon Bridge to take a breather and get a hot meal before we finish our journey. And give the townspeople a little bit of entertainment." A wry smile formed on his face as he recalled the looks on some of the villagers faces. It was likely to be the talk of the town for a good couple weeks.

    A few moments of silence passed as the sickly warrior puffed out a ring of smoke before a thought occurred to him. If there was any that may have knowledge on this business of dragons it'd be a ranger. While they may not hear many rumors, they often have a good deal of knowledge about the wild and its denizens.

    "So Thorrin, being a ranger, have you caught glimpse of any of these dragons everyone has been talking about? It's caused quite the stir in Falkreath and Whiterun."

    @Specter of Death @Zelda @Hart
     
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  6. Zelda

    Zelda Princess of Hyrule

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    Despite the woman's words, the male dismissed her with an apology and walked over to the wild-looking townsman. Shaking her head, the white-haired youthful woman walked back over to the caravan, standing beside it, at guard. Her hand on her sword and her shield at the ready. She was calm, but focused. Besides; it would be a surprise if anything happened to the caravan in the small town. That, and only a fool would attempt a raid in such a place.

    She watched Rolard converse with the male on the stairs, smoking together as they chatted about who knows what. Most likely about the journey and about one another. Valencia assumed Lord Seton was simply happy to speak to a man after being with two women who only nagged to him. She let out a small smile, as she too felt the same when on duty with the Knights of the Rose. There were very few females, and whenever she had the chance, she was happy to speak to them. Of course she grew tired of the gossiping and judgement of women - she would, when spending time with the nobles, could not wait to get away from it. Especially when she could get away with Rodeyval to play games of chess and spar together...

    Drat. Her face scrunched a bit as she shook her head, attempting to push the thoughts away. However, her face began to burn at the thought of what happened prior. Had I truly asked Lord Seton such a damnable question!? How embarrassing... a knight of my respect should never speak in such a manner... on something so... so... pitiful. She watched a butterfly flutter nearby, going from flower to flower. A bird flew down - attempting to take it for a meal. However, the butterfly spread out its wings, revealing an array of colors and patterns. The bird quickly darted the other direction, intimidated by the beautiful creature.

    Am I a simple guise? She watched the butterfly slowly flutter its wings back, returning to its delicate duties. Did I earn my position because of my father? It worked safely beside the bees who fought for their hive other than itself. Because I was close with Rodeyval? Because I was charismatic? A child began to watch the butterfly as well. Yes I saved Rodeyval... but... The child stood up and began to chase the delicate butterfly, scaring it to fly. Am I truly worthy of my title? Of the weapon and shield I bear? The butterfly continued to dart around, the child picking up the speed. Is that why they sent me away to fail? Gone. The child caught the fragile beauty, crushing it in its hands. The child frowned, only to drop it on the ground and run off. Valencia only stared at the wrinkles and crushed mess that once was something considered beautiful and pure, scaring away the evil birds. But what it was not prepared for, was innocence of a child.

    She regained her posture, standing straight and tall. Just dark thoughts is all... they will leave soon... I am sure I earned my place... I am skilled enough, I think... She glanced back at the stranger and Rolard, wondering if Ihylin would return soon. Surely Valencia could use her healing powers? It was what saved her life. She doubted Rolard would sit still long enough for it, and Ihylin's idea of a potion would be more viable to force down the stubborn man.

    @Specter of Death @Keidivh @Hart
     
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  7. Specter of Death

    Specter of Death Forum Moderator
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    While Rolard's words filled Thorriniir's ears and he took them in, the nord's eyes wandered toward the knightly female by the cart. She seemed lost in thought--troubled even, before turning her back and making her way to the side of the cart that separated herself from him and his new ally. I wonder what she's about...

    Thorriniir turned back to glance at Rolard as he finished up his words, ending on a curious question. "So Thorrin, being a ranger, have you caught glimpse of any of these dragons everyone has been talking about? It's caused quite the stir in Falkreath and Whiterun."

    Thorriniir felt a hearty grin grow across his face in unison with a pang of excitement in his gut. Without saying a word, he turned to reach into on of the small pockets on the right of his waist to retrieve something. The ivory shard of bone was smooth in his hand, and almost hot to the touch--like it had been sitting on the edge of a fire. Following the bone, he dropped a gigantic tooth along next to it and stared into his hand for a moment to compare them. He turned to Rolard, maintaining a grin.

    "They are gigantic, gorgeous, deadly beasts," he led, dropping the tooth in Rolard's hand, "I picked these up off of the body of one that attacked in Whiterun Hold. Hit the western watchtower and took a few men with it from my understanding--but the beast fell eventually. I would have loved to have been a part of striking that thing down. I've seen a couple flying around the mountain peaks in the east as well; I'm not sure what threat they may present to us all, but even with all that raw power I haven't seen an attack since."

    Thorriniir watched Rolard move the bone between his fingers, holding it close and farther away from his eyes in examination. "Beautiful, right? The bones are incredibly durable and useful as well. In fact, if you'd like I could probably whip something up really quick for you to drink that might help your current state. And speaking of states, is your friend over there alright?"

    Thorriniir gestured in the direction of the caravan, and more accurately his companion.
     
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  8. Keidivh

    Keidivh Noble exile of High Rock

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    As Thorrin reached into his bag to procure something, Rolards attention wandered over back to the white haired knight standing guard. Although judging by the look on her face, her mind was far from focusing on guard duty. Her usually serene face was furrowed with what seemed like worry or doubt. The Breton followed her eyes to a butterfly that was dancing through the air. When was the last time he had even bothered to look at something so trivial? From the look on her face she certainly didn't seemed happy watching it, rather there was a forlorn look where there should have been joy.

    What troubles you so deeply White Knight? As he scratched at the stubble that had nearly formed into a short, scruffy beard during their journey the ex-knight's mind wandered back to the question Val had asked him but a few minutes ago in the cart. Is that what ailed her? Rolard was generally quite skilled at reading people, but he was certainly no mind reader. Perhaps we will have more to discuss than just that question alone when we speak next.

    When Val's deep sapphire eyes looked over to him and the ranger, the Breton's inquisitive look was replaced with an easygoing smile, giving a friendly nod.

    It was only now that the exile realized that Thorrinir had been talking to him as he felt a sudden weight in his hands. His azure eyes widened in awe, mouth slightly agape as he looked at what he now held. Dragonbone. His mind barely registered what the Nordic ranger was saying, but he managed to pick up a few bits and pieces as he twirled the remains in his hand. Namely that dragons were in the east. A barely noticeable smile of amusement appeared on Thorrins face as he watched the Breton marvel. He likely had the same reaction when he first laid eyes on it.

    "This is incredible... It's so light." Rolard stated as he continued examining the bone. Ihyl would love this.. At that thought, an idea ran trough the Breton's mind, one that would possibly get him back in the good graces of his old friend.

    "... if you'd like I could probably whip something up really quick for you to drink that might help your current state. And speaking of states, is your friend over there alright?" Glancing over at the scruffy Nord beside him, a small smile formed on his lips. Not many would simply offer their supplies to a stranger, especially a ranger who was likely in dire need of them himself.

    "You're offer is kind ranger, but I shall be fine. Solitude is but a short hike away, besides if I'm being honest, I actually have a couple potions of my own. Just didn't want to waste them." It was true, he did have potions of his own, but they were scarce. Two, maybe three health potions, a potion of stamina and not a single magicka potion. That's why he was so intent on simply toughing out illnesses and wounds the way he did. Healers and potions were expensive, especially in times of war.

    The ranger's inquiry made Rolard pause a moment. The Breton liked this man, he seemed a good enough sort. But he certainly wasn't going to start discussing his companions personal matters with him. "Val? She's fine, likely just exhausted from pulling double duty since I've been ill. I owe her a few Sweetrolls for that. Speaking of owing, I do believe I owe my dear employer an apology. This dragonbone here would certainly do the job. May I be so bold as to ask for a price?"

    @Specter of Death @Zelda @Hart
     
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  9. Hart

    Hart Well-Known Member

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    --Inside--

    "Faida, I just... don't understand men sometimes. How do they manage to be so arrogantly bull-headed and yet women still become mothers? If I had a septim every time I've been irritated since this trip started, I'd have a hefty coin pouch. Gods!" Huffing her indigence loudly, Ihylin leaned against the counter of the bar while the innkeeper hm'd absently, letting her blow off steam.

    She clicked the stirrer against the side of the pot. "You do realize you can just marry a woman, adopt a kid, and be done with it, right?"

    The silversmith could only shoot a withering glare in her direction. "That is not what this conversation is about. He's a childhood friend, I don't have feelings for him. He's probably already got a sweetheart in--" An invasive thought brought her statement to a halt, and she frowned. Rolard Seton, exiled noble, having a girl he was sweet on in Wayrest? Dangerous game to play with letters, perhaps. "When is the soup going to be done? I've got to get back on the road before the wildlife come out. Not to mention the moons are in full rotation. And werewolves are a thing..."

    "It's done. 65 septims for three mugs of soup and a healing potion. That it for you, dear?"

    "Aye." Ihylin plunked a bag of coins on the counter, quickly counting them out and passing them along. "Thanks for putting up with me again, Faida. My nerves are fried otherwise."

    "Don't mention it. Ah, before I forget, are you available for work in the next few days? I've got a necklace that I'd like to commission..."

    The two of them fell into a short business exchange before the merchant thanked her again, heading out into the cooling night out. For a brief moment, everything was as it was suppose to be her in life.

    -----------------------------------------------

    Ihylin frowned at the back of Rolard's head when she found him sitting on the steps, smoking with the ranger she'd stormed past earlier. Albeit she was far less angry than she had been minutes prior, the lingering storm of emotions still sat heavy in the back of her mind. She skirted past the two of them, setting a mug of potato leek soup and the potion next to him, and not bothering to even address him by name.

    "Drink them both." It wasn't a request.

    Making her way towards the caravan, she noted Valencia was at its side, staring off into the scenery, mind wandering in some other plane of Nirn. Pressing her lips in a thin line, the merchant settled against the side of the caravan with her, nudging the mug against her elbow gently. Her own fingers wrapped around the metal tightly. Warmth seeped into her skin as she was silent for a moment.

    "You have something on your mind," She stated simply. Ihylin wouldn't waste time getting to the point. "Lady Valencia, if you'd like to have a discussion over a cup of tea, I have quite a few varieties to choose from. A particular favorite of mine is a blend of mountain flowers and honeycomb. It does well to restore the mind."

    @Zelda @Keidivh @Specter of Death
     
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    #129 Hart, Feb 9, 2018
    Last edited: Feb 9, 2018
  10. Specter of Death

    Specter of Death Forum Moderator
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    Rolard's words were swift and to the point. Thorriniir respected the fact that he kept his companion's privacy, and appreciated his gesture of purchasing the fang from him. It had been some time since he last spoke with a genuinely decent person without them scoffing or brushing him off do to his rather unconventional look. Just before Thorriniir could begin concocting a response to Rolard's offer, the once screaming woman walked out of the tavern behind them with purpose. Her footsteps felt hard and determined on the wood that Thorriniir was perched on. She set a mug and a small red vial on the deck next to Rolard, muttering something sternly before making her way around to the woman on the side of the caravan.

    "Well it seems to me that the lot of you are a little," he paused, carefully playing with his vocabulary, "over it."

    Thorriniir grinned at Rolard after following the woman's pace away from them, then waved his hand at the Breton symbolically. "Consider it a gift. I have another piece for myself, and I trust that your....employer," he trailed off with a sliver of suspicion in his voice, "can make good use of it on her own. Take this as well, another gift."

    The Nord pulled out a small vial of black liquid and set it in Rolard's hand alongside the fang. "Just a small shot of a few uplifting and energizing herbs I frequently use. It's the only thing that can get me to keep up with this little one after a week of tracking," he reached down and mussed the fur on Meadow's head affectionately, which she promptly responded to with an annoyed chirp. "Shoot that back before you eat whatever lovely meal is in that mug, and it'll make you feel like a new man. Now if you'll excuse me a moment, I will be right back."

    Thorriniir quickly rose from his seated position on the deck, then set his pipe down and held a hand out signaling for Meadow to stay put. He casually walked his way over to the two woman, and pulled out two more vials of the same black liquid. He made sure to get their attention as he set the vials down on the seat of the caravan and shared a friendly, toothy smile.

    "Drink it quickly before you begin eating, it'll help your energy and mood. I'm Thorriniir by the way, pleasure to meet you both," he did nothing but nod in greeting, then turned back around to return toward the Tavern. He joined Rolard once more with a long exhale, and pulled out one last dark vial. He popped the cork, and shot it back in a single gulp, shaking his head in an attempt to remove the look of disgust on his face. Seconds after tucking away the cork and glass container, his pipe was back between his lips, and he began to drag stronger and longer than before in an attempt to cover the bitter and unpleasant flavor of the tincture. "It's as unpleasant as all Coldharbor, but worth it. Trust me."
     
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