Modri
Hill Dwarf Outlander Wild Magic Barbarian
AC: 17 (+1Dex + 4Con + 2Shield ) | HP: 61/61 (4d12+16+8+1) | Speed: 25'
Senses: passive Perception 11, Insight 11, Investigation 10
Str: 16 (+3) | Dex: 13 (+1) | Con: 18 (+4) | Int: 10 (+0) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 8 (-1)
Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common, Dwarvish, Elvish
Rages: 3/3 | Magic Awareness: 2/2
Modri breathes out a sigh of relief as his legs step on the shore. It's not that he has a problem with water, and more that he wasn't so sure they'd be able to escape the Red Dragon Army. Oh, they're still on their way, he knows that much, but more that he wasn't sure if the refugees would get this far.
He doesn't intervene on Michelle's behalf. She can handle herself, and face her life decisions and life circumstances, and the Dwarf is no knight-in-shining armor. No, he's the kind who'll reach out a hand once someone has fallen on the ground, but he lets them fall first.
As he sees Meri head out into the water, the Dwarf follows, mostly just curious to see the natural-born swimmer in his element. Still, when there's some struggle, he's eager to help.
"Har! If you need something unstuck, I'm the man for the job. Just needs a good push." Perhaps for a different task an extra push would help, but as he start to grab at and try to unstuck the sail there's the sound of a tear, and a pop, and no small amount of creaking. "Er... you said you can ferry them, did you?"