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Falon

Falon

Rakath-Elspacer.png — Samurai Fighter 5

AC:
HP:
Speed:

16
34/44
30 ft.

Strength:
Dexterity:
Constitution:

8
18
14

(-1)
(+4)
(+2)

Intelligence:
Wisdom:
Charisma:

10
14
12

(+0)
(+2)
(+1)

Languages
Combat Proficiencies
Tool Proficiencies

As expected, the first thing that struck Rakath as he entered the establishment was the smell. The elf wrinkled his nose in poorly veiled disdain, but then reminded himself to abstain from judging humans too harshly for such minor shortcommings. As he pulled a chair to make himself comfortable, the birning pain in his left side also promted him to ignore the smell and focus on more pressing matters first. 'Goblin arrows might be crude, but they surely hurt just the same' he thought to himself as he carefully felt the wound with his palm.

"DeghnyahA common phrase for greetings in the solamnic language that is starting to bleed into the common tongue as well at least accross the lands close to Solamnia., master steward." The elf broke the short moments of silence with perfect solamnic accent, while eyeing at the barkeep. "A mug of your strongest Harvest ale to wash the Southroad of my gullet and some boiled cloth to fend me from bleeding on the floor of that fine tavern, if you please."

The words took the barkeep out of his usual feigned disinterest and he allowed himself a quick glare at the young Silvanesti before shuffling over a few steps to service part of his request. "Boy, tell your mother to fetch some linen bandage!" He snapped at one of the young boys cleaning dishes in the backroom. "A moment if you will... sir." The host stared at the newcommer onece again, trying to match the solamnic crest on his armor with the elven face right above.

"Armsmen!" Rakath threw his voice towards the group of soldiers in the back. "I'm afraid I have to be a bother, but one of you lads better make a dash and tell your captain that there are three dead goblins still bleeding ten miles ahead in the road to the South. They tend to flock together in bigger numbers so the evening patrol should be extra careful if you care for an advice" his tone firmly implied the importance of the request.

At last, he notticed the woman quietly sitting next to him book in hand. "M'lady." Rakath acknowledged Fairla's presence with a neck bow.

 

Falon

Falon

Rakath-Elspacer.png — Samurai Fighter 5

AC:
HP:
Speed:

16
34/44
30 ft.

Strength:
Dexterity:
Constitution:

8
18
14

(-1)
(+4)
(+2)

Intelligence:
Wisdom:
Charisma:

10
14
12

(+0)
(+2)
(+1)

Languages
Combat Proficiencies
Tool Proficiencies

As expected, the first thing that struck Rakath as he entered the establishment was the smell. The elf wrinkled his nose in poorly veiled disdain, but then reminded himself to abstain from judging humans too harshly for such minor shortcommings. As he pulled a chair to make himself comfortable, the birning pain in his left side also promted him to ignore the smell and focus on more pressing matters first. 'Goblin arrows might be crude, but they surely hurt just the same' he thought to himself as he carefully felt the wound with his palm.

"DeghnyahA common phrase for greetings in the solamnic language that is starting to bleed into the common tongue as well at least accross the lands close to Solamnia., master steward." The elf broke the short moments of silence with perfect solamnic accent, while eyeing at the barkeep. "A mug of your strongest Harvest ale to wash the Southroad of my gullet and some boiled cloth to fend me from bleeding on the floor of that fine tavern, if you please."

The words took the barkeep out of his usual feigned disinterest and he allowed himself a quick glare at the young Silvanesti before shuffling over a few steps to service part of his request. "Boy, tell your mother to fetch some linen bandage!" He snapped at one of the young boys cleaning dishes in the backroom. "A moment if you will... sir." The host stared at the newcommer onece again, trying to match the solamnic crest on his armor with the elven face right above.

"Armsmen!" Rakath threw his voice towards the group of soldiers in the back. "I'm afraid I have to be a bother, but one of you lads better make a dash and tell your captain that there are three dead goblins still bleeding ten miles ahead in the road to the South. They tend to flock together in bigger numbers so the evening patrol should be extra careful if you care for an advice" his tone firmly implied the importance of the request.

At last, he notticed the woman quietly sitting next to him book in hand. "M'lady." Rakath acknowledged Fairla's presence with a neck bow.

 

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