Gaerzil | HP 17/17 | AC 16 | Initiative +3 | Passive Perception 11
Spell Slots: 4/4
Active Effects: N/A
Gaerzil is honestly more surprised by the large number of other refugees crowding the gates than he is by the city's citizenry's selfish and hostile attitude. He hadn't realized there had been so many other groups on the road ahead of them, and honestly, that thought makes the young wizard a little annoyed. Here he was, one of the most promising spellcasters of his generation, eye witness to a breathtakingly powerful magical phenomenon, and yet he seems to be among the last of the survivors of Elturel's disappearance to reach civilization. The story must have found its way to Rivalen Blackhand and the other aspiring mages at Sorcerous Sundries by now. No doubt they would already be assembling an expedition to research the event first-hand. Gaerzil would have actually been in a better position to study the event if he'd never left this bloody city in the first place!
He's stewing on this unfair and unjust turn of events when the guards arrive to escort Keryn, himself, Gwen, and Hravin to see some Lords' Alliance mucky-muck or another. He follows, his mood too sour and his mind too focused on his lost opportunity to pay much attention to any of it. The Flaming Fist wants them to jump through some impossible series of hoops before they'll allow their caravan in. Two more Lords' Alliance lackeys will join them in attempting to push this boulder up its hill. One of them is an irritatingly upbeat half-elf woman--Gods, tell me she's not a bard--and the other is a dwarven woman who strikes him as much less abrasive.
The bard, Io, immediately begins talking about visiting a temple to Correlon Larethian to request help. Keryn mentions the Shrine of Suffering, which seems more sensible given that they have one of Ilmater's unfortunate "Chosen" among them.
Despite feeling like this whole endeavor is hopeless from the start, Gaerzil feels compelled to at least offer a suggestion. "I suppose I could speak with Master Blackhand at Sorcerous Sundries to see if he could offer any work. I'm not sure what skills any of our companions possess that would be of any use to the esteemed emporium, but perhaps he might need a new floor-scrubber or two. Or perhaps Clyde could help dispose of old invoices."
