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Decimus - Initiate of High Sorcery | Bladesinger Wizard | Human
AC: 13 | HP: 8/8 | Speed: 30 ft | Spell-casting: +5 / DC 13
Senses: Passive Perception 12, Insight 12, Investigation 15
STR: Score: -1
Athletics: -1 8 | DEXScore: +3
Acrobatics: +3
Stealth: +3
Sleight of Hand: +3: 16 | CONScore: 2: 14 | INTScore: +3
Arcana: +5
History: +5
Investigation: +5
Nature: +3
Religion: +5: 16 | WISScore: 0
Animal Handling: 0
Insight: +2
Medicine: 0
Perception: +2
Survival: 0: 10 | CHAScore: -1
Deception: -1
Intimidation: -1
Performance: -1
Persuasion: -1: 8
Languages: Common, Abyssal, Celestial, Primordial
FeatsWar Caster | Cantrips Blade Ward
Booming Blade
Green-Flame Blade | Level 1Expeditious Retreat
Magic Missile
Tensors Floating Disk
Tash's Hideous Laughter
Identify
Detect Magic
Comprehend Languages
Shield |
His nose wrinkled as a soft poke in his side disturbed his peaceful sleep, and for a moment he was suspended between slumber and the waking world, unsure which was which. A harder poke pressed against his ribs and he blearily opened his eyes, seeing the straw of his sakkat covering his face, and becoming more attuned to the sounds of the world around him. He grumbled, feeling the asymmetrical movement of the cart rocking him gently as it trundled slowly down the road towards their destination. Slowly, his hand came up and slid the hat from off of his face, and he squinted as the bright daylight blinded his one good eye. The child of the farmer who had been generous enough to offer him a ride had poked him twice already, and looked to be readying herself for a third when he gave her a mischievous look, a twinkle in his eye. He swirled one hand for a moment while leaning on his other elbow to raise himself, holding his palm facing up, and used a slight amount of magic to send sparks flying, to which the young girl giggled and the farmer at the front of the cart realized he was awake.
"Good of ye to rejoin us lad, we've landed in Vogler, we've got a bit further to go, but if yer looking for a more suitable place to lay yer head, the Brass Crab is where ye'll be"
Decimus tipped his hat and slid off the edge of the still moving cart, waving goodbye to the farmer and his daughter, smiling softly to himself at their kindness. People from these small towns were wonderful. Ispin had been a great example of one as well. He sighed while he brushed straw and some dry dirt off his kimono, straightening it a little and letting his eye wander around the town. Had he been awake on the way in, he would have been interested in studying that crumbling keep alongside the road, it was too far for him to see anything of note on it, and he was not about to walk all that way back just to satisfy a small curiosity. The town itself was cute, small wooden buildings, thatch rooves, and stone chimneys breathing whisps of smoke into the air, testifying to who was home and who was out and about. The only real thing of note was the incomplete stone bridge that loomed above the river like an ancient gargoyle. It was beautifully masoned, and the wizard expected that if he had a closer look at the keep, that was the sort of refined and ancient work he would have been treated to. The scars of The Cataclysm really could be found Krynn, and with the encroaching rumors of Dragons and armies, maybe generations from now, the scars of small towns like this will be all that exist for people to know they once lived and loved here. He was getting sentimental again, quite soon he was sure to see some bad news in the stones.
He meandered up to the door of the inn, it was larger than other buildings, with some actual brass holdings on it, giving its name some credence. If he squinted his eye hard enough and really thought about it, the positioning of the windows, rounded shape, and the way the thatch fell over the walls, he could see an ugly old crab left out in the sun. He liked it. He pushed the door open with one hand and used the other to tip his sakkat back as he entered, no longer needing it to prevent the sun from blinding him. The inside was just as full of character as the outside, featuring a remarkable (but faded) mural of crustaceous combat which he instantly fell in love with. The host calls out as he enters, her usual spiel he expects, interrupting the service she goes through to make sure he knows what he needs to know. A bed would be nice, but a bottle of wine would be nicer, and maybe, one of these other folk sharing the lodges would be so kind to share some stories. His eye wandered. Almost immediately he heard the Dwarf reference his old friend, and he smiled solemnly, it made sense, Ispin was the kind of man that could inspire legions, of course he had friends of all walks of life, especially considering there was a second Dwarf in here too. He called out to the Dwarf conversing with the delicate looking Half-Elf, his voice low and steady, a baritone with a drawl.
"Pardon my interruption my friend, as much as I share your pain of the passing of our dear Ispin, we all live long enough to do what we were destined to do, his time was due and I'm sure he made peace with it"
He closed the door gently behind him, and walked further into the inn, taking in the rustic décor and getting better looks at the people who populated the place. Thanking Yalme for her hospitality, but politely declining any drinks or food as of yet, he sat down by the hearth, he let the heat wash over him. He was not cold, but a good, comfortable fire should be enjoyed, there was never the promise of another tomorrow these days.