#ragewrought

Gilmore: But no, it's -- there aren't many of us, and let's just say, in times past, we were -- runechildren were sought after. Not always by the best of intentions. So I'd like to keep this information...

Keyleth and Vex'ahlia: Of course.

Vax'ildan: Was that a problem in Emon, or just where you hail from?

Gilmore: It pervaded the entire Age of Arcanum, but, um, it's not that it's- it's just not that well understood, and uh... just... please.

Grog: Your word is safe with us, because I don't know what you're talking about.

“Neither do I, big guy,” Gilmore muttered, watching the people of Westruun outside the shop’s window. People weren’t afraid to leave their homes anymore, but this Glorious Goods location was having difficulty catching an audience compared to Emon. But, at the very least, Grog, Pike, and Scanlan were nearby.

Let’s play Wed, Bed, Behead || accepting

                              that  fifth  flagon  of  ale  was  a  mistake.  there  he  is  with,  sleeves  rolled  up  to  his  elbows  and  one   arm  on  the  table  and  opposite  him  ;  a  goliath.  big  and  bearded.  at  least  he  thinks  thats  a  goliath  (  westruun  still  homes  a  few  here  and  there  or  so  he’s  heard  )  but  even  in  his  drunken  state  he’s  sure  it’d  be  rude  to   outright   ask. 

The city is massive-- and while it would normally bring discomfort and maybe a little bit of paranoia to most, it brings Gabrielle comfort most of all. The sounds of people bustling about their days, performers along the streets-- it’s all home to her. She takes in a breath, thinking about where she’d go next eventually coming to stop and find respite in one of the many taverns throughout the city. Upon entry there are a few who look at her and raise their brows-- it’s not often that people see an Air Genasi in this neck of the woods. Regardless of the looks she finds a seat at the bar and orders up a drink in her usual fashion-- it’s only as she waits that she looks around at those gathered.

She finds a few people of interest, huddled around their table gossiping about-- well she could only guess what they were gossiping about. Paying the barkeep and beginning to nurse her drink to watch the patrons as they enjoy their early evening revelry. She’s a bard, that much is clear just in the way she looks-- a brilliantly carved wooden flute rests off a leather strap on her belt and a lute rests on her back-- it’s almost stereotypical looking for someone of her nature and yet, she’s not off flirting with the barkeep or making eyes at a pretty lady who walks by.

No, she watches with interest-- great interest in fact at least until she hears the crowd fall quiet for just a moment as the door opens. Gabrielle shifts her gaze to the source of the split second silence only to find herself more interested than ever to know about this gentleman. Few ever garner such a reaction-- either he is feared or revered-- or maybe a bit of both given the giant’s stature compared to the other folk of the inn. 

                       “Not often I see folk like you around.”

let me love you || accepting || @ragewrought