Appearance: Rugged loner with grey hair and eyes with pale skin.
Clothing: Light leather hood, belted leather trench coat over quality cotton shirt and pants with leather gloves and boots that come up to the knee, along with a fine woollen cloak stowed for cooler weather.
Armour: Tough leather upper torso armour with shoulder pauldrons and vambraces, now plated with fine steel in some areas.
Weapons: Short sword along with twin daggers and a shortbow with a small quiver of arrows.
*Sees everyone's wonderfully detailed bios* I feel like I should add a backstory or something...
Guess I'll hop in here, seems to be the main hub of activity right now.
Name: Sanfor Race: Goblin/Minotaur (Finnasnet tribe) Gender: Male Age: Looks about 19 Description: Pointed ears, long, tangle, flowing hair that starts low on his forehead, a sandy blonde color. His skin is the same color as his hair. He has a bit of a beard on his chins, and his arms and legs are especially hairy. He is average height. No horns. Teeth are a bit malformed, and he has a really wicked looking smile. Small squinty eyes. He tends to walk with a bit of a stoop, though if provoked he straightens out. Muscular, though doesn't look it at first glance. Clothing: Loose canvas shirt, crossbelt, pants cut off just below the knees. Equipment: A one-sided axe, small enough to be used for throwing, large enough for hand-to-hand combat. Long, chipped knife in belt. Backstory: Due to his parentage, he's never fit in anywhere, and never trusted. He's become wary and shy, always expecting rejection. He is a silent creature, and his intelligence is rather untested, he's not used to solving problems beyond his next meal and shelter. He has wandered in the desert many years, but has moved inland in hopes of hiring himself out somewhere.
"Good evening to you to sir. I seek a place to stay and I heard this place had…..palatable prices. May I rent a room for two nights? And I would also pay for a dinner in the common room of course."
The innkeeper grunts and tells her the price. "Pay now."
*huff* Very well, very well. No need to be to suspicious. *She digs in her bag for a moment and then hands him the appropriate amount* I'll be waiting for the food in the common room then.
OOC: Sorry mistook "You will get your food" for "You will get your own food"
IC: Gartt chooses to partially ignore the men in favor of focusing on his first meal in almost 60 hours. He notices the movement from the lone man, and hopes it didn't signify a flicker recognition. "I thought I had been careful and covered my tracks." Gartt pulled his hood and cloak closer about him*
OOC: No worries.
IC: As he eats, a young woman enters the inn and begins talking to the innkeeper.
OOC: Swell
IC: Gartt's suspicion grows. He grips the handle of his blow dart gun. (Concealed under his cloak for clandestine/quick draws) He weighs his options.
The innkeeper grunts and tells her the price. "Pay now."
*huff* Very well, very well. No need to be to suspicious. *She digs in her bag for a moment and then hands him the appropriate amount* I'll be waiting for the food in the common room then.
He takes the money quickly, examining it before shoving it in a pocket. "One more thin'." He calls over to the tables. "Oi, Anders, git over 'ere! Ya too, elf-man, don' know yer name! We got a room issue!"
Guess I'll hop in here, seems to be the main hub of activity right now.
Name: Sanfor Race: Goblin/Minotaur (Finnasnet tribe) Gender: Male Age: Looks about 19 Description: Pointed ears, long, tangle, flowing hair that starts low on his forehead, a sandy blonde color. His skin is the same color as his hair. He has a bit of a beard on his chins, and his arms and legs are especially hairy. He is average height. No horns. Teeth are a bit malformed, and he has a really wicked looking smile. Small squinty eyes. He tends to walk with a bit of a stoop, though if provoked he straightens out. Muscular, though doesn't look it at first glance. Clothing: Loose canvas shirt, crossbelt, pants cut off just below the knees. Equipment: A one-sided axe, small enough to be used for throwing, large enough for hand-to-hand combat. Long, chipped knife in belt. Backstory: Due to his parentage, he's never fit in anywhere, and never trusted. He's become wary and shy, always expecting rejection. He is a silent creature, and his intelligence is rather untested, he's not used to solving problems beyond his next meal and shelter. He has wandered in the desert many years, but has moved inland in hopes of hiring himself out somewhere.
{JAMMERS! -TheGreatCon- ONLY!} I feel kind of bad doing this, but since you're a veteran user and someone I know I figure it's worth a shot.
Right now, practically everybody's here, and that means that nothing will happen in the other HQs. So I'm going to ask you to consider moving to the Lion Knights or the Dragon Knights. If you don't want to, no pressure, that's fine, but I want to ask anyway.
IC: Gartt's suspicion grows. He grips the handle of his blow dart gun. (Concealed under his cloak for clandestine/quick draws) He weighs his options.
Before he can act, he hears the innkeeper call out. "Oi, Anders, git over 'ere! Ya too, elf-man, don' know yer name! We got a room issue!"
IC: Gartt rose again from the table and strode over gritting his teeth because of the interruption, and because the inn keeper once again called so much attention to him. When Gartt arrived at the counter he hiss/growled, "This had better be most important."
Before he can act, he hears the innkeeper call out. "Oi, Anders, git over 'ere! Ya too, elf-man, don' know yer name! We got a room issue!"
IC: Gartt rose again from the table and strode over gritting his teeth because of the interruption, and because the inn keeper once again called so much attention to him. When Gartt arrived at the counter he hiss/growled, "This had better be most important."
He sees that the girl the innkeeper is talking to is a young elven woman. The man called Anders does not join them after a minute, and the innkeeper calls again. "Anders! Git over 'ere!" The man sitting alone looks up, startled, and hastily makes his way over, looking at the ground the whole way. When he gets there, the innkeeper says. "'Ere's tha deal. I got two rooms an' three o' ya, two beds 'n ea' room. Sort it ou'." He walks away, leaving them to talk.
WelCON! 
It's just that your guy's ones are very impressive. ![[y]](http://storage.proboards.com/6672327/images/WYWPH2VRo26pOFDid7QZ.png)
