Nathan Tchanlach, Human Sorcerer
A young man walks in next. He's a bit unkempt. His beard not quite trimmed, his hair not quite neat, and his clothing generally rumpled and smudged with a stain or two. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, he cuts a striking figure: broad shoulders, square jaw, bright eyes that survey the room. Then a winning smile as he chooses to announce himself.
"Don't worry about me, folks," he says. "Just looking for a little relaxation, maybe a little gold if the right job comes around. Names Nathan. Who wants to buy me a drink for making it here from my speck of a village in the middle of nowhere?"
A young man walks in next. He's a bit unkempt. His beard not quite trimmed, his hair not quite neat, and his clothing generally rumpled and smudged with a stain or two. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, he cuts a striking figure: broad shoulders, square jaw, bright eyes that survey the room. Then a winning smile as he chooses to announce himself.
"Don't worry about me, folks," he says. "Just looking for a little relaxation, maybe a little gold if the right job comes around. Names Nathan. Who wants to buy me a drink for making it here from my speck of a village in the middle of nowhere?"