An outlandish figure opens the the door of the Hanged Man Inn, taking a quick glance over his surroundings as he tilts the long spear strapped to his back in order to get through the entrance without getting snagged. It was difficult to qualify a sight as strange with this particular tavern's clientele, but he was at least a rarely seen category of oddity. The human wasn't particularly tall, but he was built like a jaguar fresh from the jungle. His bronze skin and the garish mix of reptile scale and exotic feathers that decorated his hide armor marked him clearly as coming from the Valley of Bones to one that knew the fashions of the area.
Seemingly satisfied with what he saw, he proceeded in, taking a seat at the bar. He grins widely, "'Ey dere barkeepa mon, ja get I a cup of water, maybe I drink somet'in' more expensive lata, jus' thirsty righ'now. I 'Ear dis is da place ta be in Daunton, yaya? Well, dis brudda try an' be where 'e needa be, so 'ere I am."
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Well, Matlal Atzintli is in town. The quasi-Rasta Aztec headhunter is pending authorization. I'll be chillin' in the inn for a while.
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