Trouvere
Explorer
A young man enters, looking as though he's slept rough for a week, and then put in a sweaty few hours' work, as indeed he has. His leather armour shows scuffs and odd scorch marks. The handle of a shovel protrudes from his shabby backpack, in marked contrast to the new and very fine quiver that sits beside it, or the equally fine rapier at his hip.
"Keldar, Keldar Warbray, poet and singer, fighter and lover, accomplished with sword and bow, favoured of the gods, and master of the arcane. Joe, it is good to be back! Did you miss me? No need to answer, your face speaks volumes. Ah hah, Galwynn and Tommy, waiting patiently, I see."
Keldar pulls up a chair. "And some faces that are new to me. Greetings to all."
OOC: there's a good chance the shovel was in Tarag's bag of holding, which he now has. For simplicity, let's say Keldar remembered to retrieve it when he left the forge.
"Keldar, Keldar Warbray, poet and singer, fighter and lover, accomplished with sword and bow, favoured of the gods, and master of the arcane. Joe, it is good to be back! Did you miss me? No need to answer, your face speaks volumes. Ah hah, Galwynn and Tommy, waiting patiently, I see."
Keldar pulls up a chair. "And some faces that are new to me. Greetings to all."
OOC: there's a good chance the shovel was in Tarag's bag of holding, which he now has. For simplicity, let's say Keldar remembered to retrieve it when he left the forge.