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Jamilee's pretty quick: Initiative (1d20+4=20)

"If it turns out bigger than a badger, hnh," answers Jamilee, cautiously moving towards the direction of the sound.

Spot DC 20, Listen DC 15 (1d20+4=10, 1d20+4=20) Jamilee's ears perk, and she draws her bow as she turns towards the sound. To Christopher, she whispers "Doesn't sound good.. can you see hrnthing?", rather urgently.

She seems impressed by Christopher's display, going so far as to say it's a "useful skill," but beyond that Jamilee barely speaks during the entire journey. She deflects attempts at casual conversation with monosyllabic answers. Her bird, once it's woken up, seems more lively and curious about...

As planned, Jamilee buys an extra four days' worth of rations, three days' worth of horse feed, swinging by her home to get the rest of her gear and pack it all up on her horse. She shows back up as soon as she's done, packed, armed to the teeth, and guiding a slim-built warhorse by the reins...

"Acceptable," is Jamilee's simple reply.

Jamilee "Mh," says Jamilee, mostly to Reis. "I'll take the key, hrn, pair up with you. Probably will need the same supplies. hrnsafer not to be alone." "Wise. Maybe a mule," she croaks. Mule and cart, not so much, but riding a mule might be a decent way to get ahead. If not exactly glorious...

Knowledge (Arcana) DC10 (1d20+4=24) Jamilee nods. "I will do this." After doing some quick mental math, a few deliberate hacks and setting the last of her wine to work as a throat-lubricant, she risks speaking at length. "If the dw-.. Mr. Mountainbore does not mind taking my horse, I think we...

Jamilee hm-hs appreciatively, nodding at the huge jewel. She looks a lot less skeptical; this reveal explains rather a lot. "Oh, my bad." She scoots a little closer, tilts her head looking at it. "Ah, I see now, yes, yes. Hrnable. Might make it in a day, riding hard. 'Course.." --hack--...

Jamilee The elf quietly takes in Jon's pitch and the ensuing interrogation, only speaking up after Tibard's question. "The one who can cast it is.." -- hack -- "..not here. Also teleportation is expensive, not without hrrisk," says Jamilee, not particularly caring about the rules of politeness...

Jamilee, gray elf Ftr 1 / Nec 1 Jamilee enters from the main room, half a glass of wine in hand. Although thin as a rail, she's wiry and seems less tiny and frail than most of her kin. This general impression is helped a fair bit by how she goes around armed and armoured most of the time --...

After witnessing the reunion and ensuing display of emotion, Jamilee quietly absconds to the back room, half-full glass of wine still in hand. It might've been too much bounce for her to handle.

Jamilee looks left, then right, then back to Nodis, shrugging and coughing out a few words. "Apparently they scheeded, hnh. Maybe they died in the attempt?" "You can't tell, but hrnis is my laughing 'ace," says Jamilee, deadpan. And indeed, it's just the usual scar-snarl.

"Jamilee," the elf says simply. Then, after a pause long enough to indicate the pleasantry's a late afterthought, she adds, "Pleasure."

Jamilee's scarred face is probably unfamiliar, but she produces something approaching a grin at the newcomer, and raises her cup. "So am I, mostly," she rasps. "Welcome." The name, or for that matter Christopher's introduction, doesn't draw any real kind of reaction from the elf. She simply...

Jamilee sips her drink to lubricate her throat. It helps, a little. "Don't rightly know. I have had my nose in books for the last.. hrgnear or so." Another quick sip. "The last I heard, several gghroups went out to save the hrrorld." Glance to the left. Then right. Then a shrug. "Guess they...

The elf lets out a short, raspy laugh. After risking having nearby milk curdle by attempting a smile, she answers. "Jamilee. Wizard, warrior. And -- hack -- occasional smith, hnh."

"Such a plight," says Jamilee, dryly.

A few extra creases form in Jamilee's face as she considers. She seems to be taking what's obviously a social-lubricant question rather literally and seriously, or maybe she's bothered by something.. whatever the reason, after a while she does answer. "Quiet. For me."

Maybe it's the outfit and his polite demeanor, or maybe it's just the pointy ears, but Quozen gets a more respectful greeting from Jamilee than most. She folds her hands together and bows fractionally - wouldn't do to dislodge the bird, apparently. "Jamilee, Valhaeris. Welcome." Still sounds...