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Wordlessly, with a smug look on his face, Alric retrieves the axe from the target and takes his shot. Though his smug look dissolves into a visage of dismay as he watches the axe whizz past the target horribly wide, almost in slow motion in his mind.

Alric smiles at Bannock's success. "Looks like your luck is turning friend." He retrieves the axe from the target and hurls for his own point.

Thinking his duty done in helping to diffuse the situation and giving Arnir a much harder pat on the back than necessary, Alric eagerly wanders back over to the game of Axe or Dram. Win or lose, Alric is enjoying the distraction and friendly competition and he exemplifies this with a friendly...

After being nearly bowled over and recovering from Bannocks friendly jab, Alric looks around to come to grips with what's going on in the tavern. Following suit with Bannock to diffuse the situation, Alric strides over to Arnir with a grim look on his face. "Arnir, this sodding idiot is not...

Alric pats Bannock on the shoulder. "Luck is not with you today is it?" Though he says this smiling, relishing the thought of Bannock stone drunk on the floor. Alric retrieves the axe and attempts another shot. And is pleased to see it hit the middle ring. "I do not doubt your mastery friend...

Alric rolls his shoulders, trying to shack off the drink a bit. All he really succeeds in is making his head spin slightly. Regardless, he hefts the throwing axe again. "Guess it's my turn. Mm, I can task that keg of ale now!" And launches the axe at the bulls-eye.

Alric smiles his best slightly-:):):):):)-faced smile and extends his hand in greetings to Brondwyn, "Well met Brondwyn. I am Alric and this large stout friend of mine is Bannock. We hail from Gate's Pass in the mountains between Ragesia and Shahalesti and I don't consider anyone a friend until...

Seeing the contest across the room, Alric nudges Bannock with his elbow and then seems to catch himself from having tipped himself in the opposite direction. He then says in slurred tones motioning to the contest of axe throwing, "Shall we show 'em how it's done?"

Alric walks into the inn in much the same fashion as Lars has. Quickly he obtains his room key with a full gold piece tip to the tavernmaster, orders a hot bath and his clothing laundered. Afterwards, once feeling much refreshed he joins his comrades downstairs and you find him clean shaven and...

Alric brings himself forward his hands out in greeting. Though his voice is somewhat more friendly than usual, his face still has it's characteristic stony visage. "Hail! I am called Alric Greyblade. We seek to pass through your town and refuge within it from the elements. Could you tell us if...

Alric reddens and blusters slightly at Torrents jest. "I do not have a lump of coal up my ass." Despite his profession his hand seems to subconciously wander to his backside as if he's unsure about his claim or he's trying to shield it from the sudden attention. "I too would rather keep moving...

For a moment Alric makes his suspicion of the Shahalesti ranger evident as he considers Diashan's request. Then he barks a sharp laugh, "Ha! How poetic that an exile from both Ragesia and Shahalesti will cohort in the same party. You're welcome to come as far as I'm concerned ranger but know...

To all that Diashan says, Alric merely nods his head, his face impassive. Shahalesti started the fires. File that one away. "Indeed. You have much to answer for in the next life Diashan. As do those who gave your orders."

Alric gives Diashan a flat look. "From what the Seela Tiljann has told us, the forest has been burning for 40 years." With the answering of Diashan's question, he allows him a pause for it to sink in. Though he holds Diashan with his gaze as a silent reminder that he awaits the answering of his...

Alric sheathes his sword as the elf does so. "I am called Alric." Alric offers a slight bow to Diashan and tells him of the story of how they encountered the entity, the Seela, and how the entity was freed ending the fires. He omits any mention of the intelligence or their mission to Lyceum...

"Bannock, remember what Arnir told us! Ware his beard up close!" Alric grits his teeth, and brings his sword up over his shield preparing for another wide, arcing attack.

Feeling foolish about his strategy against the devil, and cursing himself under his breath not to underestimate the cunning of the devil again, Alric carefully edges himself with striking distance of the devil while bringing his silvered sword into a wide arc at the devil's back. Alric takes a...

Alric yelps in shock and gapes in horror as his skin changes tone and texture at Hrimr's touch. Never before has such a thing been done to him and his prejudice against magic is flooding him with nightmarish thoughts of being turned into an inanimate tree. For a brief half-second he begins to...

Alric drops his pack and gear, lightening his load and indicating he has no intention to flee. Then, casually he draws silver sword and drops into a battle stance. With a wolfish grin on his face (masking a small bit of fear resonating with the itching shoulder where the devil nearly sliced it...

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, since geography was never my strong suit, but mustn't we head that way to get back onto the road that heads to Lyceum? If this is the case, it shouldn't be a long segue and I care not or the brief delay."