Charlarn of Phyrah: male human cleric 6/ranger 2
*POP* In a flash of light, a man wearing a well-worn chain shirt with a shield bearing a silver falcon slung on his back appears by the bar. He holds his hand up to his mouth as tif eating a piece of fruit. Charlarn stumbles a little when he reappears in the inn. "That's something new." He lowers his hand and looks around. "Oh, that a surprise. I though we'd have to walk back to the inn." A look of relief crosses the cleric's face as he sees his friends. "We all made it. For a moment I wasn't sure where we'd end up."
Joe clears his throat. Charlarn turns and asks with a smile, "Even when we just pop in?" Joe says nothing. The brown-haired cleric raises his hands in mock surrender and turns to the rest of the room, "Fine, fine, no exceptions. I'm Charlarn of Phyrah. My friends and I just came back from an amazing experience. We started out helping a merfolk city against a lich and ended up plane-skipping. We managed to save the city and stop the lich. Not long before we came back, we fought a giant spider that came close to killing us all." Once he's done speaking, he looks for a table and checks over his equipment, casting a mending spell on his battered shield.