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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Isida Kep'Tukari" data-source="post: 2045409" data-attributes="member: 4441">*Craven wiped the sweat from his face as he put the finished longsword in its sheath.  It had taken a good week's worth of solid work, but it was one more weapon for the temple's armory.  He finished cleaning up the forge, banking the fires, and giving the floor a quick sweep; the acolytes would finish up later.  Shrugging aching shoulders, he went to wash himself before his shift at the Welcome Wench.  He shivered as he poured the bucket of cold water over his head and scrubbed himself clean of the accumulated sweat and soot of the forge.  Drying quickly, he dressed himself and put on his light leather armor before taking a truncheon and dagger and leaving for the evening.  It was rare that he even had to pull them out, as a matter of fact, he had never taken out an edged weapon in the tavern, and only had to use the truncheon once on a very rough and extremely drunk dwarf.**Walking across town, he shook his head a few times to get the rest of the water out of his hair, combing it with his fingers, trying to get it just right.  A good appearance gave the impression of confidence, something he was always careful to project.*"Craven!  Remember Marly wanted some honeycakes from the inn tonight!" his mother called out to him as he passed the potter's.  Smiling he waved his ascent, and shook his head.  As if he would forget...*Walking into the Welcome Wench, he saw a lively crowd, and smiled a bit.  A good crowd always meant a good night for the innkeeper, and an interesting night for him.  Sometimes the lively crowds were the least trouble, being too focused on merriment to think about violence.  The more sullen crowds could be the worst.  Craven went and took his usual post at the end of the bar, with a good view of the room.  He was a tall man, well-built, with dark blonde hair, and well-fitting clothes.  However, despite his good looks, he had long ago discouraged the wenches from flirting with him.  The innkeeper didn't like it... and Craven couldn't think of the girls here in that way.  He had grown up with too many of them.  They were like sisters to him.*</blockquote>

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