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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Rift-LPF" data-source="post: 6173346" data-attributes="member: 6749506">== Jericho, Human Male ==A commotion outside the inn on the bay side is short lived before a curled up figure covered in wet seaweed tumbles in through the Waterside doors and onto the floor with a crash; as beyond the doorway a few over-sized tentacles lower past the edge of the docks and into the splash and spray beneath. From the floor the motionless person raises a single arm from the elbow and comments loudly as he gently tosses a purse up and down "Feels a little short..." Seemingly in reply, a purple appendage resurfaces outside long enough to hurl a handful of coins on top of the nonchalant man, who sighs dejectedly as he peels the kelp to either side of his face to look around the room.          Though reactions are mixed, most of the patrons quickly return to their conversations and drink. The traffic in and out soon has the doors unstuck and swinging freely, and the man manages to remove the armload of plant life from his crisp navy cloak and recently shined boots which are conspicuously dry. He hefts the damp foliage into a waste bin down the wall from the bar. His clothing is simple but in better condition than what you'd expect of someone that makes a habit of arm-wrestling giant mollusks, a courduroy vest and wool pants in cream and tan, and a bright yellow shirt look fairly new compared to the bags and scabbards hanging from his shoulders and belt. He wore no armor, but the brightly gleaming cestus on his right forearm and the ease with which he shrugged off the effects of his less than graceful entry distinguished him from a typical commoner. Still, there was a bit of stiffness evident in his toned shoulders as he ran a hand through his neatly kept brown hair for traces of his recent swim.          Satisfied for the moment, the young man approaches the bar with a half-hearted smile and locks his dark blue eyes on Grog. "Have anything that can get the taste of brine out of my mouth and make me forget how it got there?" he asks the half-orc before fidgeting with a surprised expression on his face. With a jerk, he wrests a wriggling sea bass from one of the larger pockets of his cloak and slaps it down onto the bar. "-and maybe a fire to toss that over for a few minutes?" he adds, removing his cloak and thoroughly looking through his other pockets.</blockquote>

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