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Message: <blockquote data-quote="jbear" data-source="post: 6195737" data-attributes="member: 75065">Before the door sings closed a knotted hand, marked with tribal tattoos comes down upon it with a thud, sharp nails digging into the wood like claws. An incongruous figure, attached to the hand paces into the bar, his movements like the spotted hunting feline that pads in behind him. A number of things strike a dissonant chord with this man, so obviously coiled with violence. Firstly the broad grin that is smeared across his face as his yellow eyes look about the inn with pleasure, incisors sharper than usual, nostrils flaring as he takes in the mix of dubious cooking, pungent socks and sweaty pits like a man who walked into a cloud or aromatic nostalgia. Secondly his apparel was an awkward mix of crudely patched exotic furs, tattered and stained from arduous travails  in the most nefarious of locations and recently bought vestments with intricately detailed woven animal patterns and a forest green cloak to match that still smelled of new. He moved with purpose to the bar whilst his feline companion made straight for the fire place. "Te Brown Water for Maui and te Buffalo Milk for te King... what do you mean you still have no Buffalo Milk ..."<a href="http://livingpf.wikia.com/wiki/Maui_(jbear1979)" target="_blank">Maui lvl 6 Druid and Taniwha his cheetah companion </a>enter the inn, ready to  go.</blockquote>