With a wide smile, Iouril joined in the raucous laughter of the men near him in the tavern. Scarfing down a meal while engaging in their revelry, the dark elf was caught in a rare display of comradery. He had just returned from a trip with a group of mercenaries that had hired him, and they had invited him to join in a meal at one of their favorite taverns near the city wall after learning he had no place to stay in the city. He had gotten his room and board at a discount thanks to them, and was thoroughly enjoying the way his night had turned out. It was a much needed reprieve from his travels at the moment. 

For the last few moons, Iouril had been on the move. He ran into some trouble with some ragtag clan south of Annos Dorei, from whom he stole back an heirloom of a man who hired him to that purpose. He made a decent amount of coin, but he was fleeing the clan for quite some time. He managed to escape into this city with some secrecy and hadn’t had trouble since he started to lay low. He got some simple work from this mercenary group, going out to the coast to protect some caravan, and was basically just trying to make sure his stay would be as simple as possible. He had no destination in mind, though he was giving thought to become the mage of one of the merchant ships. He was curious about life at sea. 

Sitting at a table surrounded by a few different characters, Iouril gripped a hold of the counter when the world began to shake. It only lasted a few moments, but he had to save his bowl and glass from falling over. It ended almost as soon as it begun, and it left the dark elf and his companions looking at each other in confusion – until one of them muttered, “It  mus've been yer old lady falling out of bed, Wesson!” To which the group laughed heartily. Out of the corner of his eye, Iouril watched a vibrant woman rush out of the door. 
[hr]
A little bit later, after Iouril had slurped down the rest of his stew and stuffed his crusty bread in his mouth, he was left to his own devices. A few harsh hands patted him on the back as his newest acquaintances all stood and filed out, their voices calling back exuberant farewells and promises to meet again. As they left, he took his table and motioned for the serving girl. His gaze lingered on the door as a female figured entered in and sat relatively close to his booth on the wall, near the back corner of the inn. He noticed a more familiar figure reentering the bar as he recited his request for a refill to the server. It was a Xanara who he had seen around, but didn't necessarily know. Before the waitress left, he asked if she knew the fox, but only got a vigorous head-shake as an answer. As she whisked away, the dark elf leaned back and tapped a finger on his chin.

He stood after a moment, straightening his vest, and strode easily to the Xanara who sat herself at the bar. He cleared his throat gently to get her attention, as to make his presence known. "Excuse me, miss. Do you know what that earthquake was? I watched you leave after it..."