[hr][hr][h1][color=f26522][center]Azra Flametongue[/center][/color][/h1][hr][hr]
As the caravan wound its way through the plains and hills of the Sword Coast, along the dusty and bumpy Triboar Trail, anyone watching it from a afar would see a small object bobbing up and down, located above the central wagon. It had a continuous almost circular motion to it, rising a few feet above the bed of the cart, dropping back down out of sight, before reappearing again moments later. If they had exceptional vision, they might have been able to tell what the object was.

It was an apple.

[i]Throw... Catch... Throw... Catch...[/i]

It was an apple being thrown by a Tiefling, red skinned, with two great curled horns sprouting from his forehead. 

[i]Throw... Catch... Throw... Catch...[/i]

Azra Firetongue was bored out of his mind.

It had been a few days since he had left Neverwinter. Or more actually, he had scurried out of Neverwinter with his tail between his legs, under a hooded cloak so no one would recognise him as he left. At first it had been invigorating, the fresh country air, the new sights and smells, a new set of travelling companions. But as the novelty began to wear off, and Azra had found himself without a crowd to entertain or a tavern to get rat-arsed drunk in, the boredom began to creep in.

And so here he was, laid flat out of his back atop the loaded wagon, staring up into the cloud strewn sky, juggling an apple. He was juggling an apple. He was juggling a fucking apple. Dear gods, had it really come to this?

At the sound of voices, he tossed the apple even higher into the sky than before, sat up from his reclined position, and caught it with his mouth. He took a large bite from it, his pointed incisors and disturbingly enlarged canines making short work of it. His head peaked over the edge of wagon and his goat-like eyes surveyed his companions. 

It was the big lunk of a man, Iron-something, talking to the pretty blonde half-elf ...Zynnlin ...Zillnyn? that Azra had already tried his luck with the first night they had set off along the High Road. They spoke in the fluttering tongue that Azra knew to be Elvish, but could not understand in the slightest. He hoped big man didn't think he had a chance there, if Azra hadn't yet succeeded in plucking that fresh, delicate flower, what hope did these others have?

From behind the cart came the sound of music. Azra rolled onto his front and crawled over to see its source. It was coming from by far the strangest member of their party. The great armoured reptile thing that was called... Tim? Who at that moment was playing a flute. It wasn't particularly good, but it was something other than staring at the sky, juggling an apple, and so for Azra, it was the best thing he had heard all week.  

Azra listened with a wide smiled upon his face. When the song had finished, he exclaimed:

[color=f26522]"Bravo! Bravo! My shelled friend, you know have you ever considered quitting your day job? I mean, being a caravan guard, or whatever it is that you do when you're not guarding caravans, is all well and good. But I know a born performer when I see one. The stage calls to you! I'm sure you would make plenty coin, you just need to add some pizazz to it! Costumes, a dance number, pyrotechnics!" [/color] As he spoke, a shower of sparks appeared with a wave of Azra's hand. [color=f26522]"You agree of course don't you?"[/color]

The last comment was not directed at the Tortle, but rather at the other member of the party behind the cart, the quiet elven mage, who appeared to be reading a book as he walked. That didn't seem healthy, Azra himself didn't see the point he reading, you didn't need books to get by, you didn't even need them to learn magic. Then Azra remembered, this fellow didn't know any Common, that must be the problem! Why he had ignored all of Azra's witticisms and fascinating comments over the past few days. Well, he would have to help the stranger out.

[color=f26522]"AG-REE! YES!? THE MU-SIC?! IT WAS VE-RY GOOD!? NAT-UR-AL PER-FOR-MER! BUT NEEDS MORE PI-ZAZZ!"[/color] Asra shouted at the elf loudly and slowly, breaking any longer words down into individual syllables, as if that would somehow make him understand common. 

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[i][center][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/campaigns/826]Azra's Rolls[/url][/center][/i]