[center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][table][row][/row][row][cell] [h2][color=FF6C5C][i][b]Marita Bärbel[/b][/i][/color][/h2][i][b][color=FF6C5C]Human, Cleric, Level 3[/color][/b][/i] [color=FF6C5C][i][b]HP:[/b][/i][/color] 18/18 [color=FF6C5C][i][b]Armor Class:[/b][/i][/color] 18 [color=FF6C5C][i][b]Conditions:[/b][/i][/color] N/A [color=FF6C5C][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Darenby, The Infamous Pear [color=FF6C5C][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A [color=FF6C5C][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A [color=FF6C5C][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A [/cell][/row][/table][center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center] Marita was saved from having to continue the conversation with the Tiefling after receiving the not unsurprising but still vexing information that no, he hadn't heard anything from the sheriff other than the letters he had sent out ahead of time. However, that came at the expense of the one saving her in this instance being the most immodestly dressed tiefling she had ever seen. The fact that two tieflings happened to show up here in the first place was what? One in a million? Even when she had attended the grand balls of nobles who had come from across the land, at most she saw 4 of them, and they had all come together from the coast. And [i]those clothes[/i], most whores were better dressed even when it wasn't autumn. Kosara had done much to earn Marita's dislike before she even said anything, but her mouth only added further reasons to that list. There was nothing particularly wrong with being bubbly and gregarious, despite the stereotype that clergymen were uptight sticks in the mud, she knew many people who were very people oriented. In fact it was a very good trait to have at many different levels of the hierarchy. At the local level it was easier to connect with the flock, and at the high level, nobility and kings. The problem came from how she didn't moderate herself for the situation, and worst of all was how freely she shared information. The letter was indeed about goblins, but even from the way the barkeep talked, it probably went much deeper than that, and she presented herself as nothing but a liability if any inquisitorial duties were required of them. Marita was taken out of her judgements by the ding of metal on wood as the largest human, let alone woman she had ever seen stepped into the tavern. By the Light, she was even taller than most Dragonborn she had seen. Aside from her stature, Marita could help but notice the state of her gear and be unimpressed by it. There was something to be said about the frugality of using what you had for all that it could provide, but there was a limit to that, and her equipment had passed that point many years ago. Stubbornly holding onto tools that barely managed to hold together from a stern look was at best asking for it to break at an inopportune time. The fact that she was still holding onto it indicated being too poor to pick up usable equipment (not a good sign for the ability of a sellsword) or some overly entrenched sentimentality. The best Marita could hope for was that Kathryn's physical attributes would compensate. Aside from that, there was nothing yet for Marita to consider. As if not to be outdone in loud appearances, in walked a woman whose entire appearance screamed at the top of her lungs "Look at me, I'm a bard! Purple's my name, music's my game!" Unlike the previous two applicants, Victoria's Aura of Unreliability came more from her broadcasted occupation than her demeanor or equipment. Even at the best of times bards were fickle and prone to distraction, but as far as gripes went, this was almost a non-issue. No, the reasons Marita had to dislike Victoria were much pettier. Marita could see the care that was put into her makeup as a fellow "woman of the brush." Every morning she put in a lot of effort into trying to make herself look good, so seeing someone else look so much better gave a rush of envy. She knew this wasn't a valid reason to dislike her, and she seemed respectful enough (Marita silently returned the nod) so for now she'd try to suppress the feeling. She couldn't help but grimace at the appearance of Morty. Was there really a need to bring such a creature indoors? If she weren't already distracted, she might have noticed the full extent of how odd the pig was, but for the time being he was safe. Mona. Marita didn't know what to think about her. She dressed as a holy woman, but she carried a fey on her shoulder. She wore an amulet as a holy symbol, but it wasn't dedicated to any god or set of gods. At least not any one she was familiar with, and she was fairly confident in her knowledge of what deities were out there. It was just a unicorn. Her eyes narrowed just a bit more than they were before. Her mind jumped to a few explanations: a con in holy robes, a cultist, an artist more attached to Unicorns than was healthy. Perhaps she was a foreigner from a far off country and their religious iconography was unknown to her. For now she would brush aside her doubts and just watch how Mona acted. Finally, most surprising of all, they were joined by a man that had been in the Pear since before Marita had walked in. He was short. Very short for a man who wasn't (half)elf. Clean shaven for the most part, but looking closer, she could see bits of stubble here and there. He didn't go to the barber for his grooming, that's for sure. And his eyes were sharp, the kind that looked at people and saw the worst in them. He had been watching them this whole time from outside as it were. She didn't trust him. Those who didn't trust anybody were the first to betray others. All in all, other than perhaps Alastor and Victoria nobody in this gaggle of misfits and rejects were trustworthy for one reason or another. Perhaps this would change given time, but Marita wasn't going to hold her breath. Now more than ever she was glad she decided to answer the Sheriff's call. If her hunch was correct, she definitely wouldn't leave a delicate matter in the hands of those at the table, even as a last resort as this were. Marita stood from her seat and placed her hand on the table, not a slam, but with enough force to direct attention to her. [color=FF6C5C]"I apologize for not introducing myself sooner, I'm Marita Bärbel. Since the Sheriff and anyone else that may be attending this party appears to be running late, the least we can do is get some business taken care of before hand so we don't end up staying up all night for nothing."[/color] Her voice came out authoritatively, but she tried to sound informal enough to not come off as commandeering. [color=FF6C5C]"Everyone has given a name and alluded to being here because they got the same letter, but there's more we need to get out of the way first. Why are you here at this table, and I don't mean your life story,"[/color] she said preemptively so Kosara didn't go into another tangent about her grandfather or whatever. [color=FF6C5C]"I mean what do you bring to this table. What skills can you contribute. If we're supposed to be working together and I'm assuming that's the case, otherwise why would we be called in like this, I want to know what exactly to expect. If this task ends up more dangerous than the word of the letter says, I don't want any dead weight, or worse a liability that endangers the rest of us needlessly. If you can't offer anything of value then you might as well leave now."[/color] That came off a lot worse than it sounded in her head. Marita cleared her voice before continuing. [color=FF6C5C]"In my case I'm a cleric of Pholtus. I'm pretty good with this mace, but more importantly I'm a skilled handler of holy magic. Whether that be healing the sick and injured, bolstering allies, or ensuring that no lies be told."[/color] Unsure of how to continue or wrap up from here, she sat down and looked expectantly for someone else to follow up. If nobody did, not only would that entire display be awkward, it'd also be a bad sign to come