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[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 
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Marita was glad that she didn't have to wait long for someone else to respond to her proposal, even if it was Hugh, who with each new word came off as more and more of a little prick. She understood his immediate dislike of Kosara, especially given how she pounced at his throat first chance she got, but the condescension and smarmy self-satisfaction that dripped from his every word was a bit much even for her, which really said something coming from one who came from the church of the God of Inflexibility. Grating tone aside, he did provide a lot of useful information. In this troupe of social rejects and sore thumbs, someone with abilities in the realm of subterfuge could be a great asset. Arriving early and doing some investigation showed initiative on his part, and if he found something pertinent to this job having more information than the scraps they were given would make the situation much less irritating. When Hugh looked over at Marita he'd see her looking back with a vaguely irritated, but not dissatisfied expression.

As Victoria began to speak, Marita found herself leaning in to listen without even intending to do so. She certainly had a hypnotic voice that made you want to listen, as much as the cleric was loathe to admit it. There was no surprise when Victoria listed off her artistically inclined talents, but it was still good to confirm them. But when she mentioned the names of her divine inspirations, Marita's eyes instantly flashed with recognition before narrowing, looking at Morty and then back to Victoria. However, not a word slipped past Marita's lips. Of course she would recognize Wee Jas if nobody else considering she shared the same panthenon with Pholtus.

Marita's gut instinct was to call out Victoria for being a dirty necromancer, but she fought that back, if for no other immediate reason than risking accidentally causing an angry mob to form. It might have come as a surprise to those ignorant of the more intricate details of the gods and their doctrines, but despite being a Lawful Good Sun god, Pholtus didn't actually have dogma explicitly condemning the undead. Sure in practice 99% of the time the Undead would be purged due to being a menace to society or used for evil means, but this might have been the 1% exception she never expected to have to deal with. In fact, Pholtus and Wee Jas were probably closer in alignment than him and Pelor. It was also worth noting that she decided to explicitly namedrop 3 lawful neutral Death gods with similar stances on undead and their use. Either she just wanted to flex her religious studies, or she was being sincere. The fact that Victoria volunteered this information freely (even if a bit veiled for obvious reasons) did much to have the cleric temper her reaction from "Openly Antagonistic" to "Heightened Wariness." If nobody else brought up the resident bard's fondness for the unliving, neither would she even if she didn't like it.

It all made sense now. That wrapped up pig, her fondness for purple, Gray Requiem. In retrospect it was all quite obvious. Actually, now that the name Wee Jas was in her head, Marita took a double take at Victoria's features. It was almost like the depictions of the Ruby Sorceress leapt of the page and decided to rock a tricorn. This realization twisted her gut in a knot. The appearance of this woman here was an omen. Now more than ever she was convinced that she needed to be here on this mission.

And yet, in the midst of all these complicated feelings, Marita felt a sense of relief. Perhaps it was the pettiest feeling she had had in months, but knowing that Victoria was a necromancer gave her a legitimate reason to dislike the half elf beyond shallow envy, and she didn't have to fight that feeling anymore. There was still a hint of shame because it was a rationalization, but there was only so many thoughts she could juggle at one time and the ramifications for trying to justify a minor sin was low on the priority list.

The cleric's thoughts were cut short by the appearance of Naivara, who of her own accord let everyone know she was a druid. She seemed extraordinarily awkward, but the hermit's smile and tone evoked an odd sense of nostalgia in Marita, although she could not place why exactly. She did not like it, but that malaise did not extend to the girl herself.

[color=FF6C5C]"No need to be too concerned. The Sheriff has yet to arrive himself, so we were getting to know each other better and what we are capable off. To keep it short, I have Clerical magic, Hugh over there is an expert in stealth, Victoria the silver tongue and Alastor the blade. Ah, my name is Marita Bärbel."[/color] Her tone and cadence were about as nice and approachable as the cleric was capable of. She couldn't fault the druid for interrupting the conversation, so she tried to catch her up to speed as quickly as possible, while allowing the others to chime in with what talents they could provide in as smooth a fashion as she could muster.