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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 listened over Kosara's rather eclectic collection of skills with some interest. There was a lot of fluff and at best situational tools listed (at least for this part of the world and regarding this particular job), but despite her appearance she did seem to perhaps have more going on  beneath the cowl. But it was entirely possible that she was hoping for things that didn't actually exist. If nothing else, her presence here meant that Marita wouldn't have to worry about everyone in the party running up to her every time they stubbed a toe. As much as tending to the sick and wounded was such a vital part of the public image of Clerical magic she found it one of the least engaging and restrictive facets of the trade. Perhaps later she'd ask her a bit more of what magic she learned from her grandfather.

Kathryn's skills were a complete non-surprise, but that wasn't the thing about the resident half-giant that grabbed Marita's attention, it was the fact that she claimed to be member of nobility, or at least a high ranking subject or vassal, especially given how half-breeds tended to not make it so far up the social hierarchy. Kathryn must know how disenfranchised she looked, so chances were that she wasn't lying. Neither Nathan Lucas nor Arcanaple sounded familiar to her, at least not immediately but maybe with time she'd recall something. That aside, given how... squishy many of the people at the table appeared, having someone so large and imposing was a bit of a relief. Not to mention Marita's skills synchronized well with Kathryn's.

Suddenly she heard a rather diminutive voice behind her. There stood a gnome. Well it was more like a nose with a gnome attached. He was dressed fairly well to do decked out in a variety of blades and proclaimed himself a wizard, covering himself in a blue glow. Unfortunately for him, even if he had cast [i]meteor swarm[/i] on the tavern she wouldn't have been impressed, and not only because she would almost certainly be dead. Instead she only had time to mark him in her head as the party's second little prick and as another arcane caster before yet another newcomer made her appearance.

Admittedly, Marita had not had much to eat today and the smell of the food made her stomach growl, but at this point it was quite late. The cleric often had trouble sleeping, and eating too soon before bedtime only exacerbated the issue, so when May asked for any orders she waved and gave a perhaps remorseful, "No thank you." Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Alastor excuse himself, and didn't think much of it despite it being perhaps the last time she'd ever see him.

It was then that the (hopefully) last newcomer to this whole situation made his appearance. When he introduced himself as the Sheriff, Marita wasn't surprised in the least. In fact, he managed to be surprisingly close to the mental image of him that she'd had in her head for the past 10 days or so. She was curious what sort of man Gregory was exactly. The manner in which these letters were written sounded quite generic, but the method in which they were delivered at least in her experience was very direct and personal. Did he know ahead of time who he would be inviting to the Arbalest Party? And why did he choose who he did? Especially some of the more suspect members at the table. 

Wordlessly, Marita produced the letter, neatly folded in half, nearly as pristine as the day it was handed to her. She unfolded it on the table and smoothed out the crease as best as she could before presenting it. She gave a brief glance at the others who had already gotten their invitations out. Kosara's was shockingly intact, about as well maintained as her own. Hugh's was a mess, bloodstained on top of that. Marita wasn't sure what exactly to make of that, but her suspicion of him increased a bit further than previously. Assuming everyone else had their shit together they would finally be able to learn what this was all about.