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[h2][color=mediumseagreen][i][b]Naivara Gray[/b][/i][/color][/h2][i][b][color=mediumseagreen]Wood Elf, Druid (Circle of the Moon), Level 3[/color][/b][/i]
[color=mediumseagreen][i][b]HP:[/b][/i][/color] 24 / 24	[color=mediumseagreen][i][b]Armor Class:[/b][/i][/color] 16	[color=mediumseagreen][i][b]Conditions:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=mediumseagreen][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] The Infamous Pear
[color=mediumseagreen][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=mediumseagreen][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=mediumseagreen][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A 
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[right][img]https://i.imgur.com/PwfZZMj.jpg[/img][/right]
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Greatly amused by the display of magic that the newly arrived gnome had performed, Naivara cheerfully clutched her second tankard of ale and eagerly awaited the toasted rye slices with spicy smashed beans and green-marble cheese that she had excitedly requested from the illustrious Miss May. Spices were one of the things Naivara loved most about civilization, second perhaps only to her love for cinnamon buns. Uncertain of how long she would stay in civilization, Naivara was a firm believer in always expanding her pallet when given the chance.

The young druid had clapped honestly and with a broad smile when the bard, Victoria, had clapped for the gnome wizard and his display of magic. Naivara perceived there to be much hope for amusement given the composition of the party. A good show was unfortunately rare in the deep forest. Traveling bards seemed oddly reluctant to share their talents with the wild animals of the forest. A missed opportunity in Naivara's opinion. Bears were not traditionally known for their love of music, but Naivara knew from experience that with a small amount of honey and a gentle tone, even the crankiest of ursine creatures could be coxed to partake in all manner of humorous festivities. Perhaps she would discuss the matter with Victoria at some later, Naivara mused. It was a shame to deprive the forest animals of wonderful things like music.

The conversations of the party moved much too fast for her comfort and Naivara was content to simply listen, offering polite nods when she suspected it was appropriate, and soft smiles when it seemed reasonable. The party was touched by magic she concluded thoughtfully as she learned more about her new companions. She did not mind this. Magic flowed through all things. Some of it was divine, some of it was arcane, and other parts of it, the often forgotten parts, were touched by nature itself. Magic was natural, magic was good, even if magic was occasionally turned towards vile, unnatural pursuits, [b]true[/b] magic was not tainted by such evil and base motivations.

The Sheriff, the grizzled human man that finally appeared in front of the party, looked to be the capable sort. There were signs of age in his features and composure, but Naivara did not note the slowing that she had come to expect of old humans. She watched him carefully, shifting lightly in place as she noted the grim sword and chainmail armor he wore. It was her habit to treat all strangers, especially strangers with weapons cautiously. The smell of of oiled metal and worked leather accompanied the serious looking constable. Familiar scents for those inclined to martial pursuits. However, there was another smell, something faint, something half-remembered that Naivara could not quite manage to identify.

Once more withdrawing the letter that she had mysteriously received, Naivara handed the neatly folded piece of paper to the Sheriff with a cautious smile, [color=mediumseagreen]"Here is your letter, I am Naivara, Naivara Gray."[/color]

Content with her second exceedingly brief introduction of the day, Naivara returned to quietly studying the interesting people surrounding her.