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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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[color=mediumseagreen]"Good fortune, indeed,"[/color] Naivara replied to the bard, summoning what she hoped would come across as a cheerful smile. The friendliness of the bard pleased her. She hoped there would be more pleasant conversations and perhaps even music. [color=mediumseagreen]"Assuredly the Moon smiles on this endeavor, otherwise the unmarked paths would not have lead me here with such haste."[/color]

The words of the Sheriff had startled Naivara. His words were ominous. His features weighted with worry. He seemed an honest man. He seemed too serious of a man to be spouting idle nightmares born from fever or a bottle. Naivara felt uncertainty ripple over her as unwelcome waves on a mirrored pond. She was unused to the ways of civilized folk. Subterfuge usually had little place in the wilderness. The questions of her new companions had been wise. They had been clever. Her mind strayed to her early lessons. To stories Brown Fur had told her, had whispered over campfires in the cold nights. Warnings. Old stories. Stories passed from one druid to another about unnatural shapeshifters that stalked the forests and sought out victims from among the unwary. Dopplegangers, she recalled. She had been warned about such devious creatures, but she could not recall any stories of groups or any great number of dopplegangers operating together in unison. Certainly not in a township. All the same, there was much she did not know, Naivara reasoned. Her experience was limited. And she had precious little experience with such shapeshifting monstrosities. Unconvinced, but tinged with caution, she chose to keep her thoughts to herself.

Gold coins, shiny as they were, held little interest to the young druid. She was no corvid lusting for a shiny trinket and she was no greedy mercenary trying to strike it rich off the misfortune of others. She knew how to live off the land. She did not need much. However, with twenty gold coins she could do much good and perhaps even buy some cinnamon buns. She would not refuse the payment the good Sheriff offered. Gold, distastefully used and coveted as it often was, perhaps inevitably was, could still be used for worthy endeavors. She had old friends to help. She had strangers to aid. There was always much work to be done.

Turning her thoughtful gaze towards the Sheriff, Naivara spoke plainly, [color=mediumseagreen]"I do not seek any great rewards. However, if you should have any items in your possession that belong to the forest, then I shall be grateful to take possession of any such items. I would see them returned to the wilderness, where they belong."[/color]