[center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][table][row][/row][row][cell] [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 [/cell][cell] [right][img]https://i.imgur.com/PwfZZMj.jpg[/img][/right] [/cell][/row][/table][center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center] [color=mediumseagreen]"A fine morning to you all, esteemed colleagues,"[/color] Naivara said cheerfully as she joined the others at the table. Her moonlight jaunt had been restorative. She felt recentered. She felt ready to deal with the complexities of conversation once again. The acres of woodlands scattered across Avonshire was hardly the untouched forest she had longed for, but Naivara had relished her time among what remained of the wilderness. She liked people. She really did. She enjoyed conversations, confusing as they could be. People were fascinating in their own multitude of diverse ways. However, people and talking in high amounts tired the druid. She needed the forest. And she needed the quiet of the wilderness to find balance once more. The plants had spoken of a coming frost. The insects had vanished, no doubt, burrowing into tree stumps and the earth to shelter from the approaching cold. The animals she had encountered during her walk across the darkened landscape were much as she had expected. Skittish but not overly so. Winter might come early to Avonshire it seemed, but Naivara could not detect anything unnatural about the changing season. The exact pace of the seasons was unpredictable and remained a mystery even to the most studied of druids. There were hints and whispers, of course, signs to perceive, and follow, but always, always there was a bit of mystery. Naivara had returned to the Infamous Pear at a late hour, only some time before dawn. She hoped her footsteps had been silent enough not to awaken her new companions. Her rest, her nightly trance, had been strange and full of unfamiliar dreams. Her dreams had brought her back to the strange matter of the letters. She had recalled the ballad of the storied Elven knight-errant Ser Peren Meliamne, Oakenheel in the common tongue. It was a singularly unhappy tale, a great tragedy, concerning the legendary servant of the god Silvanus, the Oak Father. However, Naivara preferred to think of it as a story of great dedication, rather than one of tragedy. An oak leaf had seemed to dance before her and there might have been a unicorn or two in the distance. Unicorns were the favored creatures of the goddess Mielikki, goddess of forests and Daughter of Silvanus, she recalled upon awakening. Naivara had no gift for prophecy. She did not subscribe to beliefs regarding the value of visions. She was no cleric steeped in rituals and holy passages. Perhaps it was a warning, a message from what lay beneath her conscious mind. Perhaps it was a suggestion. Any deeper meaning eluded her but did little to trouble her. She had learned from the forest and the wild creatures that inhabited the Great Eastern Forest. Wisdom was to rely on her own instincts. She had no tongue for prayer and did not overly concern herself with thoughts about any gods. Any messages, whatever they might be, would reveal themselves in due time she reasoned, and she turned her thoughts instead to the impressive selection of breakfast foods arrayed in front of her. [color=mediumseagreen]"Our host is most free with his generosity, is he not? What a kind fellow,"[/color] Naivara added, as she sampled liberally from the assorted food. Her plate was soon full of food. A mountain of bread covered with honey and jam, a hill of scrambled eggs, a desert of cheese, and a sandy beach of baked apples. Unconvinced by the sausage at such early an hour, Naivara chose to leave it untouched.