[h1][center]DUBUK[/center][/h1]

The Cleric was surprised by the size of the bag of gold that the Human adventurer tossed toward him. Dubuk had grown up in a place where money meant very little, most of the people who inhabited the monastery simply did good deeds to and helped others. Since the Cleric was not so far into his pilgrimage, he was still getting used to the fact that everything had a price in the wider world.

As one of the adventurers announced himself as Akio, another approached Dubuk questioning if he could cast greater restoration. He then mentioned that the spell was for his daughter and that he would pay all he had if Dubuk could heal his child. A pang of sympathy went through Dubuk’s body. This kind of situation was exactly why he had went on this pilgrimage, and yet he knew this kind of healing was beyond his ability.

“My name is Dubuk, mister Edgar. While I am training in the divine arts, I am afraid that power of healing is beyond my current strength. If I had the power to cast that spell, I would, no payment needed. But I’m afraid I can’t. But hopefully one day the gods will bless me enough so that I may heal the terribly sick,” stated Dubuk.

As Dubuk felt bad over his inability to help the man’s family, an Elf approached the pair. She then made a joke about the Cleric being fancy for drinking wine. This made Dubuk wonder if his beverage of choice was rare in the wider world. It had been quite plentiful at the monastery, and yet most people he encountered now were drinking ale or other liquors.

The Elf then introduced herself as Ferezanthe, though she said she could be called Fay. Dubuk was glad about that as he always had problems with pronouncing traditional Elven names, even while studying in Elvish at the monastery.

Akio then appraised the assembled party, noting that each of them filled a role. He then mentioned that he had druidic magic. Dubuk’s ears immediately perked up at the mention of this. While studying in the divine arts, the Cleric had heard of magic that didn’t come from the gods, but rather nature itself. Dubuk had always wanted to see it in actual use, and perhaps he would if the party encountered trouble in their dangerous crossing.

But Dubuk’s musings were cut short when he saw a Dwarf knock over the waitress. While ale spilled everywhere, the Dwarf then kicked the woman in the gut. The innate anger of Orcish blood overtook Dubuk as he marched over to the Dwarf.

“What in the name of the gods are you doing?” shouted Dubuk.

As the Half-Orc stepped up next to the Dwarf, his hand unconsciously reached for the mace on his belt. Given that he was much taller than the Dwarf, Dubuk glared down at him, his eyes looking more Orc than Human in the dim light of the tavern.