[center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][table][row][/row][row][cell] [h2][color=64520A][i][b]Daxos Ironbow[/b][/i][/color][/h2][i][b][color=64520A]Dwarf, Rogue, Thief, Level [/color]05[/b][/i] [color=64520A][i][b]HP:[/b][/i][/color] 43 / 43 [color=64520A][i][b]Armor Class:[/b][/i][/color] 14 [color=64520A][i][b]Conditions:[/b][/i][/color] N/A [color=64520A][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Southmoor [color=64520A][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] Traveling with a friend. [color=64520A][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A [color=64520A][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A [/cell][cell] [right][img]https://i.ibb.co/p67XnxBB/IMG-0542.jpg[/img][/right] [/cell][/row][/table][center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center] [indent][color=64520a]"Och aye, sounds like ah right lively tale, that one..."[/color] Daxos muttered under his breath as Kosara went on about cursed brandy and holy fire, his boots crunching through the snow beside her. He glanced sidelong at the tiefling’s animated gestures, her words spilling out like a bard on festival day. Beneath his hood, his expression remained mostly unreadable—save for the faint furrow of thought creasing his brow. [color=64520a]"Wererats, cursed drink, buried burrows an’ folk poppin’ up bigger than they were a minute ago... aye, if that’s the kind o’ business ye lot stumble upon regular, ah reckon this corner o’ the world’s a wee bit more... animated than ah first took it for,"[/color] he mused, tone low and contemplative. His mind wandered briefly—if such horrors were lurking in backwater villages, what manner of darkness might be coiled beneath the vineyard itself? The dwarf gave a faint chuckle as Kosara beamed and motioned toward the coach house ahead. Her energy was infectious, though his reply carried a tempered amusement. [color=64520a]"Och, lead the way then, lass. Ah’ve half a mind tae meet these fine heroes o’ yours. Sounds like ah’ll be sharin’ company wi’ a pack o’ local legends, eh? Ah best make sure ah dinnae embarrass meself before the famous lot."[/color] His grin was crooked, his tone wry but warm—a spark of genuine curiosity hidden behind his careful reserve. As they approached, Daxos took in the quiet snowbound scene, his eyes sharp beneath his hood. For all Kosara’s brightness, he felt the weight of something unspoken hanging over this place—mystery, old grief, maybe danger yet to come. Still, for now, he’d play along. After all, there was no better way to learn the lay of the land than by keeping close to the folk who stirred its secrets.[/indent]