[color=#6C2DC7][h1][center]Corin Talmor[/center][/h1][/color]
[center][hider=Character Art][img]https://i.imgur.com/aQgEYQM.gif[/img][/hider][/center]
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[color=#733635][b]Title:[/b][/color] [color=dddddd]The Gem Knight[/color]
[color=#6C2DC7][b]Race:[/b][/color] [color=dddddd]Human (Cyran)[/color]
[color=#733635][b]Class:[/b][/color] [color=dddddd]Paladin — Gem Knight Archetype[/color]
[color=#6C2DC7][b]Interaction:[/b][/color] [color=dddddd]Everyone, in their own special way[/color]
[color=#733635][b]Location:[/b][/color] [color=dddddd]Lhazaar Jungle --> Port Verge[/color]
[color=#6C2DC7][b]Attire:[/b][/color] [color=dddddd]
Think rough-n-tough artisan. Cotton shirt rolled up to the forearms, with a wool artisan coat to cover his torso when he does his craftwork. Brown leather pants with reinforced knee-support, and a practical belt full of pouches and clasps for his various tools..[/color]
[color=#733635][b]Gold Balance:[/b][/color] [color=dddddd]30[/color]
[color=#733635][b]Injuries:[/b][/color] [color=dddddd]Cracked arm, embedded crystalline shard near sternum, mild concussion[/color]
[color=#733635][b]Equipment:[/b][/color]
[hider=Inventory]
[color=#6C2DC7]⋆[/color] [color=dddddd]Oathlight — Reforged longsword of Talmorite alloy[/color]
[color=#6C2DC7]⋆[/color] [color=dddddd]Luminar — Shield of Light and Memory[/color]
[color=#6C2DC7]⋆[/color] [color=dddddd]Necklace of Vowstones (Citrine, Amethyst, Diamond)[/color][color=#6C2DC7]⋆[/color] [color=dddddd]Scale-mail infused with gem-stones, offering an iridescent kaleidoscope of color[/color]
[color=#6C2DC7]⋆[/color] [color=dddddd]Travelling Clothes — simply garb meant to wear out of combat[/color]
[color=#6C2DC7]⋆[/color] [color=dddddd]Artisan’s Clothes — good for working in the forges or workshops[/color]
[color=#6C2DC7]⋆[/color] [color=dddddd]Travelling Cloak — Cloudy blue cloak used to mask his figure[/color]
[color=#6C2DC7]⋆[/color] [color=dddddd]Maintenance toolbelt & travel satchel
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[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/LxsxasM.png[/img][/center]

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Corin had paused. There was a long silence following his question before he slowly sighed. [color=#6C2DC7]”Guess that’s my answer. Oh well.”[/color] The man’s absence had told him what he needed to know for the time being. He was alone. And would have to figure out this poor situation on his own.

Branches clawed at Corin’s cloak as he pushed through the Lhazaar jungle, each step landing with a tired but stubborn certainty. Every joint in his body protested his reckless descent, yet here he was — not a corpse at the base of some forsaken tree, but a very sore, very alive man heading toward Port Verge. Corin stuck to the more traveled paths that would likely avoid any predators or pursuers, but the most persistent tails could stick to him rather easily. 
He shoved aside a curtain of vines. Humid air clung to him like a second skin, the scent of salt beginning to thread its way into the musk of wet earth…the sea was close. Ahead, the undergrowth thinned. A salty breeze kissed his face. Lantern-light flickered through the leaves with Port Verge, nestled at the edge of the world like a hungry grin. Smugglers, pirates, traders, mercenaries, a proper nest of rogues and survivors.
[color=#6C2DC7]”Alright. One foot in front of the other, Corin. You aren’t dead yet.”[/color]

Corin sauntered into the port, keeping his reflexes honed for the various threats that loom in the shadows. Nameless vagabonds rustled in the distance, just out of sight as the new “shmuck” made his way into the bowels of the lion’s den. Corin paid them little mind, unless they decided to approach him. This caution only bubbled beneath the surface however as he approached the stall with the words “Madam Zarra’s” sprawled along its entrance. It was time to see what Port Verge had to offer.

Corin browsed through the wares, thinking of just what he could buy or what he could hear. Information came free if you listened long enough — and Corin had always been a good listener. Besides, his coin purse still felt too light for comfort and he needed to take stock of local “opportunities”.
He was halfway through debating whether the next item was a scam or merely shoddy when a shift in tone cut through the market. Tension, hushed voices, the kind that precedes either applause or violence.
Corin’s head turned.
At the docks' edge stood a group unlike any he’d seen. Five of them — recently untied by a handful of smugglers and sea-scoundrels.
First, a warforged with sun-themed plating, a blue scarf fluttering like it had something to prove. Corin’s eyes immediately shot wide as he recognized the mechanical menace. [color=#6C2DC7][i]Bastion?[/i][/color] Then his eyes moved to a half-elf crowned in bone, nature-touched and wild-eyed beneath a deer skull helm. A yuan-ti woman who was beautiful in an unsettling, [i]too smooth[/i] way, hints of scales catching the light when she moved. A tiefling in starlit skin with an eagle perched like a judgmental sentinel at her side. And a robed wolf-kin in human guise, purple hair flowing in the coastal breeze, eyes too watchful for a simple wanderer. This group had trouble and talent all wrapped in the same bow.
Corin slowed his steps, feigning interest in a cracked spyglass while listening.
The group appeared to have been given two rules: don’t leave and don’t die. Disobey either, and you die. [color=#6C2DC7][i]One of those is kind of inherent, but sure.[/i][/color] He continued looking through the cracked glass as if to admire its craftsmanship while the group was untied.

“When Prince Dane’s ready for you, we’ll come find you. Don’t worry, we’ve got our ways. For now… welcome to Port Verge. Try not to make me regret untying you.”

And there it was. A name to hang onto. And a new group of compatriots to possibly align with. The fact that Bastion was among them meant they would likely be good company, and he was fairly certain he had seen some of them on the Stormrider—with very limited interaction. This was proving to be far more interesting than he could have hoped. It was as if destiny itself was sharpening its teeth—ready to sink itself into himself and the eccentric people present.

So Corin smirked and noticed a group of three immediately begin to break off—the smaller half-elf had proclaimed she was hungry, and the wolf-man followed shortly after. This could be a good chance to meld himself with the group. He chose his path carefully, nonchalantly marching forward until he bumped into the ever-determined Phia on her quest for food. The two collided softly before he innocently smiled. [color=#6C2DC7]”Are you just as lost as me?”[/color]

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