<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/efsHSqo.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Gruemug Balsam (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=333483.msg15884628#msg15884628)<br/><strong>Race and Occupation:</strong>Satyr Soothsayer<br/><strong>Location &amp; Time:</strong>Warbling Cypress Tree- Nearing Evening<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Yokun da Nukoy<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Gruemug's shoulders held themselves in place-stabilised- as he carried two buckets full of goat's milk without spilling much of their contents. Despite how he unbothered looked, he was worried for the fate of that drunk skull basher. Despite the high probability of dying from liver disease, the fool did look somewhat hardy. The satyr convinced himself that Yokun could probably manage. He placed the pails down by the wooden door to his hollow cypress tree and looked for his axe that was lodged on a nearby stump.<br/><br/>The family of song thrushes that lived on branch floor level 6 stopped singing which meant that someone unsettling was nearby. True enough, the satyr turned to find the drunkard carrying his live catch. The satyr's nose nearly crumpled itself, blocking its nerve endings in an attempt to preserve his sense of smell. Yokun reeked when he first met him but now, the putrid aroma had elevated to another realm of repulsiveness. Yokun's stench was mixed with rabbit's piss and other fluids of pheromones and seed. The satyr lived with nature and her generous embraces but he'd be damn if nature smelt like Yokun all the time. Even nature peppered itself with the fragrance of flowers and the fresh breeze.<br/><br/>He handed Yokun a small pouch containing one silver and 20 copper coins.<em>"Here you go, adventurer. I thank ye for yer services rendered."</em>The satyr fished out a few extra shillings from his leather and added it into the pouch. It amounted to five copper.<em>"Please take this here extra coin to acquire some suds bars and blossom oil for yerself. Take a good soak fer later"</em>