<hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/2f/25/ac/2f25ac375618d084ecc5fa610718ff33.png)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;">Gerard Leanbo (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2496879)</span></strong></span><br/>Variant Human (M)  Monk 3 (5'4")<br/><strong>AC:</strong>16<strong>Hp:</strong>26/26<strong>Passive perception:</strong>14<br/><strong>Current effects:</strong>none<br/><hr/><br/>Away from the hustle and bustle of the crowd down below perched a soft looking male, arm wrapped(a few times) around the lantern post he was sat upon. He had only come to this city a few days before, and the continent about the same time. It was certainly a sight to see, the people pressing in close and watching them bounce deform and squeeze through. He was not old enough to remember a time before, some at the enclave were, and the stories they told were always fascinating.<br/><br/>It was always fun to pick people out of the crowd, people watching, see which ones did not belong. Surly enough the Bugbear woman was certainly one of those, scantily clad and forceful with her approach. Another was the dragonborn whose scales shown like the sun, certainly a spectacle in and of itself. So as the Dragonborn made to follow the bugbear, the monk made to follow the dragonborn...staying high when he could, scaling walls and streching limbs to make jumps.