<div class="floatleft">(http://i1087.photobucket.com/albums/j480/Erion2451/Class_ElfCleric_zpsxxoglzod.png)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 13pt;">Silaqui Siannodel (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=266718.msg13167949#msg13167949)</span><br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spells</div><div class="spoiler_body">Spells/day: Lv 1: 2<br/><br/>Lv 0: Guidance, Thaumaturgy, Sacred Flame<br/>Lv 1: Bless, Cure Wounds, Guiding Bolt, Healing Word, Sanctuary, Divine Favor, Shield of Faith</div></div><hr/><br/>Silaqui pushed her ale aside and focused on the mutton.  She used the spoon provided and the manners polished from a century of life.  The Raz's slurping or Geiron's need to rush off to do something didn't bother her.  They were short-lived, after all, and their desire to fill every minute with something was enviable, though, bitter-sweet.<br/><br/>She gave a non-committal shrug to the wizard.  She had seen more humans in the last few years than the entire previous century.  It seemed no two were alike, but it did appear that they weren't happy unless they were thumbing their nose at someone, and complaining.  Oh, how they could complain.  There was either too much rain or not enough.  It was "too hot" or "too cold".  Few seldom seemed content with what they had, and perhaps that was why they were able to do as much as they did in their handful of decades.<br/><br/>She turned her attention to the halflings, and wondered if one of their ancestors had defeated the boar hung upon the wall, or if their father had bought the head.  From her seat, amidst the rest, she studied the curios, memorabilia, nick-knacks, and paintings and tried to piece together the history of the tavern, if not the hamlet, from what was displayed.<br/><br/>As for the conversation with the villager's, the Tabaxi had asked the more relevant question, and the answer had been apples.  Silaqui had no love for goblins, but she didn't hear the call to arms over apples and gold.  As another farmer suggested, there was no proof that it was goblins.  Now, if they had hurt someone, that would've been a different story.  However, as more villagers spoke, more things began to seem odd.  Deer, for instance, seldom ate the entire tree.  Even in lean times, there would be something left; scat and footprints, at the very least.  Considering the rains, and that this was, in fact, a swamp, even kobolds and goblins would've likely left prints behind.<br/><br/><strong>"Are there no prints in the ground, around where you planted your trees, to suggest a culprit?"</strong>she casually asked of the two villagers.