<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/lRMz7.png)   <br/></div><strong>Character</strong>: Tragon Talonius (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=68023)<br/><strong>Bio</strong>: https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=219261.msg10788024#msg10788024<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Docks of Doraga<br/><strong>Wearing</strong>: Brand new boots, polished chain shirt, matching breeches, loose tunic and cloak of deep blue cloth, ornate rapier at his side. Gold-wire spectacles. Starched white ascot.<br/><strong>Tagging</strong>: Open<br/><hr/><br/>He had arrived late the previous evening, paying exorbitantly for a private vessel when told it was either that or wait a day for the next public craft. The added expense may as well have been tossed in the river; the craft he'd hired had been barely watertight, making miserable time and putting into shore frequently for, as the feeblebrained captain had put it, "jes a little fixin'". In the end Tragon had arrived at the town of his destiny with wet boots, a pair of more than customarily irate mules, and little choice but to take a room in the first available inn and hope for a better start in the morning.<br/><br/>At least the early arrival had afforded him time to rise with the sun and dress properly for the occasion. The clothes were new -- the boots still pinched and squeaked -- commissioned by his mother as a final going-away present. Tragon walked through the awakening town, deftly moving to avoid contact with any of the other early risers. It was not hard to spot the persons of interest as he neared the docks. The handsome man with the small herd of horses had to be Crassus' envoy, while the women disembarking the rivercraft and approaching him had to be -- his sisters. The notion was strange; Tragon had been raised as an only child. Though he had always known his father had other heirs, the reality of it hadn't touched him until this moment. They certainly were an interesting bunch. His clever eyes darted over them as he approached, noting styles of dress, condition of armaments and other telltale signs of personal history.<br/><br/>He quickly deduced, for example, that one of these four women was a halfling, and he even knew which one. He further concluded from an examination of the other three that his father must have been considered an extraordinarily attractive man, or at least had such taste in women.<br/><br/>Tragon stepped forward nearly simultaneously with another well-dressed gentleman, approaching from the opposite direction. He held his tongue to give the other a chance to speak, but no words were forthcoming.<em>One of those</em>, he thought.<br/><br/>"Greetings, kinfolk," he announced, bowing and removing his brimless scholar's cap. "And to you as well, sirs. I am Tragon Talonius, and I imagine that announcing my heritage would be neither necessary nor impressive to all of you. So I'll just say that it's a pleasure to meet you all."<br/>