<div class="floatright">(https://66.media.tumblr.com/0becb8aced0d98fd99922f75174a96f6/tumblr_pns7pl3RhE1r38o8mo1_1280.png)<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Wren Oneshoe</span> (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1246699)<br/><sup><strong>Gnomish Cleric<br/>AC: 16 | HP: 10 | PP: 13<br/>Active Effects:</strong></sup></div></div><hr/>Wren seemed out of place in a dive like this. So out of place that, if you thought about it, you couldn't imagine him anywhere else. What, someone like him having a bowl of rabbit stew in the warm, bright dining room of some soft-faced kind old lady named Martha who would call him "dear"? That would just be weird! No; even with his bright honey-colored hair, gleaming eyes, and earnest smile, a place like the Goblin's Eye was home. In fact it was more comfortable for him than his companions, since his height put him well below the layer of smoke haze.<br/><br/>He had been juggling a wooden coin between his knuckles; a replica of one of the fallen kingdom's coins that he'd "found" from a stall in the market, when the lass approached. Wren's lips pursed, admiring those lush, rolling hills, before turning his eyes up to the blonde, having made it very obvious what caught his attention. "Oh! Issie. Dear, darling,<em>my love</em>, you would put us out into the cold?" he turned his eyes to his companions. "We can't have filled our tab already? I don't feel like I've been nearly drunk enough for that to be true..." A long sigh, then he looked back to Issie. His nose crinkled at the belch issuing from Vagmi. "Then, can I at least have one last kiss, before I am booted, out in the street, to freeze and be eaten by wild beasts?" His green eyes widened and he pouted his soft lower lip at the serving woman. She's seen the size of the raccoons in this town!<br/><br/>Then he sighed and leaned his shoulders back into his chair. "<em>Well</em>, I suppose either we need some more copper, or we go stone cold sober." What a dreadful thought. "I guess Gron didn't think too highly of the quality of ale those goblins left him, huh? Who would have guessed the little goatknuckles would know the good stuff from the oatmeal swill?" he lifted his tankard of oatmeal swill in both hands and took a swig. "Would be intolerable stuff without good ol' Gron seasoning the cups the way he does!" And he raises the tankard in a salute to the half-orc.<br/><br/>He then brought his hands together in a soft clap, making a sparkle of illusory gold dust issue from his hands. "Looks like it's hard labor for us, my loves," he flashed a smile to the whole group, which quickly turned into a grimace, and he muttered quietly. "And I just finally got my boots clean, too." Sniffing, he cast a dazzling smile to Foxglove. "Hey. You say cheap tavern like it's a bad thing! At the White Mare, we woudl have gotten a shot of brandy and a boot to the ass for all we did. Instead, we got several days of beer and the fine company of..." he gestures towards the waggling hips of the departing Issie.