<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/5KEKEYx.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Shadi Bahar</span></strong></span><br/>Character Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1174357)<br/><strong>Fogwall Court</strong><br/><br/><hr/><br/>A nexus for attention; a wizard from Molthune once called Shadi that. Like the tide, her pull was subtle at first -- a hint of prayer incense that tickled the nose, a clatter of beads from one of her many trinkets. Then, with senses piqued, the magnetism became as inexorable as a rip current.<br/><br/>In this faraway land, the description was as apt as ever. Shadi wasn't just interesting, she was<em>exotic</em>. Eyes stared wherever she went and voices whispered. For some, it was youthful beauty that captivated them. Others had their gazes drawn to the intricate braids bound by beads that were scattered throughout her mid-back length hair. Her clothes were unlike anything that one would find elsewhere in the Fogwall Court: diaphanous, violet garments worn in layers above burgundy robes that hung loosely from her shoulders, sagging just enough to reveal her collarbones. But perhaps most intriguing of all were the items that seemed to clash against easily assigned labels: a well-maintained weapon strewn across her back and accented with vibrant feathers, worn and dusty leather boots that had walked the Inner Sea, and an equally battered pack thrown over a shoulder that seemed to jingle with the weight of gathered mementos just as much as the bejeweled woman that carried it.<br/><br/>At the moment, Shadi curiously pondered over Lutsag's stock. A pan seemed a practical thing to take as a souvenir, a fitting enough reminder of what would be the final leg of her journey. The Swallowtail Festival was a fortuitous coincidence that had been pinned to the end of this pilgrimage of hers as a high note to end on. Shadi was both excited to experience one last bit of foreign culture and saddened to know that she would be making the return trip back to Qadira afterwards. While she had the memories of her travels and a bag full of knickknacks to remember the people she met along the way, Shadi still felt that something was missing.<br/><br/><em>Ting</em>. A metallic ring hummed softly as the young woman tapped a knuckle against one of the metal cooking instruments. There was a saying about appreciating art with your eyes and not your hands, but as a potential customer, Shadi felt it appropriate. "Hey, Mister Lutsag?" The priestess' voice matched her exterior; gentle, beautiful, and tinged with a foreign accent that had a slightly different cadence and modulation than the local speech. "How much do you usually charge for your wares? I am thinking about taking one of your pans home. It will make for good memories of this day." Shadi offered the dwarf a bright, beaming smile.