<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/PAl5eEo.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Drip Hazelfuff (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2536081)<br/><strong>HP:</strong>21/21 -<strong>AC:</strong>15<strong>Spells:</strong>lv.1 - 4/4  lv.2 - 2/2<strong>BI:</strong>2/3<br/><strong>Effects:</strong><br/><strong>Actions:</strong><br/><hr/>The satyr had taken to riding the whiskey hauling donkey, softly humming to himself all the while during their small trip. When they reached town Drip was...well, "impressed" was far from the right term to describe the village, but it was pleasingly quaint none the less.<br/><br/>"d'aaaw, what a cute little place this is" he mused, unclear if he was being sarcastic or not. Having grown up within the fantastical realm of the feywilds, such a mundane place as this held it's own kind of novelty to him.<br/><br/>When they entered the inn the boy's floppy ears perked up, his drama senses tingling. Well wouldn't you look at that, a widowed innkeeper suddenly thrust into a compromising situation, forced to adhere to an outdated custom she wanted nothing to do with, "well looks like we've hit our payday guys" he whispered to the other members of the party before turning to the innkeeper, "Greetings fair missus. You must be the mother our new friend has spoken so highly of" Drip said, motioning back to Bekn, "it's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance" he cooed with a sweeping bow.