<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/fzmWUUx.jpg?1)<br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Familiar: Croquette</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://i.imgur.com/vyPKvFe.jpg)</div></div></div>Groza Kaal (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2353289)<br/><strong>HP:</strong>21/21<strong>AC:</strong>12<div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spells</div><div class="spoiler_body">Sorcerer: lv0. 5/5 - lv1. 4/4 <br/>Warmage: lv0. 6/6 -  lv1. 5/5</div></div><br/><strong>Location:</strong>Golden Goblin -<strong>Tagging:</strong>Thurok, open<br/><strong>Conditions:</strong><br/><strong>Actions:</strong>Spot check to see if any of the bards stand out or match her father's description (white hair, around 50, etc.) Roll: 10 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=151220)<br/><hr/>Groza had spent the past month riding along the coast on her way to Suzail. Her search had kept her mostly inland in recent months, but news of this grand festival had drawn her seaward. As she rolled into town in her carriage, dropping off the small gang of hitchhikers she had kindly picked up along the way, the green witch was taken back by the lively scene before her. The Academy had put on it's fair share of elaborate festivals, and they perhaps trumped this one as far as flashy arcane spectacle went, but the sheer scale of it was out of this world. It was a veritable army of musicians marching through the city. Of course any true officer would sneer at that comparison, seeing how the chaotic mass of bards lacked anything approaching proper military precision, though she wasn't sure if that made them more or less frightening. With no space of her horses she had to abandon her carriage rather quickly, weaving through the sea of bodies as she made her way through the city. The gathering of bards was truly dazzling...but also daunting. She had come here believing she might finally find a solid lead on her father, but she was quickly starting to realize that going around town searching for a bard was going to be like trying to find a needle in a haystack, except the haystack was made up of other, near identical needles. It wouldn't help that the details she had on him were nearly two decades out of date.<br/><br/>With a small sigh Groza pushed her way out of the crowded streets and into the similarly crowded Golden Goblin. While it was no less ruckus inside, it was at least a type of energy she was more familiar with. Back home her mother had taken her to rowdy bars like this on occasion, both to take part in the revelry and break it up when it got out of hand, and the soritas parties back at the Academy...well needless to say she was used to navigating this kind of chaos. Despite how crowded the place was, it was impossible for a towering, chiseled jade statue of an orc to not stand out, especially one dressed as a witch of all things. Clutching her wide brimmed hat, Groza ducked through the crowd and made her way to the bar, ordering herself a full bottle of the place's top shelf wine. Granted a place like this probably didn't pride itself on it's extensive collection of fine vintages, so buying the expensive stuff was less about flexing her coin purse and more about trying to squeeze out something at least serviceable by her own standards.<br/><br/>With bottle and glass in hand Groza scanned for any available seating, find little in terms of prime real estate. There was at least one table still open, at least partially, and the statuesque sorceress approached the pair with a polite smile, "Mind if I steal a chair?" she asked, more a formality than an actual question, setting her drink down and pulling out one of the empty seats, plopping down with a relieved sigh. She would turn her chair to face mostly away from the other two, not wanting to intrude on whatever they were talking about, and instead turned her attention to the stage, casually scanning over the line of entertainers waiting for their turn to perform.