<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/zdj9kJl.png)</div><strong>Alexander Gravenholme</strong><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>Current Hp:</strong> 29/29 <strong>AC</strong> 17<br/><strong>Passive: Perception</strong> +11; <strong>Investigation</strong> +10<br/><strong>Languages:</strong> Common, Abyssal<br/><em>Frog percentage: 16%</em><br/><strong>Weapons:</strong> <br/>+5 Greataxe (1d12 +3 x3)<br/>Or +5  Maul (2d6 +3 x2)<br/></div></div><br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>DM, Everyone<br/><br/>Ultimately, besides Acantha arguably, none had much further insights to offer, besides what Alexander had come up with himself. He chuckled silently, watching the wizardly man prepare himself and Cherise struggle her hardest to deny the situation. He avoided mention of Antons situation.<br/>"I'd suspect a haunting of an unforseen scale, but call a horseman to look for hooveprints." If this kept up, people would keep talking about going.<br/><br/>He simply did it, calmly walking down the unsteady road. He was not a leader, he was rather convinced of this, but he'd lonely walk ahead, and others would coincidentially happened to follow. Still, if they hesitated, he'd halt shortly and remark: "Little to find here unless you like a dreary forest." He was not going to look for bats and birds, no matter if the old man claimed they were like family to him.<br/>But perhaps that was the hangover talking.<br/>He returned his hammer back to it's sash on his back, there was little to hammer here after all.<br/><br/>As he continued down the road, he addressed those with him.: "Through unlucky turn of fate, we seem to be bond tighter than expected by necessity, not that I mind any aquaintances made.<br/><br/>So it has not the seeming, of me imposing myself upon you, I humbly suggest we get to understand one anothers abilties and motivations better, if this evil trickery should prove dangerous physically. I, for my part, spent half my life hunting the restless dead, somewhere between vengeance and professional occupation.<br/>I met with the caravan on coincidence, did not expect to stay long. I guess I was technically correct. I beg your pardon if you find me gloomy, occupational hazard." He nodded, then added:<br/><br/>"I plan to follow this road up to the nearest place of civilization, then once you are delivered there, I can get back to my duties."