<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/zdj9kJl.png)</div><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>Acantha, Melinor, the sleepers!<br/><hr/><br/>Alexander in the dream is moderatly concerned. Beasts are a much larger issue than undead, to him. Still, he keeps wandering on, reaching for his spade-axe and drawing it silently and with a stoic expression when troubles close in. He plants himself camly infront of the lady and old man, not because he wanted to, but because thats what he was supposed to.<br/><br/>When he awoke, he noticed the absence of tents. The Vistani had been rather lively for haunts, so something else was going on. A dream, a spell, an onverindulgance of alcohol, it matters not, the first thing he did was dress up proper, deciding to sheathe his axe, only to carry his not much less small or destructive looking, cross shaped hammer loosely over his shoulders, like the worlds most agressively proselytizing priest.<br/><br/>He looked from the road to the forest, to everyone else, if they had waken up or not. He pondered.<br/>If he was not going insane (and, he was quite sure of that), then he had been transported into the forest of his dreams. His head hurt too realistically to still be asleep. So what to do...<br/>If he was alone, he'd simply wander down the dirty road, figure these things out later. Perhaps those Vistani had played a strange prank or spell on them. Well, he was not alone.<br/><br/>He cleared his throat, then cleared it again, a slight rasping of drunkness had to be shaken off, luckily, he had a mostly full waterskin to help with that.<br/><br/>He was -terrible- at waking people up. It was pretty much the opposite of his job, after all. He decided loudly speaking up would help.. but what would he say? 'Wake up everyone?' Genius Alexander, pure genius. He shook his head, and decided to move from one to the other, shaking them gently if they didn't wake up on their own yet, treating them to the sight of a solemn undertakers face first thing in the morning, and, if that elicited any stares, the excuse of:<br/>"This is strange for me as well. But there is reason to get up early."<br/><br/>He looked down the road, leading away from the fog. Even if the dream had been just that, it seemed the least best option.. but perhaps someone else had a smarter idea. Like a way to un-magic whatever had happened here.<br/>For now, he'd keep his hammer drawn. He'd dealt with supernaturally animated things before. A good hammering fixed up many haunts right proper.<br/>Well, to be honest, he was hoping it was not a ghost. He'd take a brain-gnawer or skeleton over swinging at thin air with most of his attacks on any day of the week.