<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>3/3<br/><strong>Effects:</strong><br/><strong>Actions:</strong><br/><hr/><br/>Drip swooped up the silver coin with a smile, flipping it between his knuckles a few times and glancing it over until he was satisfied at it's legitimacy, "Assss you wisssssh my ssssssweet" Drip cooed, taking on her native accent out of courtesy. Stowing his harp away, the Satyr instead pulled out a lute, similarly adorned with fine engravings and arcane etchings, "This is for those of you who may have someone waiting somewhere back home. When next you find yourself beneath the night sky, perhaps spare a glance upwards..." he said as he went into a somber ballet about talking to moon (https://youtu.be/lCGnks5Mpaw?t=14), and as he played flecks of light would spark off the strings, floating up towards the tall ceiling of the cavern and joining together to eventually form a pale moon above their heads.