<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/lRMz7.png)   <br/></div><strong>Character</strong>: Tragon Talonius (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=68023)<br/><strong>Bio</strong>: https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=219261.msg10788024#msg10788024<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Docks of Doraga<br/><strong>Wearing</strong>: Brand new boots, polished chain shirt, matching breeches, loose tunic and cloak of deep blue cloth, ornate rapier at his side. Gold-wire spectacles. Starched white ascot. Brimless cap.<br/><strong>Tagging</strong>: Open<br/><hr/><br/>"Aarlyn. Other Lynn. Penny, Largo," Tragon greeted each in turn, memorizing their names and faces. A collection of people like this passing through Toropen, his home town, would have been the central subject of conversation for weeks thereafter. An elf, for the sake of the gods. Or a partial elf, at least. He knew little about their customs. He had a fair grasp of the dwarven language and culture thanks to his mentor, Carcos, but in all of his life he could count the elves he'd even seen on one hand, with a reasonable number of fingers left over.<br/><br/>"Ehren, I have a pair of mules back at the inn with the rest of my belongings, but I'd thank you for the use of a horse." Tragon had not packed lightly. Suspecting that it would be a long time before he returned home, he'd crated up his entire alchemical lab, much to the consternation of Bonehead and Muckbottom. They were not animals of a particularly regal bearing, but they could haul with the best of them.<br/><br/>"Sooner begun is sooner done, M--" --<em>other always says</em>. Tragon stopped himself in the middle of speaking. That was not the sort of reputation he wanted to engender with these new friends. "--y thought is," he finished. "Trail rations will be fine, of course."<br/>