<div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/39/cf/df/39cfdf37f5311156efc29c339e815e8e.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Perth Amberfield (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1483605)<br/><strong>HP:</strong>4/9 (-5 NL)<strong>AC:</strong>20 (T 14, FF 17)<br/><strong>Fort:</strong>+2<strong>Will:</strong>+2<strong>Ref:</strong>+6<br/><strong>Limited Resources:</strong>Bardic Performance: 6/7 | 1<sup>st</sup>level Spells: 2/2<br/><strong>Am I okay losing to this foe:</strong><br/><hr/><strong>"I think that's the actual name of the language, yeah,"</strong>he flashed a smile to the elf, peering at the prone mass of tentacles and gobliny-bits.<strong>"I don't think she'll want to talk when she wakes up. And from that lump Magnhild put on her head, I think it'll be a while before that happens; <em>I'm</em> not wasting a spell on her.</strong>" He rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing a little<strong>"She didn't really seem the small-talk sort."</strong>Clearing his throat, he shrugged.<strong>"Could tie her up in a sack if you really want to try to interrogate her, pretty sure it'd get out of anything else. or just throw her back... Or..."</strong>He left the obvious, and easiest solution unsaid, instead casting his eyes about the shore they find themselves on.<br/><br/><strong>"If they ran off somewhere, we'd find the best signs outside the walls, right?"</strong>He genuinely didn't know and was asking Munieth. He gestured with the butt of his dagger.<strong>"Could start with the tents. Though..."</strong>he frowned.<strong>"If they ran off to the woods, why would they leave all those tents..."</strong>Perth gnawed his lip, a sense of worry creeping in.<br/><br/>Luckily Tinalia was there to distract.<strong>"Oi, Magic's easy. You just... you <em>think</em> about it. Not too hard though! Don't go squeezing your head too hard, you let it flow. I dunno what it is for you, but for me, it's... you ever had a song stuck in your head? Kind of like that, except I can change what it sounds like and..."</strong>Click! Click! Click! He snaps his fingers, and with each click, a light appears; one violet, one mint-green, one cinnamon-red. They begin orbiting Tinalia's head. He tucks his dagger back into his sheath and loops his arm around the merchant daughter's  lower hips, since he can't reach her waist from here.<strong>"Stick with me, if you like; I'm better in a fight when I'm not in a boat with a one-of-those trying to wriggle into my trousers,"</strong>he pointed towards the senseless grindylow.