<div class="floatleft">(https://i.postimg.cc/Sx8p1qwx/images-95.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Davriel Nox<br/></span></span><hr/><em>Lvl 4 Eldritch Knight</em><br/><strong>HP:</strong>31<br/><strong>AC:</strong>12<br/><strong>Standard Perception:</strong>4<br/><hr/><br/>Davriel shot a thorougly irritated glare at Milena as Mouser returned to plague them.<em>You called him back. You fucking deal with him.</em><br/><br/>He took a long sip of the brackish water they seemed to be trying to pass off as tea. Wouldn't it be nice if he could just set up shop, hire a few goons to do the legwork, and drink his tea in peace - the proper stuff, not this pond scum.<br/><br/>Sadly it didn't work like that. He was obliged to verify the accuracy of the contents of his reports. House Nox needed reliable information, not wives tales, or they wouldn't have bothered financing him in the first place.<br/><br/>The witch girl informed him of a hunter she'd found who might be useful. Davriel already had Stryker - he didn't nead some crazy old hunter as well. But stopping by the old stoat before they left wouldn't hurt.<br/><br/><strong>"Shara. Stop talking across the room. You may sit at the table. Just... try not to be an embarassment. Or I will let Milena add a new set of bones to her collection."</strong><br/><br/>Davriel sighed deeply. Trying not to let slip just how strained he currently felt.<br/><br/><strong>"Since nobody seems to have anything futher of worth to add," </strong>he noted, glancing dismissivley at Mouser,<strong>"I am going to retire to my quarters. We'll strike out for the nearest homestead mid-morning tomorrow. Stryker, Ithika, you two will be in charge of procuring any supplimental supplies we need to prepare, as well as horses. Milena, I'll leave any other details to you to sort out."</strong><br/><br/>The dhampir excused himself quite abrupltly. It wasn't until he was clear of the commonroom that he was able to breathe easily. His normally handsome features twisted as the transformation he'd been supressing slipped.<br/><br/>Black veins bulged, and muscles shifted, as the thirst threatened to overwhelm reason. But Davriel didn't let it, biting those insticts back until finally, his thirst began to fade.<br/><br/><em>Fucking Mouser. </em>