<div class="floatright">(https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1074605230408355850/1075689165527719936/Elf_Plant_Whisperer_Sorcerer.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Eloén GLimmerleaf (https://pathbuilder2e.com/launch.html?build=357915)<br/><strong>AC:</strong>15 |<strong>HP:</strong>15 / 15 |<strong>Conditions:</strong><br/><strong>Perception:</strong>+4 |<strong>Senses:</strong>low-light vision<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>All<br/><hr/><br/>Once again the door to the Nentir Inn opened and shut, this time admitting an elvish-seeming woman, clad in simple clothes. Shey rose on tiptoes, wide eyes scanning the taproom as she tugged off her gloves, using heer teeth to help. Finally she saw the dwarf she was looking for, and waved happily, as if he were paying any attention to the door, instead of his business. She fair trotted over to that table. "Sorry I'm late! Sorry, sorry," she says to each of the people with Gudren, stuffing her gloves into a pouch at her hip. "There was a bit of chaos on the road; Karminn Hulfsted's ox just...<em>dropped dead</em>, the poor thing, and it's a big ol' thing, and the cart behind it, so you can... under... stand, oh, I'm sorry! My name's Eloén, what have i missed?"<br/><br/>She slid into a seat, and after a rummage in her pouch, slipped an ampule of liquid into Gundren's hand - his favorite beard-and-brow oil, of course.