<div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/48/39/50/483950abd871fa27c14a3fc586d8c973.jpg)</div><strong>Ala Summerbloom (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1988967)</strong><br/><strong>HP:</strong>15/15 |<strong>AC:</strong>17 |<strong>Status:</strong><br/><strong>Action:</strong><br/><strong>Roll:</strong><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spells</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>0<sup>th</sup>:</strong> Forbidding Ward, Light, Divine Lance, Guidance, Message<br/><strong>Divine Font:</strong> Heal (x3)<br/><strong>1<sup>st</sup>:</strong> Bless, Sleep</div></div><hr/><br/>Ala had been uncertain about her course. Coming to the Tallfolk town was fraught with danger, after all. She could be stolen away, or trampled by a horse-beast, or, and she had heard it on good authority -<em>eaten by elves</em>. But her tribe was captive, and so far none of that had happened (though it had come close with the horse-beast.) She hadn't even considered hiding her appearance; but then one more halfling wasn't going to get attention, even one bearing the holy symbol of Desna around her neck. What might catch notice is that she was wholly unafraid of the downpour, and when she came into the tavern, she was soaked through, her short hair plastered down around he fuzz-tipped ears, her feathery cloak looking limp, and her blouse clearly showing the darkened pink circles and chill-stiffened peaks of her bounteous chest.<br/><br/><strong>"H-hello? hello!"</strong>She greeted the other halfling with a warm smile in hteir shared language, taking the waitress hands and blowing warmly over the palms in a traditional (most would say archaic) greeting.<strong>"I'd like, that is, I've heard that the martin's shaken ale is... good?"</strong>She flushed with relief that she had, in fact, remembered the proper phrase, and allowed herself to be led back to the table. it already housed two other women, a pale human and a less-pale goblin. Ala paused for just a second, taking them in; she looked to the other halfling, who seemed completely at ease with the situation. So, Ala might as well, too.<br/><br/>She clambered onto the stool offered her, and gave a sniff of curiosity towards the ale.<strong>"It smells like rotten leaves,"</strong>She muttered under her breath, but took a sip anyway; it'd be rude not too. Swish, swish, thoughtful look, swallow. She didn't look impressed, but not disgusted, either. Then, she offered her hand out to the other two women, palm-up.<strong>"I am Ala. And does the ale taste better if it's stirred instead?"</strong>