<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/w0Ixvtd.jpeg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Delphina 'Del' Briglaine<br/><strong>AC:</strong>18|<strong>HP:</strong>17 / 17 |<strong>Conditions:</strong>-<br/><strong>Perception:</strong>+5 |<strong>Stealth:</strong>+7 |<strong>Senses:</strong>-<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open<br/><strong>Content:</strong>-<br/><strong>Actions:</strong>-<br/><hr/><hr/>The Nentir Inn and Taproom. A young woman in black leather stood outside, looking over the establishment with an appraising eye. There was a quiet sort of confidence to her, noticeable in the posture she kept and just how comfortable she looked regardless of surroundings. She smirked to herself. The cheapest meeting place in town; how very much like the Gundren that she knew.<br/><br/>Five years ago, she would have sworn that she would have never visited such a place. But things change. Del certainly had, as did the company she kept. The interior of The Nentir Inn and Taproom was well known to her these days. Her new "friends" shared Gundren's fondness for making sure that their vices were light on their pockets.<br/><br/>Del entered with all the swagger of someone that thought they owned the place. Who knows, if she cleaned up her act, accepted her parents' money, and shacked up with some foppish noble then maybe she actually<em>could</em>have bought the place. That wasn't who she wanted to be, though. A few drinks and cheers were raised in her direction as she walked to the counter, some folks even greeting her by name. For better or worse, these were the circles that Del traveled in now. The people felt more genuine. Their hardships were more relatable. While Del could absolutely still engage in pointless flattery and gossip about the latest fashion faux pas, it was all so very tiresome. And boring.<br/><br/>"Hey,  you louts!" Del called out to a table full of faces that she recognized. Good for nothing thieves and scoundrels every one of them,  but also the closest thing to friends that Del could ever say she had. "Shouldn't you be out there working?"<br/><br/>"We are workin'!" one among them retorted. "Workin' on gettin' to the bottom of these here drinks." The table erupted into a raucous, drunken laughter that Del joined in on. Mugs were tapped together, ale sloshed and spilled on the table. One adventurous soul, perhaps a little too full of liquid courage, patted at a spot on the bench and addressed Del directly. "Oi, Del, why don't you bring that pretty backside of yours over here and have some drinks with us?"<br/><br/>Del leaned back against the counter and smiled at the invitation. "Sorry, boys. Got a gig lined up. Just meeting the guy here to hammer out the details." Her head then angled back to glance at the manager behind the bar. "Say, where is that copper-pinching dwarf, anyway?"<br/><br/>Upon being informed of Gundren's tardiness and his agreement to pay for a drink, Del nodded to one of the barmaids. It was an unspoken gesture that meant "the usual," which happened to be whatever was the most watered-down drink that day. For as long as she had been practicing this hobby of hers, Del had yet to acclimate to a few things, the taste of alcohol being one of them. She had to drink<em>something</em>though, and water wasn't going to cut it if she wanted to fit in. So Del compromised with the weakest stuff she could get her hands on. Still looked and smelled like alcohol while only being moderately disgusting. Helped keep the ol' noggin sharp too.<br/><br/>Waiting alone in the sectioned off booth didn't sound like an appealing proposition to Del. She regarded the lonely space with a grimace and then spun on her heel. It seemed that she would be accepting that invitation to the table of drunks after all. Once Gundren showed or if Del spied others headed back to the booth, then it wouldn't be a problem to extricate herself with a few apologies and a promise that she would join them again some other time. Until then, Del sipped at her drink, doing her best to suppress any protests to the taste that her face might show while trying to steer the conversation toward any rumors that might be floating around the streets.