<div class="floatright">(https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/035/735/162/large/giulia-ghentiu-inquisitor-syr04.jpg?1615762308)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Laya'vala Marblehart (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2592223)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Silver Fork Inn<br/><strong>Current Hit Points/Max Hit Points:</strong>17/17<br/><strong>AC:</strong>17<br/><strong>Notes:</strong><br/><strong>Actions:</strong><br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/>The Silver Fork Inn was as common a sort of tavern as a copper in a consort's kitchen. The establishment was the right balance of Dwarven solidness and a Port-City's need for fluidity. Even on the outskirts of the town and as far from the dock as it could be, it still had little hints of its surrounding. Salt on the air, mostly. Laya'vala probably didn't fit in nearly as much as she thought she did, being a thin stick of a Half-Elf. Sighting her potential employer though, and the two who had made their way to the table before her, she was at least guaranteed not to be the most conspicuous. The Silver-faired Fox maiden would likely take that honour.<br/><br/>She approached the group and bowed her head apologetically to both the Dwarf and the Half...ling? Odd how you couldn't just slap the first half of one of the lady's races onto the second half of the other, or just call her a 'Half-' something. Would calling her a Half-Tief be considered a slur? "<strong>Sorry for my tardiness. I'm not used to the city yet, and my boat only got into port late last night.</strong>" Laya'vala spoke well, as she'd been taught to by her monastic upbringing. She was educated, and had truthfully been using the time between this meeting and getting off the boat to try and get acquainted with the local area.<br/><br/>She turned to Lucas and Lirashiro, once again offering a polite nod of the head to them both, and to anyone else that joined them. "<strong>Pleasant tidings to you all. I'm Laya'vala; feel free to shorten it as you please. I hope we can all get on.</strong>"  She sat down, straight backed in one of the chairs as things began to unfold as they do. Thuran explained the basics of the task, and the Fox-folks questions were sensible and pertinent, so Laya was happy to let someone else talk. Molthune, as she'd already known from her own studies, remains a land in dire need of Milani's gospel. The possibility that the travellers had been taken as slaves was not a crazy one, but no more likely than wild monsters having taken their toll in blood and loot.