Angels. Goblins. Elves. Demons. Vampires
“Der Reihe tanzen”
I am starting to feel like a normal human here would be the strangest person of all.
Now that we have arrived at Naclos ( The Enclave), we are getting to see what new things are old news to the residents of this plane.
We now pass by Aasimar, who could pass as Hollywood’s dream version of angels, while we follow Telis to the Hostel were we will be staying the night.
Now, as we start to see more elves, Reid gets the red carpet treatment as he goes the the Town Hall to see the aftermath of a clash against the darker forces we might be facing. The Enclave’s doctor, medic, or Healer maybe? has led the way in showing such deference to our team’s most modest member that I think that he may be starting to blush due to the pretty Alana Smorisette’s attentions. It is as though he is a rock-star surgeon and priest maybe. I am almost sure it has something to do with that innate piousness, ability to heal wounds, and that just Aura-like atmosphere that Kazi noted so suprisedly earlier. While Reid is out we are led to the local bar and our soon to be illustriously illustrative native guide.
The one and only Captain Laquan Alfonso Gareth (the 3rd).
Riverboat Captain, Adventurer, Information broker of shady repute (at best).
This feige Bösewicht if I ever saw one cuts a dashing figure (in the bar at least), and has agreed to take us to our next destination for the low price of some menial labor aboard the boat and of course, our stories.
We begin with a cautious imbibing of local alchololic beverages excepting our wondrous Tychus to whom Archive most graciously (and I suspect soon to be amusedly) has donated their portions in what may soon be an effort in helping Tychus show these good folk the hardiness of our people.
During a most interesting exchange of tales in which Tychus saves the day with a warrior’s humor, I am exploded by a lab partner, and the mates of our dearest of Captains tell the most dry and ambiguous of happenings that I am almost convinced of their untruthfulness, we do at least learn more of why we are each being treated so differently.
As an apparent half orc it is now apparent that without the presence of our modest do-gooder Dr. Clemens, Tychus Findlay is more likely to be hunted as an evil enemy than welcomed with shelter. The Archive meanwhile is yet again insultingly mistaken for a magical robot or golem, and the good Dr. seems recognized by all as though his now pointy ears command respect only to be elevated by his standing as a paladin or healing priest.
Only I am seemingly uninteresting here, as a small harmlessly eccentric human.
After a mostly uneventful night’s rest, we are preparing to fill what outfitting needs we can before the boat launch when Reid tell us of a disturbuing dream that he has just had. Maybe we should see if there is an oracle about these parts.
Then again, I cannot remember a single tale where the visitation of a seher causes anything but trouble for all involved.
Maybe we should just worry about getting ripped off by a money-changer instead?