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Gold and honor are laughably far from the realms of Perric's life up to this point; 70 gold is several times more than he and his mother made last year. He blinks the shock away and turns the sending stone over in his hands. It's the one thing he has that the others don't. Honor, the Goliath has...

When the Goliath brushes off his question, Perric sighs and begins constructing an explanation in his thoughts, but footsteps ring out before it can be brought to fruition. The drow is another type Perric doesn't want any attention from, so he studies the floor intently while keeping his ears...

Perric stiffens as Sardis' attention falls upon him briefly, managing only a quiet nod in return for her bow, eyes averted. For a split second, the broken voice is a welcome distraction, but as his gaze swings over to the (equally broken) woman, his breath catches. There are so many things...

"Ahhhahah." Perric's confused filler turns into a laugh before he can help himself when the other man in the cell suggests his presence was anything but an accident. He has the decency to curb his rudeness rather earlier than Sardis could do her own, and tries to pass it off as a cough. But as...

Perric looks down at the stone the woman mentioned and opens his grip, studying its contours resting in his palm. "I'm... not sure. It's not mine. It's, it's..." He pauses, trying to think of the best way to phrase it. "When everything happened, a halfling left me with this and a promise that...

As Perric comes to, a fuzzy outline enters his vision. He blinks a few times and the shape crystallizes into the Goliath from that night, towering over him, driving his thoughts away whatever preoccupations troubled his shallow dreams. His body jolts with surprise and he tries to scramble back...

Perric lets the self-pity wash itself out. He has little choice in overhearing the words being spat, but the subject matter is the type he's only heard in the classic tales of blood and adventure that the old men of his town love to trade. Hidden identities, assassins with threats as sharp as...

He will later recall the tale with a hint of shame, for when the Goliath begins throwing sharp objects around, he cowers. Without space for a breath: his own feet trip him backwards, his back hits the wall, the threadbare tapestries upon it clatter to the floor, a gloved hand yanks him by the...

He was already having a long day. Perric had finally arrived in Waterdeep that afternoon, and after sorting lodgings and supper he skipped out to begin his resupply. He was met with a mixed bag of successes and failures; the tried-and-true herbs and serums were in short supply. He'd waited too...