Like the rest of the furniture in the tavern, the tables and chairs spaced about the room were obviously chosen with the eye of an adventurer. They’re sturdy, but cozy, varying in size to be able to support any worn and weary traveler that may arrive, be they the daintiest fairy or sturdiest troll. Intricate carvings adorn the arms of the chairs depicting various battle scenes and heroic deeds, some more easily discernible than others with how well-worn the surfaces are. The table before you is bathed in the warm glow of lantern light, which casts long shadows across its surface.
The Siren is seated at the table. As you draw near, you would swear you could feel the ocean breeze for a moment, clean salt air cutting through the smoky warmth of the tavern.
You scan the table, not entirely sure of what you’re expecting to find. There’s a few faint rings from the previous patrons’ drinks, along with what might be some very old blood stains on one corner. On the floor you notice various crumbs and a few wet spots of spilled drink still drying from the evening’s previous merriment. Finally, on the underside of the table you notice… what’s this? Something carved into the wood:
“FIBRALUMOS” What an odd find. What could it mean?
Seated before you is a mesmerizing woman whose blue-tinted skin is partially covered in shimmering scales. Her hair is long and flowing, something about it reminding you more of sea-fronds than hair. It almost floats around her, as if she’s brought some of the ocean waves inland with her. You’re momentarily distracted by the glint of a crystal pendant around her neck that sparkles like sunlight on the water. She moves gracefully as she studies a notebook in her hands, her every gesture imbued with mysterious fluidity, as if she were part of the sea itself.
The tools of an alchemist seem almost woven into her graceful gown, potion bottles full of swirling liquids with varying hues line the bandolier around her waist. Who knows what powerful elixirs she could conjure if given the proper ingredients.
Her gaze flicks up to yours, and you choke for a moment on your planned introduction. There’s something so otherworldly about her that you forget what you meant to say, and the greeting fumbles out of your mouth instead.
“Oh, um, hello. Yes, I’m Tua’la, alchemist and apothecary.”
Her voice is soft, like the gentle hush of waves on the shore at night. You think that you could sit and listen to her talk all day.
“Poor, dear Auberon. I can’t imagine who would do something like this to him, or why. Sure, he had some skeletons in his closet, but who among us doesn’t?
What?! Me? I… Well, yes, he did ask me to leave our adventuring group all those years ago. But I wasn’t upset! Well, not for that long, anyway. See, he was right after all, I wasn’t a great fit! I wasn’t the best adventurer, it turns out. I wasn’t a fighter, a wizard, a ranger or a rogue, so I really didn’t bring much to the table, so to speak. Anyway, after I separated from the party, I took on an apprenticeship with an herbalist, and, well, here we are. Everyone else though, they all have reasons for bad blood between themselves and Auberon far beyond what he and I had. I just can’t think who would want to take things this far…”
