Mobeus
Apprentice
With a sprinkling of snow and gentle breeze, the streets of Calanhelm are bustling as they normally are this time of year. No rest for the wicked, nor blessed alike, as everyone has something to do during these harsher months. A figure with a blue cloak makes his way slowly through the streets, his face obscured by his hood, and his frame covered by a soft white fur shoulder cover. Entering the Ogre Head, he seats himself at the bar without much to say, places a coin down and requests a drink before solemnly pulling out a small black codex.
The figure begins to write in the book as his drink arrives rather quickly, quickly thanking the barkeep by placing a silver coin down for them. Slowly reaching to his hood, the figure removes it gently and places the drink towards his lips. Some people recognize him, others seem to pay him little mind, but the hush tones at the bar are clear and his name is spoken in those whispers, "Mobeus".
Mobeus sighs for a moment, placing his hand in his left satchel and pulling forth a beautiful notice inviting him to this very place in a few weeks hence. Tracing his hand over the filigree, he smiles briefly, "It does my heart well to know you are still strong and vibrant, hosting us rabble for so many years." briefly his eyes become somewhat glassy in appearance, he tenses and bites his lip and closes them firmly for a moment before placing the missive back in his satchel as if trying to actively keep his composure.
The figure begins to write in the book as his drink arrives rather quickly, quickly thanking the barkeep by placing a silver coin down for them. Slowly reaching to his hood, the figure removes it gently and places the drink towards his lips. Some people recognize him, others seem to pay him little mind, but the hush tones at the bar are clear and his name is spoken in those whispers, "Mobeus".
Mobeus sighs for a moment, placing his hand in his left satchel and pulling forth a beautiful notice inviting him to this very place in a few weeks hence. Tracing his hand over the filigree, he smiles briefly, "It does my heart well to know you are still strong and vibrant, hosting us rabble for so many years." briefly his eyes become somewhat glassy in appearance, he tenses and bites his lip and closes them firmly for a moment before placing the missive back in his satchel as if trying to actively keep his composure.