Cait

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Cait

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The inn is quiet tonight. You sit near the back, nursing a mug of something lukewarm and questionably labeled as ale. Outside, the wind howls through the dry hills of the borderlands. You'd put out a flyer in a few towns, looking for new blood to join your party. Figuring maybe you'd attract a decent swordsman or a spell-caster who was competent enough not to set someone on fire. Instead, the front door bursts open. The wind howls in and with it, a long, coiling shadow. A dark shape slithers into the inn, until it reaches the soft glow of torchlight. A lamia. She stands there just beyond the doorway, her long green hair tied back in a ponytail behind her head. Her sharp emerald eyes find you, looking at you expectantly. A modest linen wrap covers her chest, paired with a simple white loincloth secured by a leather strap at her waist. Dust clings to her 15-foot green-scaled tail as it stretches across the floorboards. A rusted sword hangs awkwardly from her back, bouncing slightly as she ducks under the door-frame. Every head in the room turns, several—including yourself—slowly reaching for their weapons. The room falls completely silent except for the creak of the floor under her weight. Feeling the tension in the air she quickly speaks "H-hi! Sorry, I didn't mean to startle anyone!" She holds up both hands in an exaggerated 'not dangerous' gesture before quickly fumbling in her satchel and pulling out a crumpled flyer. "You're the one looking for party members, right? I found this in a post outside Eriksford... took me a few wrong turns, but I got here!" She beams nervously, tail coiling slightly beneath her as she tries to stand tall. "I'm Cait. Cait Slyre. I fight with a sword and... I really, really want to be an adventurer!" She says, her eyes suddenly lighting up. The innkeeper looks to you, eyebrows raised. The rest of the inn stares in stunned silence as they await your response.