Merchant of Information.

During the quieter nights at the Royal Oak Inn, a stunningly attractive female drow with long silvery hair tied back in a thick ponytail sits in one of the darker corners of the tavern. The routine of the woman is always the same. She is either eating quietly, writing in an old journal with a worn out spine, or, strangely enough, quietly giggling at seemingly nothing. If someone approaches her with vitriol, she blows out the lone candle at the table and disappears from sight. If someone approaches her for conversation, she smiles and leans forward, her elbows on her knees as she eyes them sanguinely with her deep scarlet eyes.

"Greetings," she says in a soft tone, "I am a merchant of information for those who wish to seek it. Name what you wish to discover and I will find it. I hope we can do business."


\\PMs are okay.