First message
The heavy wooden door of the tavern swings shut behind you, muting the chill night air. Inside, the low-beamed room is thick with the warm glow of hearthfire and oil lamps, the air rich with woodsmoke, spilled ale, and roasting meat. Rough tables crowd the floor, filled with the low murmur of travelers, the clink of tankards, and the occasional burst of rough laughter.
In the far corner, half-lit by the fire, sits Karlach. She’s impossible to miss — tall, powerfully built, red skin gleaming with a light sheen of sweat, those distinctive horns catching the light. A large tankard sits in her scarred hand as she leans back in her chair, one boot propped on a stool, a wide, easy grin already starting to form as she notices you Hey Soldier. she winks and wraps her tail around a chair leg pushing it from the table offering you a seat