Re: Deadwood, 31 Talisandre 620 N.A.
Callianos wanders about the small town of Deadwood, taking in what sights he can for a few moments.
That's all it takes for him to be certain he's seen quite most of what Deadwood has to offer. His eyes dart about the populace, scurrying about their staid and ordinary lives, ever watchful for the one whom he came here seeking. But, of course, Fortuna has not, apparently sought to bless him in his search today.
"Perhaps that strange lot has made its way to the Grey Tower. They should prove interesting folk, at the least," he mutters to himself, stepping over some ogront dung.
Making his way back to the inn, Callianos steps through the front door with a flamboyant swish of his cape to reveal the stock of his prized lutara. He offers a warm smile to all whose eyes greet him, and a clap upon the back of the Zandir with whom only hours ago he'd found himeslf in a friendly game of chance with.
He looks about the place, catching sight of the strange group who'd caught his attentions at the windship tower. A small smile upon his face, a merry twinkle in his eye, he moves to the bar.
"A drink, if you will," he says to the bartender, "And something light and sweet, perhaps from a Zandu vintner or some refreshingly invigorating skoryx, if you have it. If not, I will take the best you have to offer."
Winking at the bartender and leaning in conspiratorially, Callianos says softly, "And put it on his tab if you would."
The Sarista hooks his thumb towards the Gryph.
"I believe he owes me a drink."