Rynoth
The Opinionated Innkeeper offers his observations about Rynoth thusly:
"Rynoth? Sure, I 'member that one. One o'them wolfish types what came through here recently. Hands off th'silverware! Yer not meltin' it down t'make arrowheads, y'hear? And he's not that sort o'wolfish type besides! No shapeshifting, no prancin' about naked in th'forest while howlin' at th'moon, and definitely no gnawin' on some poor sod's thighbone fer dinner!"
"No, no, I don't know just what t'call him. Heard him say Tierian, but I couldn't make heads nor tails o'whether that's his species or th'place he comes from. Anyway, ye'd have a hard time mistakin' him fer th'thighnibblers unless mebbe yer stumblin' round half drunk in th'dark lookin' fer the privy, because aside from th'walkin' upright wolf what talks bit, there's none o'the feral look - actually, he's better kept, groomin'-wise, than most o'the humans an' elves 'round these parts - and he wears clothes proper-like; even has some sandal-contraptions on those paws o'his. Oh, and dungeoneerin' leathers and a wicked-lookin' knife fer th'rough stuff, which he didn't do any of 'round here, so y'can stop yer soggynoggin' slyways glancin' at that cutlery, understand?"
"His game? Didn't see him gamble any. Oh, yer on 'bout what he's up to in these parts. Dunno, really. Some sort o' mage type dealin' in 'Historical Arcana' as he called it. Seems t've been trained at some academy or whatnot wherever he got started, though it sounded like th'sort o'academy what turns out go-and-do sorts rather than th'tower-dwellin' homebodies what are famous 'round these parts. So mebbe ye could call him an adventurer sort, since that's th'popular word 'round here, aye? Didn't get th'impression that he was in it fer th'fortune an' glory angle, mind, but that's just me."
"Rynoth? Sure, I 'member that one. One o'them wolfish types what came through here recently. Hands off th'silverware! Yer not meltin' it down t'make arrowheads, y'hear? And he's not that sort o'wolfish type besides! No shapeshifting, no prancin' about naked in th'forest while howlin' at th'moon, and definitely no gnawin' on some poor sod's thighbone fer dinner!"
"No, no, I don't know just what t'call him. Heard him say Tierian, but I couldn't make heads nor tails o'whether that's his species or th'place he comes from. Anyway, ye'd have a hard time mistakin' him fer th'thighnibblers unless mebbe yer stumblin' round half drunk in th'dark lookin' fer the privy, because aside from th'walkin' upright wolf what talks bit, there's none o'the feral look - actually, he's better kept, groomin'-wise, than most o'the humans an' elves 'round these parts - and he wears clothes proper-like; even has some sandal-contraptions on those paws o'his. Oh, and dungeoneerin' leathers and a wicked-lookin' knife fer th'rough stuff, which he didn't do any of 'round here, so y'can stop yer soggynoggin' slyways glancin' at that cutlery, understand?"
"His game? Didn't see him gamble any. Oh, yer on 'bout what he's up to in these parts. Dunno, really. Some sort o' mage type dealin' in 'Historical Arcana' as he called it. Seems t've been trained at some academy or whatnot wherever he got started, though it sounded like th'sort o'academy what turns out go-and-do sorts rather than th'tower-dwellin' homebodies what are famous 'round these parts. So mebbe ye could call him an adventurer sort, since that's th'popular word 'round here, aye? Didn't get th'impression that he was in it fer th'fortune an' glory angle, mind, but that's just me."
Editor's Note: Rynoth's paw-sandals are not shown due to asset limitations, but they match the rest of his outfit!
