Othniel Moto-Moyo and Jasiri
Southport Street/The Seventh Rose
Othniel's eyes glinted at the thought of magical items. He tended not to use weapons - except for, of course, his trusty staff - but magical items could always be broken down, and their enchantments stored in other objects or turned to different uses. Thanking the hat seller, Othniel walked away. He had been to the Seventh Rose before, rather often; it had good food and excellent ale. Walking with an easy but deliberate gait, Othniel Moto-Moyo set off toward the tavern.
"Looking for magic, eh big man?" Jasiri asked, a grin on his beaked face. Most of the time Jasiri was smiling. It made Othniel a bit nervous occasionally, but he knew from experience that the Braviary was entirely harmless. The lion-man replied with an easy smile on his dark face.
"Always, Flameclaws," said Othniel in a formal rumble, using the title he had given the bird on their first meeting. His look suddenly grew misty and distant; he tightened his grip on the staff in his great hand. "Always."
The Seventh Rose was quite a busy place, filled with people clamoring for ale and food. Othniel wrinkled his nose at the noise, which seemed to make Jasiri just as uncomfortable and fidgety. "You do what you need to do," said the bird, "and I'll find us some seats. Just make it quick - please." Saying this, he fluttered off of Othniel's shoulder and walked over to an empty space near a man and Jellicent. Othniel scanned the crowd, looking for someone who seemed to be selling arcane goods.
However, he saw nothing - except for a tavern that suddenly went as quiet as the grave. All eyes turned toward a spot near the center of the tavern. Othniel had a hard time seeing, but he thought he could pick out a girl with a luminous... hand? Othniel frowned, leaning forward, trying to see why this girl was using magic. He readied himself to reach for his staff.
Perception Check on the patrons.