redravin40

Father Quadrial's eye twitches and looks around the room.
Somebody was spellcasting. The priest didn't have the skills to caste but he could feel magicks like a itch up and down his spine.
Taking another pull on his flagon of sweet mead, the large man scanned the group.
He had learned many years before (he had not always been a man of the clothe) that a Quest was rarely easy even with the most carefully picked group.
This bunch looked more like a patchwork quilt.