Stepping through the city gates Kilraq quickly made his way toward a local tavern he had stayed at one time when he visited the town. He had been pulled along by his mother who had needed to get some things and as always was looking to see if anyone had seen his father's wild elf camp.
Logically it seemed to him a good place to start, find out rumors and of course to take in some ale and meat. Flashing a quick smile and a wink to a local girl on the way there, he got a quirked eyebrow and a laugh. His auburn hair, slightly pointed ears and lithe figure that he inherited proved useful he had learned, either with winning the ladies or distracting people from his meager magics.
What he had most though and the true weapon he was now planning to use was neither his magic, his looks, his familiar or his fists. No, what he needed now was his confidence. He had to convince this tavern keep that he was a decent lad, neither here for trouble or adventure. Just a soul looking for his father, to learn the local goings on of the town and where to get supplies. And if he happened to lower the bill for the inn and his meal, well that would just be a fringe benefit, wouldn't it.
Mostly though, he would have to use this confidence and magnetism to avoid conflict in town. There were still folk in this region who had a hatred for elvish folk, half breed or no. Whether with jealously for their extended length of life, or for some previous conflict with elves (usually a family remember lost to the Drow) many folk still held on hate.
Saying a quick prayer he learned from his mother, he asked Kithairien for guidance and speed. The door of the tavern, Lucinda's Robes, was before him.
