Lucan - Half-elf bard

Up in his room in the Inn, Lucan paces. "Do you think they'll come?" he says aloud. He doesn't wait for an answer. "Of course they'll come. They're my friends, right?" He stops, staring across his bed to his bookshelf, piled high with books that he fully means to read when he gets around to it. "Well, I'm not sure about Zyrr. And Eltain was always pretty annoyed with me. But Shep'll come, I'm sure of it. And Pavick. And probably Aramil, if he's not too busy with all those war preparations. They'll come to help their friend, and bring the others." A worried look crosses his face. "What if they don't know I'm their friend? I didn't think of that! I signed my last name, but they don't even know I have a last name. I didn't know until a month ago! They'll think it's from some stranger, and they won't come at all." He starts pacing again. "I could send new letters. That's what I should do. But if they've already decided it's some stranger trying to lure them to Sigil, they won't even read new letters. What can I do, Lena?"

A tiny woman, seated on the bookshelf with her legs swinging beneath her, jumps from the shelf. She drops a few inches before her transparent wings catch her and carry her into the air, to where Lucan still paces. She bobs along beside his head, speaking reassuringly in what sounds like a high-pitched garble to anyone else. Eventually he calms. "You're right," he says. "I shouldn't be so worried. They're smart, and they know where I went. They'll figure it out." He yawns.

"Hopefully they'll be here soon," he says, lying on his bed. He closes his eyes and is soon asleep. Lena waits until he starts to snore before settling down on her pillow. Soon she's asleep too.