Loric the Tanner
Human Monk/Ranger
AC: 16 HP: 18/18
PP: 13 PIv: 10 PIs: 13
Conditions: --

Now reconvening with those waiting to go visit the guard captain, Loric considers the question. What does he mean to do now? Assuming his actions that night do not return to bite him. Perhaps he would obtain tools to begin tanning leather himself... but not yet. It would draw suspicion.

Thought of the future has become an alien thing in his life of toil, drudgery and poverty. And that thoughtlessness brought with it a kind of peace, the kind of peace his heart both yearns for and recoils from. Tapping his fingers along his staff, he answers hesitantly, "I still must speak with a Varisian about the fortune teller's last rites. After last night it was too late to disturb strangers at their doors... and this morning, I came swift to meet with you." He nods. It is not a far future plan. But it is a next step for him. "Factor Podgan. Could you come with me?" he asks, looking to the gnome. "This money may also help the people in the shanty camp, if properly managed. We could consult some of the respected elders in the community."