Petrillia Ilyanov

Petrillia made an clumsy curtsey to Lord Bost and moved quickly to the innkeeper's side. "Darya, I'm SO sorry. I went looking for the herbs like you said, but there were these little dogmen," she paused long enough to point to Creeper/Abdok before continuing. "They tied me up and I thought they were going to kill me-"

"Ease yourself, child," Darya responded with a wrinkly smile. Petrillia frowned slightly at being called a child, but continued to listen to the voice she thought she would never miss. "I read the omens and I knew it wasn't your time. I spent the hours imagining the stories you were living." Darya sighed and added with a wink, "I suppose you're not too old (like me) to be off having adventures!"

Petrillia started speaking, "But it wasn't really like that-"

"Adventures never are, child," Darya interrupted. "They never are."

Darya, ignoring yet another frown on Petrillia's face, turned her attention to Stefan. "Now here's a fine young man that'll warm the cockles of any young girl's heart! I'm just an old herb pusher," Petrillia rolls her eyes at this comment, "and not a full time healer. Come on over, my boy, and give a lady a hand with this poor soul."

Petrillia stepped back from Darya and thought to herself, Yes. Former employer. But in spite of her superstitious ways, she does have some value as a mentor. It still pays to be polite and on her good side. You never know when the wheat grain will be found in the chaff.