Harnel sat staring at the roof, leaning back in the chair. Slumping even. The day was going slowly, and there was only so much drawing to be done beforehand. Harnel had already sketched everything visible outside the window, and the wyvern that had attacked them last week, rendered being struck down by Tarn's fireball.
Kail, Tomwise, and Tarn were out doing research on a target, of course, but Harnel couldn't take part. Considering how bad it was here, he'd had to stay cloaked and covered during his entire entrance to the city, so he couldn't join them in gathering information without revealing himself for the half-dragon he was. He understood the necessity, certainly, but it was still annoying to deal with. He'd much rather be doing something in a forge. There's only so much waiting a person can do before their minds start devolving into goo, and he was closely feeling that approach as the lethargy took hold. What would he look like as goo? maybe he'd become a gelatinous cube? He chuckles at the thought of a half-dragon gelatinous cube.
Gods, he'd had enough. He pulled the cloak off the back of the door before draping himself in it, and pulling up a short mask. Tarn had said he was working on something that would let Harnel hide what he was, appearing instead as a full human, but it wasn't ready yet. And so, the cloak was the best option as he left the room of the inn, heading down to the first floor.
It was your average commons room, filled with the weight of dark smoke from the tabac being used. The place was know as the Dark Mug because of the stone mugs that were here; a nearby dwarven settlement carved them straight out of the black granite before selling them, and it was unusual to see such things in a human dominated area. It also kept them from breaking in bar brawls, for the most part, one of which was going on in one of the corners between a dwarf with half his beard burnt off and a grinning young man in a robe.
"I'll have some orcish kragg," Harnel said to the barkeep, who just grunted in response before placing one of the signature mugs onto the table and filling it with this vaguely yellow opaque liquid. There might have even been some hair in it, leading Harnel to conclude that it was made authentic orcish style.
He was only half way through the foul stuff when a woman walked into the inn. She bore herself with grace and poise, and her white skin and hair drew the eye, even halting the beatdown of the robed man in the corner as the dwarf glanced over. Briefly, anyways. She had pink eyes which scanned the room questioningly before settling on Harnel. What did she want with him? She walked up to him, her voluptuous form shifting sensually as she moved; she was obviously moving in just that way to catch eyes.
"Harnel, right?" she said, her voice light and lilting, close to a perfect singing voice, "I'd like to invite you to dinner with me. You can leave a note for your friends."
"I don't know how close I'd call them to being friends," Harnel said, remembering the prank Tarn had pulled on the group that morning. Kail had spent an hour getting the eggs out of her hair, though Harnel had been lucky enough to be spared most of the issue, "but who are you? How do you know my name?"
"My Mentor knows you, and what you are. Divinations are hard to deny, after all." Magic. Harnel didn't like dealing with enemy mages, of course, but this woman seemed nice enough.
"Alright, I'll come. What can I expect?"
"Just bring some nice clothes, and I'll talk to you there," and with that, she moved out the door, leaving Harnel to brood over his kragg.