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Markul
Standing in a crowd that was busy moving away from the stampede of guards chasing a street thief, Markul stood and watched with the eyes of a male moon elf the hooded lady leave the door of the tavern followed by her new foreign friend and smirked as they were barreled into by the aforementioned thief. With his elven eyes, he noted the passing of something into the hand of the latter lady before he darted off again. The guy was actually good enough to escape without being shot by that elf-lady's magic bolt. He called her an elf. It was the only thing that made since. He had met alot of people in his life, and this one...hooded or not...had to be an elf. He watched with anticipation to see where their path would lead them now.
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