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Yevaud
Yevaud nodded suitably chastised for his prior actions. Whatever had taken hold of his mind had passed. His physical wounds were on the mend, though there would always be battle scars, the mental ones and the people he'd had to leave behind or watched die. An elf with a wolf would likely not raise too many questions, as most of the people in this burg would see race first and then only later wonder about profession. Yevaud nodded silently, brooding and surveying for any signs of danger, from within and outside the town, the last thing he wanted was to be run out of town by a mob of yokels, or worse. His blade hung easily on his side, a simple coil of string tied across it to prevent it being drawn easily, a custom he'd heard many human communities advocated to prevent needless bloodshed, a curiosity that humans felt it necessary, but he had prepared it just in case. A number of spells were in mind in case the situation warranted it, far more dangerous he thought than a sharpened steel edge.
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