Pathfinder Campaign: Part 1

This is a crosspost from An Ominous Shadow.

Half-elf male, aged roughly 25 human years. 6'3". Windswept, short grey hair, eyes as blue as the azure skies.

K'arish boldly strolled into the Cypher Lodge. His wallet was feeling much heavier that evening, thanks to some careful calculations of knowing when to hold 'em and fold 'em in the Free-Coin district's gambling halls. He had a lot of thinking to do, and none of it could be done in that dingy inn. At least, not for the next few days. Vancaskerkin was rather hospitable in giving the stormborn sorcerer room and board for a decent rate, but that hospitality also extended to the half-orc that shared a neighboring room with a snore as loud as the roars of his ancestors.

The true motivation of K'arish Sparkheart, at least at the moment, was getting into the good graces of the Order of Cyphers. It was fairly obvious to anyone with any magical inclincation that the only people who might know anything behind the blot shadowing Riddleport was the Order itself. If his magical talents didn't do the trick, perhaps his good looks and sharp wit would.

After a few days in relative comfort, he'd head back to the Gold Goblin to attend Vancaskerkin's gambling tournament to play the odds once more. It was bound to attract all sorts, and if his calculations were correct, there was a high probability someone would know something about magic; especially what loomed overhead. They'd probably know a thing or two about the rumors that all those people at the gambling tables wouldn't shut up about.

K'arish plopped 20 gold pieces down at the front desk. "A room, please. And I hope it's relatively quiet... I would hope so, given the amount of reading I'm seeing around here."

The clerk glanced away from her newspaper long enough to give a once over to the coins and their owner.
"We're full."

A 5-gold piece klinked onto the counter, and took its time spinning from gravity... quite a few seconds longer than the clerk was both expecting and willing to put up with. It was stopped and flattened by the clerk's finger, who stared at K'arish with mild disdain. She then handed him a key.

"The magic wasn't necessary. Just keep it quiet. Fourth door on the second floor."

K'arish gingerly took the key, motioned his fingers to 'zip' his lips while winking at the clerk (a gesture lost on the clerk, who was already back to her newspaper) and followed the directions to his room. Quiet. Quiet, he could definitely handle for now.