[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/CkBN9Kp.png[/img]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/4mZnPLt.gif[/img]
[color=C2F2B8]
[color=gold][b]Race:[/b][/color] Gnome  
[color=gold][b]Class:[/b][/color] Socialite  
[color=gold][b]interaction:[/b][/color] Watching [@FunnyGuy] Wendel
[color=gold][b]Location:[/b][/color] Airship
[color=gold][b]Attire:[/b][/color] See picture above
[color=gold][b]Gold Balance:[/b][/color] 30
[color=gold][b]Injuries:[/b][/color] None
[color=gold][b]Equipment:[/b][/color]  
[color=gold]⋆[/color] Walking Stick Shillelagh  
[color=gold]⋆[/color] Small Trinkets & Stolen Baubles  
[color=gold]⋆[/color] A Collection of Miniature Cheese Wheels  
[color=gold]⋆[/color] Pocket Mirror  
[color=gold]⋆[/color] Ornate Deck of Cards (for tricks & misdirection)  
[color=gold]⋆[/color] Small Disguise Kit 
[color=gold]⋆[/color] Critter
[color=gold]⋆[/color] Bag [/color][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/R3zAvNa.png[/img][/center]

[color=C2F2B8]


The Stormrider soared like a whisper over a sea of clouds, its elemental ring casting warm orange light over the Bar Deck as evening approached. The scent of alchemical spices and enchanted citrus mingled with laughter and drifting harp music, lulling passengers into comfort.


Which made it the perfect time for espionage.


Bobi the Believable—legendary socialite, accidental thief, and 1st Ranger of the B.E.A.R.D.—stood motionless near a glowing crystal panel. One hand rested lightly on his polished shillelagh. His other scratched absently at his belly button, a nervous habit made only stranger by the tiny slurp sound from beneath his patchwork coat.


[color=gold]“Easy now, Critter,”[/color] he muttered without moving his lips. [color=gold]“Papa’s working.”[/color]


His glowing green eyes flicked toward a nearby table where a merchant had left a half-eaten plate of Karrnathi Ironplate. Cheese. Glorious, glistening cheese.


He licked his lips.


 [color=gold]“No. No. Focus. You promised B.E.A.R.D. you wouldn’t do this again.”[/color]


Critter let out a tiny burp and promptly vanished back into Bobi’s coat, leaving only the faint scent of brimstone and breadcrumbs. Bobi sighed and slowly, gracefully, stepped forward—his movement so fluid it could’ve been a trick of the light.


A nobleman in flowing robes turned toward him briefly—then frowned, confused.


“Was that…?” he murmured, blinking.


But Bobi was already in full Gnome Mode—standing beside a decorative pillar, arms behind his back, gaze serene, looking like a particularly eccentric lawn ornament. The man shook his head and returned to his drink.


Bobi whispered to himself as he carefully plucked a loose coin purse from beneath a bench.


[color=gold]“Nothing personal, darling. It’s for the network. Khorvaire’s full of secrets, and secrets need seed money.”[/color]


A tourist stumbled by, bumping into the table and knocking over a glittering goblet. Bobi gasped softly and caught it mid-air with one hand, placing it upright and bowing slightly.


[color=gold]“Your chalice, madam,”[/color] he said with a flourish.


“Oh! Thank you, kind sir—how courteous!” she beamed.


Bobi leaned in conspiratorially, voice low and silken.


[color=gold]“Courtesy is just mischief in a velvet glove.”[/color]


She laughed nervously. He bowed again, eyes twinkling.


Then, without another word, he melted back into the crowd, pocketing a lace handkerchief that smelled faintly of lavender.


Mission: progressing.


And somewhere below deck, behind locked hatches and security runes, lay the cargo that had drawn the attention of every major house in Khorvaire.


[color=gold]“Secrets are like cheese,”[/color] Bobi whispered to himself as he nibbled a stolen sliver, [color=gold]“Best when aged, rarely shared, and always worth stealing.”[/color]


He turned—


And froze.


Across the deck, leaning against the railing with arms folded and eyes too alert for a tourist, stood a dwarf.


White hair. Braided beard. Heavy boots. A gaze like a whetstone scraping against steel.


Bobi narrowed his eyes. His stomach twisted. Critter chittered from inside his coat—then fell eerily silent.


The gnome ducked behind a barrel of glowing punch and peeked out with all the caution of a cheese addict in a dairy trap.


[color=gold]“Oh no no no no,”[/color] he whispered. [color=gold]“Absolutely not. They let a dwarf on board? Who’s in charge of screening passengers—blind goblins?”[/color]


He watched the dwarf closely. The man didn’t smile. Didn’t laugh. Didn’t even sip anything. He was staring toward the Cargo Hold with the patience of a predator.


Bobi hissed.


[color=gold]“I bet he’s cursed. That’s a curse-beard if I’ve ever seen one. Probably brought bad luck with him. Or mushrooms. Probably mushroom curses.”[/color]


[b]He rubbed his belly button, fidgeting.[/b]


[color=gold]“I knew the wind smelled off today. You can’t trust a dwarf. That’s just basic fieldcraft.”[/color]


He muttered under his breath as he backed into the shadows, cheeks puffed in offense and arms crossed tight.


[color=gold]“Unbelievable. Truly unbelievable. We’re above the clouds, and they let one of them up here. Mark my words, Critter.”[/color] He pointed a dramatic finger from the shadows.


[color=gold]“That dwarf is up to something. And Bobi the Believable is going to find out what.”[/color]
[/color]