MrMoisterOyster

D&D 5e: Plight of Greed

Gale sighed heavily at the sounds of the band assaulting the tower.
"How many damn people were called here?" the elderly cleric grumbled.
If he must work with others, it might as well be with a group that seems to be organized, not like the group of assorted vagabonds marching up the road towards him. Granted, the group with strange colors flying in the breeze seemed a bit rough around the edges, but so was he. Couldn't hurt to join up for a bit and help them. After all, every armed party could use a learned medic, couldn't they? Gale made his way toward the party by the tower, being warry of the goliath stampeding toward him, and called out to the men nearest to him with his best friendly expression.
"Seems like you men got a good group together. Perhaps you could use an experienced healer? Who knows what you may face inside the tower!"
His hope was that the men in the camp would have the good sense to look past his wrinkles and realize how invaluable his knowledge and skills would be to them in their journey.

Dice Roll

Persuasion check: Roll 13 + Persuasion 3 = 16

D&D 5e: Plight of Greed

A wrinkled old man in a simple gray robe plodded along through the forest at the behest of what he could only assume were the gods he'd turned his back on so long ago. Weeks before a voice had whispered to him in his mind telling him to answer it's call. He'd politely told the voice to go away and thought nothing more of it. The next few days it firmly asked him to answer it and he told it to piss off. Then, the voice shouted at him to go to its calling and he'd shouted even louder and told it to piss right the fuck off. It wasn't until the voice became a constant scream like a spoiled child demanding sweet rolls that the surly cleric had thrown up his hands and agreed to go.
That was several days ago. Now, he trudged through along the road toward a mysterious goal which he was sure was a spiteful trick by the gods. He stopped when he heard a noise of someone stomping toward him from around a bend of the main path toward the accursed call that was plaguing his mind. He didn't stop, simply took hold of his mace and continued walking, albeit more slowly and looking over his shoulder. Perhaps whatever the stranger was running toward wouldn't concern him although he had a gut feeling it very much did.

D&D 5e: Plight of Greed

Gale of Dalfjor

A crude, jaded man with a dark past he constantly tries to outrun, and although not the most knowledgeable man he is exceptionally wise and very good at what he does.