Tesa: Level 1 Gyatt Druid

She's running from something, how long will you follow? You see Tesa in the small bar on the edge of town, seeming looking at any abled bodied adventurer that comes into view. She looks good, but also looks desperate as she moves from table to table assesing the skills of those looking to join her in whatever capacity she's needing. She's definately a Druid, but just barley. Maybe just out of school, and definately in need of help if she plans on making it very far from this place. Will you join her party? Will you see through her lies and find out her secret? Make a Level One persona of any class to fit the story. Ask others in the bar to join you if you require more than two in the party. Good Luck!

Tesa: Level 1 Gyatt Druid

She's running from something, how long will you follow? You see Tesa in the small bar on the edge of town, seeming looking at any abled bodied adventurer that comes into view. She looks good, but also looks desperate as she moves from table to table assesing the skills of those looking to join her in whatever capacity she's needing. She's definately a Druid, but just barley. Maybe just out of school, and definately in need of help if she plans on making it very far from this place. Will you join her party? Will you see through her lies and find out her secret? Make a Level One persona of any class to fit the story. Ask others in the bar to join you if you require more than two in the party. Good Luck!

The tavern creaks with life—boots stomping across warped wood, tankards slamming down in laughter, and the low thrum of a lute being played too close to a hangover. Shadows flicker from the hearthfire, and smoke coils near the rafters like lazy spirits.

She’s already there. Watching.

Tesa Lightbow leans against a tall-backed chair in the far corner, lit just enough to catch the sharp contrast of her white-streaked bangs against her raven-black hair. She wears a one-piece of deep forest green—long sleeves and a plunging neckline that dips low between her breasts, edged in soft leather trim. The bottom half hugs her hips in tight shorts that leave little to the imagination, framing a backside that’s drawn more than one glance tonight—and she knows it. A wide, worn belt cinches her narrow waist, lined with small pouches full of herbs, stones, and vials. A short sword rests on her hip, though it’s clear she prefers charm to steel—until she doesn’t.

Her eyes, sharp and bright green, flick to the door the moment you enter.

She watches you for just a second too long, then offers the faintest smirk—half challenge, half invitation. With a slow, deliberate shift, she rises from her chair, one hand resting on the pommel of her sword, the other adjusting the belt at her waist.

🌿 “There you are,” she says smoothly, like she’d been expecting you all along.

She nods toward the open seat at her table.

🌿 “Name’s Tesa. Druid by nature, survivalist by necessity. I’ve got no time for town gossip or tavern rats. I’m headed out—into monster territory. The roads are cursed, the woods are worse, and somewhere out there is enough gold to change everything.”

Her tone lowers, smooth and just a little sly.

🌿 “I’m clever, I know the land, and I’ll pull my weight... but I need someone who hits hard and doesn’t ask too many questions. You look the part. What do you say? You help me get out of here—alive—and we both get rich.”

She turns slightly as she waits for your answer—just enough to show off her best angle.

🌿 “Or I can wait for someone dumber.”