The Art of Chaos-Prolouge

Aramil Bloodoak entered the crowded inn. The Fat Purse. Please. He managed to navigate his way to a small table in the back. The Table was crowded, relative to its size. The Center of attention appeared to be a slim black Creature. His eyes told the tale of unknowable power. Directly in front of him sat a cheery little person. Bloodoak smiled. Halflings. How he loved the little people. This particular halfling was called Lidda, a very famous thief. Of course, fame was not something many thieves wanted. Then again, Lidda was not your everyday rouge. To the left of Lidda stood an absurdly large cross-between a toad and a human. His three arms clutched One-and-a-half-handed swords. Obviously a bodyguard. Aramil approached the table. Lidda immediately noticed him and greeted him warmly. The black creature nodded. The equivalent of a gift of gold from this particular individual. The three armed freak grinned and waved. Aramil smiled again. It was good to be back.