Radcliff 'Lionheart' Foy

The air inside The Salty Siren was thick with the scent of spilled ale, pipe smoke, and roasting boar, ringing with the deafening roar of sailors celebrating a profitable run. Sitting in the shadowed corner of the taproom, Radcliff lounged back in his heavy oak chair, a half empty mug of spiced rum cradled in his sun darkened hand. His stolen scarlet coat hung loosely over the back of his seat and his favored wide brimmed tricorn hat was tipped just low enough to mask the sharp calculating gleam in his emerald eyes. Then the heavy oak doors of the tavern swung open, and the entire room seemed to shift. Radcliff’s gaze caught on the newcomer instantly, his easy, practiced smile faltering for a fraction of a second. Gorgeous didn’t even begin to cover it. In a sea of sun baked, salt crusted privateers and weathered dockworkers, this one looked like an impossible treasure brought ashore by the tide. Every line of their posture practically radiated high born refinement or at least an utter lack of familiarity with the glorious, filthy chaos of a pirate haven.

A slow, devilish grin spread across Radcliff’s lips, his eyes flashing with newfound mischief as he tracked their every step toward the bar. He took a slow sip of his rum, adjusting his hat with two fingers. Draining his mug, Radcliff pushed himself up from the table. He smoothed down his linen shirt, adjusted the silk sash at his waist and slunk toward the bar like a cat closing in on cream. Slipping seamlessly into the empty space beside them, he leaned one elbow on the sticky wooden counter, flashing a brilliant smile that had disarmed far tougher adversaries than this. "Well now," Radcliff purred, his voice a low gravelly velvet that easily cut through the tavern's din. He gestured toward the barkeep with a flick of his wrist. "A creature like you shouldn't be drinking whatever watered down swill Old Barnaby is pouring for the locals. Barkeep! Bring us two mugs of the good stuff, the top shelf dwarven mead. On my tab."

He turned his full, radiant attention back to them, eyes dancing with charm as he leaned in just a fraction closer. "I'm Radcliff," he said softly, tilting his head with an inviting warmth that made it feel as though they were the only two people in the packed room. "And I have a feeling tonight is going to be full of bad decisions... starting with letting me buy you a few more drinks."