Role: Keeper (The Glitgrits Inn and Parlor)
Familiar: Golden Featherfin (Horatio)

- Says she'll let her familiar go when it gives her a good enough wish to grant

The inn has hosted its share of reprobate comedians, but this one is especially grating. Paarl, the dour proprietor of the Glitgrits Inn and Parlor, evaluates her newest guest over the registry. Her gaze is searing; her manner cold and uncharming. Some of the outlying gamblers begin to take notice of the mounting tension between her and the guardian opposite. Who is also her own opposite, in every way.

"Oh darling," she croons, "if you ain't the prettiest picture."

"Then?" Paarl prompts.

"Huh?"

"If I'm not the prettiest picture, then what?"

The guardian seems taken aback by the question, but dismayingly unaffected by Paarl's withering tone. In fact, her expression morphs to one of genuine delight.

"Y'know, it's been a while since I minced words fit to fill a pie," she grins slowly. It's almost a leer and Paarl's eyes narrow. "It was a rhetorical question, darling. If I'd been well and truly askin', I wouldn't go to you first. That's rude! And besides, few drakes got an honest opinion of themselves. Fewer still'd bet it on rhetorics, if you catch my drift."

"With my teeth," Paarl smiles thinly. Is she actually enjoying this? The dusty drifter she'd pegged as a sweet-talking swindler had some wits about her. She might not like the cut of her jib, but she couldn't deny its edge. "Your name?"

The drifter beams. It's revolting.

"For the registry," Paarl clarifies. Not a flicker.

"It's Riffith," says the drifter, graciously accepting the pen to sign her name next to its entry.