The Drunken Giant, an aptly named tavern.  It claimed to have every form of alcohol available in Vaasa, but how much of that was truth is anyone's guess.  They had a wider selection than the other taverns, that much was certain, but they did not have the more exotic drinks.  Most of the dwarven meads and ales were available for sale, and even some of the human spirits, but some of the more noteworthy drinks, including the infamous Rashemi Firewine and all of the elven wines [even the famed Elverquisst], were missing.

But overall, it was not a bad tavern to stop by.  It had a small selection of meals, from stew to actual steak, and the dwarves were sure to know what they were doing and they ensured that the meat was fully natural, with no magic in their blood.

For the moment, the tavern was a bit full, but there were still a few empty tables and seats.  They seemed to almost welcome the weary adventurers to them, asking them to take a load off their feet and fill their stomachs with food and ale.  But it could be nothing more than their weary minds playing tricks on them.

But the group had dwindled down to just a few.  The two dwarven guides had returned home to be with their families, just for a night, and the others had left.  Now only three remained.  Mundin, Thamol, and Quansil remained of the original group, with the newer dwarven priest Depiron determined to find his kin.

OOC: Feel free to come on in and order a meal or drink, talk among yourself, etc.  I'll be back tomorrow to add a bit more information and stuff to react to.

Thamol is not at home in inn.  He would prefer to be in the barn where he left his horse and ruff.  As usual he had problems with locals excepting the wolf is friendly.  Thamol has decided to join other two as this all that left of group.  He not said anything as not sure what to day in this place.  He also does not seem interested in drinks but ask for water.

The young dwarf maiden giggles for some reason as the elf orders water, nothing more, and returns a few minutes later with a glass of the cold liquid.  She goes off to serve more of the patrons of the tavern, and had to stand above one of the more unruly humans, who goes on and on about the dirty scum that had stolen his crops.  For the moment, there was a light inkling of laughter as the drunk attempted to order one more drink from the dwarf maid.  As she left to fill her orders, the human made a mistake that dropped the humorous air about his fictitious crops as he mumbled the words, "Damn dwarves, never get it right.  I bet their women can't even tell where the bed is, can they?  Am I right?  Of course I am."  The laughter and general good humor of the tavern dropped at that remark.  A small majority of the patrons - and all of the help - were dwarves.  "Of course, first you'd have to find some of their women, right?  Of course you do."  For the moment, his laughter was alone.  There was not another sound.  Probably because no one could actually believe he said what he did, but it probably wouldn't last long before some people got extremely angry.

OOC: Any and all PCs can assume they heard the drunk, whether they were outside or (most likely) inside.

Slowly, a caravan came to a halt before the Drunken Giant, and two figures in the front wagon dismounted before the tavern.

"Ah'm sorry lad, but this is as fah' as I'll be go'in," spoke one, who was a dwarf.

The other, probably a human or half-elf given the height, but dressed in volumes robes with the hood drawn up against the cold, replied, "Master Dwarf, please- you've been more than charitable in this matter. I wouldn't ask you for more. I'm sure I can make my way from here."

The dwarf, in turn, looked thoughtful, and perhaps a bit distressed. "Aye... Well, in thah' case, I'll be come'in back in ere' spring, if you need a ride. I do'n suppose I can convince ye- ?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Aye. Well, best o' luck to you. You might yet need it."

"Doubtless." The robed figure bowed, a motion which the dwarf was awkward in returning, and the two parted the dwarf to his caravan, the figure to the warmth of the tavern.

Inside, the candle-light further illuminates the person, whose robes are black and trimmed in gold in the design of gear-teeth. Now protected from the elements, the hood is withdrawn, to reveal the head of a human man, with the features and complexion of a Mulan, including dark blue eyes and long black hair, done into a plait. There are a few gold rings in his ears, but he is otherwise undecorated.

First he approaches a server. "Some hot vegetable soup, and if you have it, a warm drink. Inform the proprietor that I need lodgings for the night." His business concluded, he sat himself across from Thamol.

"Do forgive the intrusion," said the Mulan fellow with a reassuring smile, "But you looked like you could use the company. I know I could. Ah, but where are my manners? My name is Tokei Kikei, Kikei if you will."

He was slightly distracted though, buy the off-colour jokes of one of his fellow patrons. "Hmmm... Excuse me one moment- I think this needs to be taken care of before it's blown out of proportion."

He removed himself from his seat, and approached the drunken joker. "Sir?" he addressed the man, "Sir, you look a little ill. Do you feel fine?"
This message was last edited by the player at 12:11, Fri 03 Nov 2006.

The dwarf maid took down the human's order with a smile as she moved on, distracted only by the drunk and then by his crude joking.  She was on her way back to the kitchen, her face unreadable, as Kikei tried to right some of the situation.  Unfortunately, the drunk seemed somewhat unwilling.  But at least it was Kikei who had done something first instead of one of the dwarves.  As if in one mind, the rest of the tavern remained silent, watching to see the effect.

"I'm fine, son.  Well, as fine as I'm expected to be while I'm surrounded by poor service.  But what else can I expect from no-good, rotten shrimp?  I mean, back west I'd be in here an hour or so before I'd pass out.  I've been drinking for the past three, and nothing's happened.  And I thought the dwarves liked it strong."  The drunk, surprisingly, did not slur his words as much as one might have thought.  And most of his sentences were coherent, if not as kind as they could have been.  But there was just enough to tell him for a drunk.  The dwarves kept their eyes on the man, ready to step in if he say too much more.

Thamol really not at home in the inn.  The talk does not make him feel any better.    He also seems to be getting nowhere with search of great ice tree.  He decides to ask question of drunk.  Many be he got some information that helpful.
"So what bring you from the west to this beautiful land."
As usual Thamol does not get plot that this hard deadly land to most creature.

Kikei was thankful for Thamol's intrusion. Banter would keep the imbibed patron occupied. "Well... I still worry. If you will induldge a young practioner in allowing me to perform a few simple, non-intrusive examinations, it would put me more at ease. You may even feel free to chat while I work." He rolled up his sleeves slightly, giving himself the airs of some proffesional person making preperaions for a routine task.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:34, Fri 03 Nov 2006.

While Mundin wasn't deep in his cups, he did have a good couple of mugs of Dwarven Mead, giving him a nice buzz, but not leaving him drunk.  Before starting on a third one, the comment from the insolent drunk caught his ears.  He raised an eyebrow as the entire establishment went silent, as eyes peered with hostility at the drunken patron.  Insults to service of an inn were one thing, insults to dwarves were something altogether different.

Still garbed in his gleaming spiked armor of plate, he took one look at Depiron, then rose and walked deliberately over to the drunken patron, as a small smile came to Mundin's expression, his shield and maul attached to the backside of the armor, making the dwarf seem much taller than he actually was.  "Ye be having a problem with good dwarven mead, me good man?"

The tavern made Depiron's heart heavy. It heaved hard within his heart as he longed for the ease of his friend's company. He knew, they would have defused this situtation by ordering more mead and then going at the offender in a group, strong and show them how dwarves felt about discrimination. The dwarven way.

He had been holding on to his first mug of meat for the better part of the day, not feeling like drinking helped him much. Moradin would not want to see him drunk either.

In any case, something needed to be done and Depiron didn't feel like starting a bar fight. So he rose as well, touched Mundin's shoulder and stepped forwards.

"Sir, we have in interest in your short-minded babbling or your offence. We are a jolly people and if you can't behave, then take you things and leave."

The last word seemed to hold some special gravity and the air seemed to hold special strength in it.

Quansil goes to the bar and orders some elven wine.  Hearing they have none he asks what type of human swill they have that might be palapable.  Hearing of nothing suitable he orders water and something to eat knowing that he will have to stomach it in order to keep his strength up.  Hearing the drunkard make the comment Quansil sits back and thinks to himself, This human has uncoomon courage to speak his mind front of these short tempered dwarves.  Seeing the reactions of the dwarves he travels with confirm his opinion of the dwarven condition he smiles to himself secure in his superior intellect.
Rolled a 13 for Spellcraft for Depiron's spell.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:58, Sat 04 Nov 2006.

"What brings me to the west.  Oh, you mean from the west, not much,  Just adventure, I guess.  Or moving around, I heard they had a bit more girls comin' up here for some reason or t'other."  The drunk stopped as the human attempted to calm him down.  "I don't really care if these are 'non-intrusive' or not, I'm not going to have you poking around my body.  Nope, and no thanks."

The man turned as Mundin moved over, trying to make himself as tall as possible while, at the same time, either shutting him up or forcing him to leave.  But the man was either too drunk to care or didn't care in the first place.  "All I'm sayin' is that if I were back west, I would've been sleepin' it all of in my bed by now.  Not still down here having to look at your ugly mug."

And then the other dwarf just had to come up to him and speak again.  Why did it have to happen to him?  All he really wanted was to get drunk enough to pass out and forget everything, but dwarves and people kept coming up to him.  "Like I told your little friend here, I'm just here to get drunk.  It's not my fault that your 'fine dwarven mead' doesn't work.  Now, I would appreciate it if all of you just get out of my face and leave me to my drinking."  The almost continuous drinking had another effect, as well.  The drunk lifted the mug to his face once more only to find it empty.  "Wench!  I need more of this scum you like to serve your customers.  And make sure it's stronger!"  The other dwarves, and even some of the human, in the tavern cradled their weapons on their lap, ready to offer assistance or take the matter in their own hands.  For the moment, though, they were content enough to see what these two dwarves, and possibly their companions, would do.

As the doors swing open, those interested enough to see a newcomer (with the starting of what may be an impending fight) see a small figure and dog, easily as large as the halfling, enter the bar.

The silence is broken, not by his heavy step or mean look, (for he had neither) but intead the ringing of bells which seemed to cover his clothing.
"At last! Civilisation and drink! Food and frien... it's a bit quiet?" the diminutive figure says to the dog.
Raaoof comes the reply.
"Yes does seem odd. Anyways, there's the bar" he says approaching and climbing up the nearest stool to be able to see above the bar.

"I'll have two beers and..."
Arooooow interjects the dog.
"Huh? What then, Whiskey?"
Raggaaa the dog chimes.
"One beer and a whiskey"
Rwooff the dog murmurs.
"Alright, make the whiskey a double, it's been a long cold walk, and two errm meals, whatever you recommed." The halfling says, trying to crack a smile but you can tell he seems tired and glad to be in the warm.

His eyes scan the bar and he once more takes in the tension all about.
"Errm, sorry? Please continue whatever you were doing?" he tries to add, feeling very uncomfortable in a quiet tavern. Except for the jingling bells as she shifts on the stool.

Kikei backed away from the drunkard, particularly after the two dwarves approach and undo the drunkards mood. ~So much for the best laid plans of mice and men...~ he mused, as he proceeded back to the table he had origionally seated himself at. He sat back now, observing from what he felt was a safe distance. "If only I had prepared my spells for the day, I could have solved this whole mess with a Charm," he muttered.

Of course, he could not help but note the bard(?) in leather and bells. "What a queer looking fellow," he mused, now somewhat distracted by the halfling.

Seeing another of the lesser races enter Quansil sits with his back to the wall and eats and drinks his order with as much dignity as the poor excuse for an establishment can offer.  After he finishes he heads to the stables to check on his warhorse before turning in for the evening.

Once settled for the night Quansil thinks to himself, At least the ill prepared serving boy and the annoying human ranger are no longer travelling with us.  With the exception of the so called druid we may even have some military order and disicpline in our ranks.

He took a look at his fellow dwarf. And hoped he'd see some sort of agreement there, as he called out: "Dear Master," he called, hoping to get the tavern owner's attention, "How much does the man owe you?" He waited for a reply. When he was given it, he said to the drunkard, in a very firm tone, "Pay. You are not welcome here anymore." They were quite convincing indeed. "And then leave in peace. For you will soon be disrupted in yours in a very painful way." If Moradin's power would not help, maybe the power of reasoning would. And Depiron was ready to grab the man by the arm and drag him out of here if need be.

((Depiron Holyquartz rolled 23 using 1d20+7. diplomacy. ))

There was a halfling at the door who was talking to his dog and Depiron would've laughed and bought him a meal yesterday. Today, he found the cheerfulness testy, at best. He didn't feel like being cheerful or cheered up and he hoped the halfling wouldn't try to do so because he was afraid he'd lose him temper.

Bigby watches as Penville turns to collect the drinks. His head cocked and it almost looked like he was assessing the situation. But as the whiskey arrives, he is happy to lap it up, one eye on the trouble brewing.

Another trade caravan arrived in the city and stopped near to the tavern. A blonde human woman could be seen out in the cold speaking with a man for a short time but their words were lost in the wind and ruckus of the noise from the Drunken Giant. The two figures embraced in the dark and then waved at each other. The male rejoined the caravan which lumbered away. The female walked toward the warmth of the inn with a purposeful stride.

Tarmes Werthor came in and went straight toward the bar. Several humans and even a couple dwarves turned to stare as she walked by. Her blonde tresses framed the face of an angel, or perhaps a seductress, but she walked like she was pulling a plow. Tarmes was dressed in winter clothes with a heavy coat but removed it as she waved to earn the barkeep's attention. Under the coat the young woman was wearing a brick red shirt and a leather vest. It was a man shirt from the style and had a short collar. The shirt was pulled tight around her chest and had it been open at the neck at all Tarmes would have displayed a generous amount of cleavage. Those in the tavern who managed to look beyond her face and other features would have noted the studded leathers she wore and butts of several daggers at her hips and one in her boot.

When the bartender gave her his attention she rewarded him with an easy smile and a silver coin. "Gimme the strongest ale or mead you have." The girl sniffed the air and the smell of food which was, at the moment, stronger than the smell of spilt beer and body odor. "And somethin to eat. What's good here?" It was at that point the Tarmes noticed the relative silence. She looked around to see what was keeping everyone quiet.

Mundin didn't pay heed to the newcomers, but paid more attention to the insolent drunk.  His look became a bit more flinty, as he removed his heavy mace and his shield, placing the ball of the mace on the floor gingerly, as not to damage it.  He then speaks in a quiet voice, but as he continues, more steel is added until it turns from a gentle rebuke, to a deadly, shuouting threat.

"Me good sir, I recommend ye do as me companion says, with all due haste.  Your insults to our kind will only lead to violence.  We dwarves may nae be a perfect people, but we be a proud one, and I can say that our tempers be wearing very thin.  This be your final warning.  Pay and get out!"

Seeing the lass enter, Bigby stands up, nudging Penvilles stool.
"Raawooo"
Penville however is staring over the bar (just) and trying to see when the food is going to be ready. Waves his hand down as if to swat away a pesky fly.

"RAA WOOOO" Bigby pushes again. This time as the lady is next to him at the bar.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:03, Mon 06 Nov 2006.

Penville looks down annoyed, "What? What is iiiiiiiit" he finishes as the last push and his raised head connecting with the beauty (who had appeared next to him) means his body has nought to go but down.

Bigby calmly steps out the way.

Face down, Penville picks himself up.  "Nice dagger" he says, brushing himself off and idly trying to kick Bigby. Then turns to the sound of the threat behind him. "Seems the men have been trying to pick a fight with the dwarves, and just found one" he whispers to the newcomer. Then stands to watch what is about to unfold.

Tarmes’ laugh came easy as she stared down at the curious looking halfling. She reached down and grabbed Penville’s wrist to help pull him up from the floor. ”Well thanks for noticing. Nice...bells.” She chuckled a little more and then turned her attention to the scene that was about to be a fight. ”Well well...this outta be entertaining.” The blonde whispered back to Penville and turns to lean her back against the bar and watch the proceedings. Out of habit her hands deftly touched the handles of each five daggers, verifying they were all in their correct place and easy to reach. She would wait for her drink before doing anything else.

The bartender - another dwarf of course - seemed to be slightly distracted - and with good reason - as the small halfling entered the tavern with his dog.  Although this did not interfer with a customer as months, if not years, of experience came to his aid as he silently filled the little halfling's order, giving him a beer and whiskey as asked for.  And it was only a few seconds later that whatever would be his meal was cooking.  But his eyes were narrowed as he watched the drunk human continue to make enemies of most of his customers and help.

As Depiron asked of the man's debt to the tavern, the bartender counted a few moments before replying with a "I'd say ten gold, give or take.  Been here for the better part of the ride, just a-drinkin' most of the time."  Of course, the drunk had a few words to say about that, first.  "You rotten liar, I haven't been drinkin' the entire time.  I ate a bit, and slept some.  And there's no way in hell that I owe you more than a few silver.  I can't imagine this filth bein' worth more than a copper or two a glass."  The dwarf behind the bar was ready to answer, his anger driving his face even more red - if it were possible - but Depiron continued.  The human almost laughed in his stupor before he realized, perhaps for the first time, the gravity of the dwarf's tone and manner; he wasn't quite drunk enough to start a fight he couldn't win.  Well, perhaps he was, but the dwarves around him had weapons.  He wasn't that drunk.  "Fine, you dwarf.  I'll leave.  And here's your coin, too.  Take it.  I'm glad to be rid of you dwarves, anyway.  Too many, too many in this world."  He shoved a few coins into Depiron's chest, letting them either fall or have the dwarf catch them, as he stood and began to leave.  The coins had a noticably silver shine to them instead of the gold he owed.

And as the human began to stumble out toward the door, with a defiant and angry look on his face, the dwarf behind the counter began to fill the orders out again.  He gave a strong-smelling mug to the young woman who had entered and waited for a few seconds more, watching the drunk leave, before he wordlessly pointed to the menu above in answer to meals.

And there was a menu, written in chalk, that had the prices and relative meals - well, it said steak and stew but didn't exactly say what was in them.

Menu

Food                                    Drink

Steak: 5 silver                         Water: 6 copper
Stew: 3 silver                          Ale:   1 silver
Greens: 8 silver                        Wine:  3 silver
                                        Mead:  2 silver
                                        Specialty: 5 silver

_{Note: If anyone is able to successfully drink five glasses of the special, their entire meal is free of charge.  Continue at your own risk.}

Lexis finishes her meal quietly at the back of the tavern. She pushes the bowl away with a satisfied sigh and watches the events unfold as the drunk is dealt with and the other characters arrive. As things begin to settle down, Lexis produces a coin from under her cloak and flips it in the air. The coin lands with a soft ringing on the table and Lexis observes it for a moment. "Fortune favors the bold." She mutters as she scoops up the coin and replaces it under her cloak.

Rising from the table, Lexis throws back the hood of her cloak and approaches the dwarves with a smile. "Excellent diffusion of a possibly messy situation, master dwarves. I am Lexis. May I buy you a drink?"

Mundin shakes his head at the departure at the drunk, but is inwardly pleased that no blood was shed tonight.  There was enough blood shed for awhile, especially after the recent events.  He idly looks at the piece of fur-lined cloak that is tied around his spiked wrist, and reminds himself what he is here for, or more precisely for whom.

"Bloody drunk, ruining tha mood of tha eve."

He then listens to the offer of the human woman who seemed strange that he was only somewhat taller than him, a hair less than a foot taller than he, he smiled at the offer, though the scent of the drunk was still fresh here.  "I appreciate the offer, lass, it be real kind.  I can nae speak for me friend here, but I fear tha scent of that drunk has taken some of tha spice from tha mead this eve.  I be finishing me mug that be left, but that be it, no offense be meant.  Though I be glad to join you for the drink I be having left."

The dwarf then smiles and flips a shiny coin to the bartender.

Moradin asked many a thing of a faithful believer, but picking up the coins off the floor was not a harsh test. Depiron was sure it wasn't enough even though he didn't count the coins. He brought them to the bartender. "I would chip in the rest for peace's sake, but I am afraid I have nothing I can give you," he said, sounding genuinely distraught. The enemy had taken everything they could and they certainly would not hesitate to take his gold and other coin.

Waiting for the bartender to reply, Depiron was not about when the elf spoke to the others and therefore missed the offer of the drink. His sudden poverty was already, in itself, a sorrowful thing but he strongly believed that Moradin himself had a plan.

As Penville started the task of climbing atop the stool (on his own, waving away any friendly hands of help from Tarmes) he was near the summit when...



The coin was well aimed and had been heading stright for the barkeep, until the halfling had unnoticably, entered it's path. It hits the mark on the back of his head, lurching him forward (for being offbalance at the time) to land into his drink, pull it over and send them both to the ground at a much faster rate than he'sd been climbing.

"Oqq, goddamit, why they gotta make these stools so tall? Or the bar for that matter. Why did I say Oqq when I meant Oqq? Oqq? Ohh! Ahh that's better." He rubs his head and then sees the coin. "Oh maybe it's not all bad luck after all?"

"We'll have two steaks please, or do you want the stew?"
"Raaggawulf"
"Yup, two steaks please, oh and I best get another mead. Seems Bigby is taking that one" As the dog is more than happy to lap up the spilt drink. And again climbs the seat, this time somewhat easier.

Noticing that the coin hit the head of the silly little halfling on the way to the bartender, he started to growl slightly, but seeing the silly spectacle reminded him of another yet someone else, he glanced at the fur lined piece of cloth around his wrist, he shook his head as his thoughts ran wild.  'Someone else to remind me of you, little one, someone else, I guess I can take some joy in that, small wonders, Moradin knows.'

He let out a small grunt of a laugh as he remarked on the spectacle.  "I suppose I should let it be, for now.  At least the bartender knows who paid for the meal, and that should cover it, and my drinks and meal this eve."

An enthusiastic laugh erupted from Tarmes at the sight of the halfling’s antics. She had been in about to ask about the Specialty when Penville fell to the floor. She clapped for him and laughed some more. ”That was great! Can you do that again? If I stand over there and throw a silver at you will you fall off your stool again?” She is genuinely entertained and obviously thinks Penville did that on purpose.

While eating his meal of greens Quansil notices the entrance of the newcomers and is not amused.  Thinking to himself, The antics of the little one are a poor substitute for true talent of an elven entertainer.  Then again what can one expect from cultures of the lesser races.

Lexis nods to Mundin. "Sorry to catch you at the end of your evening. My reason for speaking with you was not all pleasure though. You have the look of a seasoned adventurer in that armor. I, myself, am looking for employment, if you have need of a scout or trapspringer."

Depiron returned to his comrades and saw there was a human woman who looked humble and, for a human, quite attractive. He gave her a smile, a rare thing these days, and sat before his mead again. He merely nodded her way.

He sat and looked into his mead, neither hungry nor really thirsty, and mumbled into it. _{"Moradin works in mysterious ways allright."}.

While Tarmes waited for Penville to consider her question she waved at the bartender and ordered a steak and the Specialty. ”Lets see just how special it is.”

The blonde looks around the room to try and figure out what to do next. She is new to the wide world and to being on her own. Her brother had told Tarmes that she would need to find her way in the world but he had not given her much more to go by. The attractive young woman fingered the coins in her pocket. The might last her awhile if she lived modestly, but not forever. She would need to find a way to make some money. Well that would be okay. Tarmes’ brothers had taught her most everything they knew. She’d be sure to find some way to make use of her talents.

Penville stares at the woman, rubbing his head with a hurt expression on his face. "You laughed at me?" He seems to be in a slight bit of shock.

As his ability to talk returns, he rubs his head and listening to the dwarf behind him, hands over the coin to the bartender. "These sort of things always happen to me. I mean I think I'm cursed." he says to no one in particular.
Rawwooooooo the dog seems to answer nodding inbetween it's whisky lapping.
Returning the nod, the depressed little figure takes a shot from his mug, glancing at the female and rubbing his head.
"Seems there is no place like home. Still home was a cave, so I guess this place is better. And the drinks not bad, food good and warmer, I know Bigby likes it. I mean what are we supposed to do to get a little rest around here? Whenever we stop somewhere something seems to go on, and it normally results in death." He takes another sip.

”Cursed? Death?!” Tarmes’ attention is yanked back down to the halfling and his canine companion. ”Everywhere you go results in death? Are you some sort of jester assassin?” She tried to make light of the situation but all hints of her amusement had gone.

At that point the steak and the Specialty arrived. Tarmes fished in her pocket and produced a dull gold coin which she gave for the food. The glass of the Specialty sat there tempting her but the girl eyed the glass suspiciously. It was slightly warm and crystal clear. ”It looks like water.” She barely took a sip and suddenly sputtered and coughed and nearly dropped the glass. ”Balls of fire!” she swore, ”Sharess Herself could not drink five glasses!” Impulsively she stuck out her tongue and wiped it with her hand hoping to get rid of some of the burning sensation from the alcohol. Either she didn’t notice or didn’t care about the stares she was getting. After recovering her senses a bit she told the barkeep she would just keep to the ale instead.

”Here shorty, you brave enough to try this stuff?” The blonde pushed the drink toward Penville. ”Tis like liquid fire it is. I am called Tarmes. What is your name jester?” She wiped her hand off on her pants and stuck it out to Penville to shake.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:22, Thu 09 Nov 2006.

Penville looks at the drink and sniffs it. "One way to tell" he grins and holds it for the dog. Bigby sniffs it, sniffs again, then turns away to go back to his whiskey.

"There we go, it's either no good for drinking or not to his tastes, and he has stronger tastes than me, so I'll pass too."

"Ho hum, my names Penville and I'm a traveller, not really sure what I do. Though I am trying to like, collect stories, as Bigby is a fan of stories, but I can't write them down, which is a shame. And no I'm not a jester. I've the luck of a fool a lot of people say though. Well the ones not eaten." He looks around in case giant spider people are going to come out and eat everyone. Again.

Raaoow Raaff rooo
Says the canine turning.

Penville attempts to translate:
"What's that? Timmy's down a well? Hahahaha" met with silence and a stare from the dog that makes you think it wants to smack him around the head.

"Sorry it's a joke from... well far way, no one seems to get it. Bigby, this is Bigby, he's saying hello"
At this point Bigby steps up on the stool and extends a paw for you to shake.

"Oooh he likes you" Penville says, inspecting the drink again, wondering of it's other potential uses.

Looking between Penville and Bigby leads the young woman to wonder briefly which of the two of them had more common sense about him. "Nice to meet you mister Bigby. Good call you made on that Specialty." Tarmes took the offered paw and shook it as she would any other intelligent creature.

Turning back to her steak and ale, Tarmes tried to find out some more about Penville. She was beginning to realize he was full of himself...or something. There was something about the halfling that seemed off kilter. "So you collect stories, but do not write them down. You are not a jester, but dress like one. You have a dog that drinks whiskey. And you eat people who call you a fool. Is that about right?" It was obvious the pretty girl didn't think too much of Penville's story so far.

Peering around, it's a few moments before he refocuses on her, and a second before he realises she'd been speaking to him.
"Huh? Oh, eating people? Do I look like I eat people? No, what it is, I mean a lot was right, this dress is from a shaman I met as I was first out with Bigby. He was but a puppy then, and his ability to smell life and food have saved us on more than one occasion. Oh this isn't a dress, I mean the way I dress. Erm, well he likes Whiskey, Bigby that is, but like most dogs he'll eat pretty much everything, except gherkins, he's not a fan of them."

Penville reaches down to ruffle Bigby's head, but his small arms and the stool make the task an impossibly without risk of falling once more. "And a lot of people call me a fool, as I wear this costume and things, I mean costume is a better word than dress, at least it's less confusing, I think, but it's been blessed and where others have died I've been spared with some really odd results. So it's good luck. And I'm told it makes people think I'm easier to kill than I look. But then I've have others say I look really really easy to kill so I'm not sure how effective it is." Taking a mouthful of food allows you to get a word in yourself.

Mundin looked at the short human with a discerning look in his eye, as the gleam from his gleaming spiked platemail wasn't lost, even in the dim of the building, as a mark of a Hammer and Shield was inscribed around a small mark, one of a suit of armor which seemed to be made out of stone, and a heavy mace.  The heavy mace that he carried seemed to gleam in the dim as well.  The trip over to the old runecaster that lived nearby had ineed borne fruit.

Not yet taken away by drink he motions to a stool next to Depiron and himself.  "Sit down, if ye would, lass, and we can discuss more on what ye seek, and what we be looking for ourselves."

After the third attempt to correct Penville she had given up. Tarmes was open mouthed and about to speak but the halfling just kept on explaining. So she shrugged and went back to her steak. It really wasn’t too bad either. And the ale was much better than the watered down stuff they served back home. As Penville’s mouth rolled to a stop Tarmes took her time before replying. She felt sure he would pick right back up again but the funny little man seemed to be done for a moment. ”You remind me of my brother. He likes to go on and on and on. I realized one day when I caught him talking to himself that he just likes the sound of his own voice.” She chuckled and went on before Penville could fill in the silence.

”Are you as new in this region as I am Penville? I need to find some work and a place to stay.” She may have been young but she had become more practical and level headed over the last couple years. ”Best I take care of the important business soon as I can before I find my pockets and my stomach both empty.”

"Well recently new, but oldly not. I mean I was from around her and grew up not far, but we've been away travelling. So we're back now and it seems in much the same boat. So why is it you're out on your own and what work are you looking for? I've always found something comes up." He smiles, chomping away on bread.

Looking around the bar he nods. "See them over there, they looks like an adventuring party. You can tell as they're well armed, enjoying the drink and life and not talking about nothing or looking bored with their lives. That's as they're happy to be alive, as they know they could be dead any time." He nods sagely.

Thamol really does not feel happy in inn.  He want be in barn.  He misses his friends.  However the arrival of young woman does take his interest.  He sit for some time just watching her.  He is quite open with what he is doing.  A smile is found on his face.  For now he does or says nothing.

"Thank you master dwarves." Lexis says as she take a seat at the dwarves table. She has a smile for both of them, returning Depiron's earlier. She raises her hand to call for an ale before beginning. "I seek adventurer for a number of reasons. To advance Tymora's name. To bring safety to Vassa. To increase my money pouch. I came to Perda's Rest escorting a caravan that was headed to Damara. I have reason to stay in Vassa though so we parted ways here." She stops as the ale arrives. She hands the barmaid 5 silver coins for the 3 mugs of ale. "Thank you kindly."

She takes a swallow of ale before continuing. "I've been here for a few days looking for more work, but not seemed to turn up. The locals don't seem to think a woman can handle herself in danger. I assure though I am not the frontline fighter you are in that plate, my daggers will be useful enough in combat. I also have considerable experience disarming traps and scouting." She takes another swallow. "There are plenty of vermin in the hills. It would be a service to Vassa to rid the countryside of them, and it would be a service to ourselves to rid them of their ill gotten gains."

"Adventure," Depiron said disguested. He was very much not himself and it was grief that caused him to be that way. "Little girl, go home before you get yourself killed."

No, it wasn't the mead talking. It was the mood. Depiron had been brooding for a while and he was starting to dislike the ever-lasting babbling. He felt he was an elder traveleller and she just a youngster who had no idea about life and how life felt. He drank the rest of his mead, feeling how he needed it but also feeling how his stomach protested. He put the mug on the table, a little too hard and then looked into Lexis' eyes.

One could see and hear, especially a fellow dwarf, Depiron was not mad at Lexis, he was mad at who she said she was and at the world in general. He didn't look at Mundin.

Tarmes had turned her attention to the two dwarves and the human female that Penville had pointed out. She watched them talking for a moment and picked up a few words here and there. Specifically the fact that the short human was looking for work, same as Tarmes, and that she used daggers for her protection, same as Tarmes. The blonde took another swallow of her drink and sized up the raven hared girl. "Scuse me Penville. You should watch this. I think you might make a story out of it."

Tarmes stood and strode toward Lexis and the two dwarves. She caught Depiron's last few words and tried to figure out if she could make use of the situation. "What makes you think she will get herself killed good sir-dwarf? Sounds to me like the little girl is just trying to make herself useful and earn a few coins. Same as most folk. Same as me even." Her pose made the handles of her five daggers easily visible. "I doubt her aim is as good as mine, but give the girl chance." The taller female smiled a self-assured smile at the two dwarves.

Penville shook his head. How come the fat, hairy, old dwarves always got the tall attractive human girls? "Always the way" he confides in Bigby. Not that he expected to ever get any girls, life just didn't work out that way. Well as most people died as they started to get happy.

"I wonder what she's going to do?" He says to himself. Watching on with interest, as he pulls out a dagger and picks his nails, trying to pry the bits of food out. He'd have to get used to this 'cutlewery' one day. But for now, he ate as needed. Seemed no one cared in taverns, unlike that one time at the royal court...

Mundin listened to what seemed to be an uncharacteristic remark from his recently found friend.  He did give a bit of a level look to Depiron, which bespoke both understanding at his loss, but that what the young priest had said was not entirely necessary.  However, it did give him a good idea at to how to bring the anxious girl to heel if need be.

Mundin wasn't dim-witted by any stretch of the imagination, but he needed something to spurn his own latent cleverness.  He carefully untied the piece of fur-laden scarf from his gauntleted wrist, and surprisingly there were no hole marks within it.  He held it in his hand and let the girl look at it, and his accent was now perfect common, with none of the dwarven inflection, something he only did when he was deadly serious.

"There was a young halfling lass in my travels not too long ago when we decided to go and find the dread necromancer Neconlius II, and stop him from bringing down an undead horde.  Her name is Opa Merryweather, and I swear the girl had some gnome in her, since she didn't know when to be quiet.  She was bright, cheery, and strangely enough, very intelligent.  She had all the earmarks of being a promising mage at some point."

He pointed at the scarf, his face grave.  "This is all that I have to remind myself of her, and she's still missing, if not dead."

He gave a level look, a neutral yet pointed look at the young lady, as some of the dwarven accent came back.  "You obviously have some experience in the field lass, otherwise ye would have never been asked to escort a caravan.  But in me own foolish days not long ago, perhaps a few years past, I lost me best friend since we thought we could tangle with a white dragon and her brood.  I barely survived meself, and live with that shame every day.  Still, we do what we must."

Mundin gave the girl a piercing gaze.  "If ye be willing to travel with us, ye must be willing to give all, your life if need be, and forge your own luck, not rely on luck for luck's sake.  That be a failing I see in the few I know who followed Tymora's path.  If you come to aid our fellowship, and be a member of it, to listen and be listened to in return, and be willing to give yer life for this cause of tracking down this Necromancer with us, yet not being reckless in this pursuit, I believe ye will be welcome.  If not, well, I like yer spirit lass, but ye won't be welcome with us.  Choose."

Lexis's smile twists to a frown at Depiron's words. Her eyes turn from black to almost black red and start to glow softly. "Perhaps if I had a home, I would go to it Master Dwarf. While my 20 winters may not seem like much for a dwarf they are long for a human, and I have been on my own five of them. Being on the streets makes one desperate and I choose to adventure for my living. It is better than stealing from innocent merchants."

Lexis takes a long drink of ale as Tarmes speaks her piece, and her eyes fade back to black. "You anger me and I say to much in my anger. Everyone chooses their own way to make a living. This is how I choose mine. My life is my own to gamble with."

Lexis's frown fades as she listens to Mundin speak. She appears thoughtful after he mentions Neconlius and Opa.  "I am sorry for your loss. I assure you I would never gamble or take unnecessary chances with your lives. I merely state that the adventuring profession is somewhat of a gamble. A noble cause is a great thing though." She thinks for a moment more. "I give you my oath, by Lady Luck. If you will accept me, I will support you in your cause against the necromancer till death or till we mutually part ways."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:28, Sun 12 Nov 2006.

Thamol has finally notice Lexis and now seems to spend next few minutes looking backwards and forwards between her and Tarmes.  Still he does not say anything but watches and listens.
However the little owl on his shoulder does not seem to be very please at his master reactions and flapping his wings a bit.

These guys were a serious bunch. Very serious. The port town where Tarmes had grown up had its fair share of Adventurers that passed through. In her experience they were usually rowdy and liked to have a good time. Only a few had been dwarves and none of the stout folk really stuck out in her memory. But these two were morose and discouraging.

Adventurers it seemed always had plenty of coin to spend and Tarmes had thought Lexis was negotiating for a well paying position with a some of them. She had planned to come over and prove her skill with her daggers and earn a spot next to Lexis, or even in place of Lexis. But after hearing Mundin's speech, that didn't sound at all like something she wanted to be a part of. In fact she wondered why Lexis was still standing here and swearing to stick with them. Adventure and excitement and high stakes were all great ideas. But dead halfling girls didn't sit well with Tarmes.

So she changed the subject, "Say, would you men know where else I could find a job in this town?"

Penville watched on with morbid facination. Surely this wasn't what Tarmes had expected to happen? He tried to think of ways he could, well infact he was having trouble thinking what he could do. He'd only just got back to the cold.

He finished off his meal, chewing it out longly and nodding his head with the action of chewing such meat. Pulling himself down from his chair he takes his drink over and sits in a seat near the posse, in which to see and hear the goings on better.

"So you lot are supposed to be adventurers huh? Aren't you a bit old?" he says, no mirth, or sarcasm in his voice.

Mundin smiles a bit at Lexis giving a nod.  "Excellent, lass.  I think ye'll fit in rather well with us.  Don't mind Depiron, miss, and try not to be too harsh on him, it's been a hard time for him this last tenday, as his companions and his best friend were found dead in the caves near here.  He be a good man, just having the same feelings I did when I lost me best friend some years back.  I'd ask for your hand on this, but ye may not want to get poked by the spikes on me gauntlets."

Mundin then looks at Depiron with a look of comradeship.  "Depiron, we do need the help, and if they're willing to take the risks, we can nae afford to turn them away."

Mundin then ties the scarf back on the wrist, careful to avoid the sharpened spikes on them, before addressing Tarnes off-handedly.  "If there are others around who wish yer services, yer welcome to find but I nae know who's looking besides us.  Besides, neither this plate mail nor this mace of mine were enchanted before I set on this journey.  There be profit to be found, but I admit there be risk.  I lay the same terms to you, as I did the lady seated here.  If ye agree, ye be welcome, if not, ye be free to look elsewhere."

When the motley looking halfling in black makes his remark, Mundin doesn't even look back in his direction as if inspecting his now empty mead cup, and paused for a moment before asking Penville, with no sarcasm or mirth in his voice, "Did ye say something, lad?"

"HA! You know the old ones! Fantastic, I've always been told dwarves had a sense of humour, yet the ones I travelled with before didn't. Well I've only travelled with one. He was last seen running after fleeing goblins. Said he was going to clear out the nest. Bet he did as well, he was a good fighter. Not much fun though, almost killed the gnome though." He gives a heads up and a private cheer for his past dwarvern member and the close fight.

"I don't suppose you'd know Gritaxe Bladeforge?" he says as an after thought. "I make quite a good scout and rescuer, and Bigby is good at tracking." He grins.

Profit and risk. Now these were ideas Tarmes could put into her own terms. The talk of enchanted plate mail and an enchanted mace also caught her attention and stoked her curiosity. She had only opened her mouth when, as before, Penville's tongue went into action. It was just as well as she wasn't sure what to say yet anyway. So standing a little bit back Tarmes waited for Penville to say what was on his mind while she contemplated the dwarf's terms.

Lexis addresses Tarmes. "If you are concerned with profit you could do worse than go with the dwarves. Rumor places Neconlius as having many allies, both undead and monsterous. I'm sure there is plenty of treasure to be had from them."

Giving a pause for thought, Lexis turns back to Mundin. "I'm sorry if I have kept you past the one cup you wanted to finish. Shall I assume we depart in the morning? I'll probably be having a few more cups myself before retiring for the night."

Mundin looks at the odd assembly of people forming in front of him.  It literally screams out as an adventuring fellowship, with all of the advantages, and headaches of such.  He first addressed the strange halfling.

"Gritaxe is not familiar ta me, but tha Bladeforge clan is, meaning that they're rivals of my clan in just about everything we do, from athletics, ta mining, ta forging and battle.  Not enemies, but just rivals of mine.  I'm always happy ta meet them, as it gets me own competitive spirit runnin'.  Same terms as I offered ta the ladies, I offer ye."

Mundin then listens and shakes off the apology by Lexis.  "Nay, it be good to get allies in this battle against the necromancer.  I be hoping it be direct, but I feel likely that there will be side trips.  There were the last time I began this and there likely will be again."

Mundin then rises and smiles.  "I think I be retiring meself and will meet everyone who wants to go on our journey down here in the morning.  Don't mind the elves, Thamol over there..."

Mundin points out the wild elf looking uncomfortable in the bar.

"...is a good lad, if sometimes a bit addled.  Seems ta be strangely at home in tha wilds, even here in tha cold.  The stodgy and uptight one..."

Mundin makes it clear that he means Quansil as he points him out, smirking as he does so.

"...isn't much of a talker, but he's good in a battle.  Try not to listen to his criticisms and ye'll be much saner.  Evermeet militia, that one... enough said I think.  And with that, I go to bed.  And yes, barkeep, I'll remember to remove my armor this time before going to bed."

Mundin makes a wave as he heads to the rooms, if nobody stops him.

The fetching young blonde stepped a little closer to involve herself in the conversation. She noticed the odd collection of strangers as well. Tarmes had heard many an adventuring story in her parents' tavern. It was starting to look like those stories really did happen. At least this time it did. Two dwarves, two elves, two humans, and one halfling. The vague assurances made by Lexis go a long way toward helping Tarmes make a decision.

Mundin finds himself held back by his shoulder. "Let me get this right: You want people willing to give their life to follow your cause in exchange for the treasure of the monstrous allies of a dead necromancer?" She reaches up and rubs her ear between two fingers; a sure sign that she is thinking. "I will consider this proposition good-sir dwarf. You will see me come the dawn...or you won't." With that said she let Mundin go to his room.

Tarmes turned to Lexis, "I would like very much to join you in those cups if you are up for some company." Then she waved at Thamol and Quansil as if to invite them to join her. She reasons it will be easier to make her decision if she hears what the others have to say about it.

Thamol get up and come over to the dwarf now he been introduced.
"It be nice to have your fair presents with us dear ladies.  I've been missing the company of my dear dryad friends of my home forest.  To have you with us will for me replace their missing beauty with your own.  Males dwarven just do not look same as fair nymphs of forest in any away shape for form.  Your selves however…."
He smiles to both.  It quite clear Thamol is very well acquainted with the dryad of the forest and see no problem this or anything to hide.
"I walk all wilderness as my home and as such I help group.  I also have my friends.   Whitefeather my owl."
He points to small owl that now perched on beam banging his head against wall in embarrassment at Thamol.
"Ruff an wolf and my beautiful riding horse.  I will return to barn where they are.  It is very very cosy in the hay.  If either of you ladies would like you can join me you welcome."
Again it quit clear that Thamol see no problem with making such an offer or it is out of place.  However his little owl seems to have turned his back on his Thomal and clearly not going to join anybody in barn.

"You are Thamol yes? Please do not go yet. Sit here with us and tell us what you think about the dead necromancer." Tarmes pulls out a chair at a nearby table and sits next to the spot that Mundin just vacated. "Why are you chasing the necromancer with these dwarves?"

Thamol stops and turn round.
"Thanks you, I would love to spend time with you."
He sits beside Tarmes.
"Well I am hear on my own personal mission."
He takes his hand and pulls an oak tree seed and shows it to Tarmes.
"I was asked my close dryad friend to take this to Great Ice Tree in this land.  I am looking for it but it is hard to find.  The dryad that bonded with it hides herself very well.”
He places the seed back into his leaf armour very carefully.
"As I was looking I came across the dwarves.  They are fighting undead.  I believe in protecting the wilderness.  Few things are unnatural but Undead are.  The dead souls should go to their god depending on the way they lived.  Their bodies should return to land to be recycled and reused.  To raise want was once living up again and to let it wander the land killing just evil.  Total evil.  That is way I am helping them.”
He then asks her a question.
"Do you understand how I feel?"

OOC: Just note to say Thamol has 17 charisma and rank in Diplomacy so he can be very charming.

Penville goes very quiet and stares at the dwarf. As the dwarf moves off, he half turns as if looking into another world. "Did he..."
Raawwulf
"Oh not..."
Grrrawwoooo
"Oh right, yes of course. Okay then, ummm Bigby drink?"
Wooo
"Umm barkeep, can I get another whisky, a beer and fill up the flask with Whisky t'boot. Bigby will bring the coin." he says, twisting in his seat to sit facing the table where the remaining people are.

Digging around in his pouch he pulls out enough for the drinks and passes it to Bigby in a pouch. Who duely delivers the coin and hands over the flask. "Did someone say necromancers? Why is there always death everywhere?" he says, frowning.

"Hey wench!" Tarmes grabs the arm of a passing barmaid. "Get us a round of ale here. One for everybody. I will pay for this one. Next one is on you guys." She slaps a silver down in front of Penville to replace the one that Bigby already trotted away with. Tarmes' rough personality is a sharp contrast to her enviable good looks.

"So you come all the way into the cold northern lands to plant a tree?" Thomol would see that she looks very amused and on the verge of laughing at him. "Well I am no farmer but the way I hear it the plants grow a lot better in warm weather. That dryad must have been REALLY convincing. Maybe she bonded with you too?" Tarmes laughs at her own joke. "I would say something about elven trees but that might be rude of me."

After a moment of trying to stop herself from laughing, the blonde human turned back to Penville, "Did you stand here talking so much that you did not hear what the dwarf was talking about? They are chasing a necromancer and want help from people who no longer value their lives."

Thamol enjoys talking to Tarmes and laugh along with her.  He does not see the joke is on him but thinks she enjoying the story.
"Life is wonderful thing and loves to grow where ever."
He explains.
"As for bonding with Warmwinds, yes I did.  Many times.  She said she enjoyed bonding with me.  Said she liked the fact I did not seem have many hang ups as humans and other intelligent  creature do.  She said she recommend wood elves to any other female.  Especially me.  She even likened me to an oak."
Thamol is being totally open on truthful, maybe to truthful.
Maybe the most worrying thing about talking to Thamol is now everybody can clearly see he not drunk.  He totally stone cold sober.

Lexis is content to drink her ale and listen to the conversation around her. She nods politely at the elves as they are introduced. She doesn't seem much fazed by Thamol or Penville, but she doesn't offer anything either. After a few more cups of ale, Lexis retires to her room for the night and comes down the next morning to join the group preparing to leave.

Tarmes' eyes go wide as Thamol gives his explaination. And then so does her grin. Apparently the joke is on her and she finds it even funnier than the last one. "HA HA! That is excellent goodman-elf! That is most excellent. I say that deserves a toast." She lifts her mug to Thamol. "To oak trees: may we all find the one we are looking for." With that she takes a long drink of ale. "Thamol, I think you and I are going to become fine friends." Tarmes drinks a few more mugs as well and decides that between Thamol and Penville she will go along on this journey for the entertainment value alone.

Thamol laugh too.  He lifts his mug of water to Tarmes.
"It nice to have laughter.  I like dwarves but they do seem a bit dry sometimes.  To you Tarmes and may you find the oak tree(s) that will make you happy."
The smile and look on Thamol face says there is an open ended offer to the lass should she want it.  Thamol is clearly an elf that would never push himself on any female but also clear he free with his affections.  Even if she was not take him up on the offer that night it would still stand until he indicated otherwise.
At this point he elf nearly falls of his chair.  He laugh even more.  Thamol clearly not at home sitting on chair.
”Tell me more of land you come from please, what trees like, and fields.  What grows in that area.  What animal live in land.”  Thamol move the conversation on to another subject he loves so Tarmes does not feel under pressure.

The expression and the smile that Thamol gives Tarmes are clear enough. She has seen that look on more than one face. But this elf, as he was sitting there smiling, did not have the look of a man who would force himself on her.

But then Thamol changed the subject. "Trees and fields? Well there was very little of that where I am from." She explains that she grew up in a port town with lots of sailors and ships and merchants, but very little in the way of wildlife. There were farms outside the main part of town of course. But even when Tarmes and her brothers had gone out of the town for some reason she learned very little about the trees.

Tarmes would talk with Thamol for awhile longer. She told him about her five brothers, four older and one younger. She proudly pulled out several of her daggers and showed them off to Thamol pointing out how sharp she kept them. Eventually Tarmes would decide to get some sleep so that she will be rested for the trip in the morning.

Deep in thought Penville can only reply: "I do value my life, not much. Bigby's is likely more important and he was... the runt" whispering the last part "But still, if there are things to do then we might as wwell do them, gotta make a living somehow."

The band of adventurers, as well as a few loners who had either promised their service to the group or simply invited themselves along, went to the top of the tavern, making sure that any who needed it had their own room.  This was a record night for the inn, with every room and the stables filled with paying customers, and they were happy enough to provide any help they could.  It seemed as only a second, perhaps two, before morning came.  The beds - or hay - was not as soft as it could have been, but it was much better than camping on the hard, cold ground again.  It felt like paradise to the small group of adventurers.  One by one, they all came down to the tavern, for breakfast or a mug of ale, and there were already a few customers, most of them from the night before.  There was one exception, a figure in the back of the tavern, almost as if he were hiding from the light.  His age was indeterminable, from the hooded cloak over his head, though his frame was most decidedly male.  He stayed silent, nursing a mug of beer or ale, or perhaps something a bit stronger, as he watched the customers come down.

OOC: As for the price of the rooms, you can decide who sleep with whom.  It costs about four silver per room (that has two beds, a tub, and a privy) and about three copper for a spot in the stables.  A silver for any mounts in the stables, and an additional four silver for food and care and stuff like that.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:16, Mon 20 Nov 2006.

Creaking his neck with a gasp he ambled along swinging happily on his little frame. Whilst his walk seemed happy and in the swing of a glorious morning, his usual face of twisted pain and unhappiness was spread across his face like a plague. Yawning he moves over to the bar, giving a dreary wave to any that recognise him and offer greeting.

"I'll av two brekkies please, and a drink with each, a nice juice would be good, but anything non alcoholic prefered. Ohh make mine a milk" he says, waiting for the tab and paying up before moving over to an empty table and looking around to see if he recognises anyone.

The tiredness in his eyes clouds his view and no amount of rubbing seems to help, but does feel good, as he yawns again, the jingling of the bells seeming to cause him to frown once more. "The first one up? Gah I should have stayed in bed more. He says to himself dreaming of the warmth upstairs, and the ability to not be concious.

(OOC: Revision tommorrow... or maybe later.
Meanwhile a spot int he stables is as much as a bed? Gah!)

After checking on his warhorse and seeing that her wounds were healing nicely Quansil enters the inn cursing in elven under his breath about how much of a hypocrite the so called druid was to allow such a heroic animal to suffer.  Going to the bar he says, Innkeep some more of those greens for breakfast for me and water since your inn carrys nothing but human swill for wine.

On her first night out in the world on her own, Tarmes decided to splurge a bit and paid full price for a room to herself. As the only daughter among six children her father had made sure she had a bed to herself while growing up, but didn't have the space to give Tarmes her own room. The silence of being by herself in the night for the first time took a little getting used to.

Tarmes splashed some water on her face and dressed. She came downstairs a little bleary from the previous night's entertainment but was more or less awake and alert. The smells of morning were pleasant and she took a seat next to Bigby. "Hiya Penville. What's for eats?" A simple breakfast, bread, cheese, and small piece of ham along with water went a long way toward cheering her up.

"So what do you think the dwarves are gonna want to do with us today?" She talked with her mouth full but at least she didn't stare at Penville as she did it. "I wager we have to travel a whole lot of miles today."

---

OOC: I agree with Penville. I would have been surprised if a spot in the barn was more than 5 coppers. I mean, considering a spot on the floor in the common room is usually considered poor lodging and costs 1 SP. Of course it's Fido's game so he makes the prices.

Thamol wakes up in nice spot in barn.  The evening had gone well.  He now had some good female company which was always welcome.  Before going to bed he made big fuss of both ruff and horse.  So they don't feel left out.
He also checked other animal in barn.  They doing well and Quansil Valania horse was healing nicely.  He did feel sorry for horse but he not going to interfere.
He still not sure why the elf had not ask for his help directly with horse but The Child need to be left to learn by himself.  Thamol know best leave him alone.

Lexis comes down the next morning, takes a table by herself, and eats a hot breakfast. She doesn't make a move to talk to the others for now, but sits over the remains of her breakfast, rolling a copper piece over her fingers. She seems lost in thought.

Mundin comes down for breakfast as well, noting that the innkeeper still has credit from the meal that he and that the strange halfling took when he chucked over that platinum piece.  Leaving credit at this place, something to rely on while in poorer straits in the cold was always a wise idea.

Noticing Lexis sitting by herself, he strode by and if allowed, would sit at her table and smile at the young girl.  "Copper for yer thoughts, lass?"

Lexis looks confused for a moment then smiles at Mundin. "Just waiting for everyone to come down and remembering other times. I have great hopes for our journey. We seem a mismatched group, but perhaps we can all find what we're looking for."

Thamol enters the inn and waits for the other to come down and be ready.  He still does not seems to like being in big building.  He also look little odd in his leaf armor.  Somehow you think he would be freezing.  However he clearly does not notice the cold at all.

From a table nearby Tarmes waves a hand at Mundin. "Hey you, dwarf," She takes a moment to remember his name, "...eh...Mundin. Where we goin today?" She holds a hunk of break in one hand and turns around to straddle the back of her chair and face Lexis and Mundin. "Are we goin a long way? Do we need food supplies and stuff to camp or are we going to the next town?" The beautiful tomboy tears off a big bite of bread with her teeth and chews while she listens to what Lexis and Mundin have to say.

As the beautiful tomboy asked the dwarf of their plans - or at least a relative distance of the day's travels - the figure from the back of the room, from back in the deep shadows, came forward, allowing the hood to gently fall from its place around his head.  As he stepped from the shadows, the cloak that was originally a deep black was actually a blue instead.  The man wearing the claok was a young, clean-shaven human, with just a slight tip to the ears indicating some other blood in his ancestry, most likely elven.  Under the thin cloak, he had more than a bit of bulk, probably furs or something of similar use.  He came forward to the small gathering, looking back to the dwarf and the young girl.  "One of my friends told me you were looking for a mage?  Would you happen to know his name?  Or perhaps his specialty, if any?"  He spoke with the question in his voice and eyes, somehow almost begging for the information.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:39, Mon 27 Nov 2006.

Looking up at the young man of mixed heritage told Tarmes nothing more than she already knew, which was nothing. ”Who me? I do not need a mage.” She took a bite of cheese and talked on. ”Maybe you wanna talk with the dwarf here as he is the one in charge. What do you say, Mundin? Lookin for a mage?”

Lexis stands and regards the human that has presented himself. One of her hands drifts down and grasps a dagger hilt at her belt. "Indeed we are looking for a mage, a specific mage. We would happen to know his name and his specialty. But who might you be? and who are your friends?"

"Wha-?"  The young man's eyes moved down to the young woman's hand - and the dagger.  His brow beginning to sweat at the thought of weapons, he turned his eyes back to her face.  "My name is Ronal.  I-I mean Ron.  Yes, yes, just Ron.  And my friends, they're people in town.  They told me about some guy from the West making a bit of a fuss last night, and then they heard one of the traveler dwarves talk about a mage, or a necromancer or something of the sort.  I-I'm sorry if that was a private conversation, but word got back to me.  And I'd just like to know if you knew his name."  The young man's voice started as nothing more than a nervous jumble of words, but as he ended it was a bit stronger and there was almost a pleading tone in his voice.

Thamol looks at the young man.  Something does not add up.
"Ronal or Ron is it?"
Thamol ask.
He makes a hand movement to ruff to move towards the young man.  The movement is one that mean ruff may find food if person friendly.
"She good at sensing friend or foe.  Somehow she know if someone liaring or telling the true.  She does not like liars."
Thamol give the boy questionings look.

Quansil sit back at his table alone watching the studipity of the dwarves.  Thinking to himself, Just how stupid are these dwarves.  Teaming us with buffoons and amateurs.  They'll be lucky to get out of this alive.  Good thing I'm along maybe I can drill a little discipline into them before the fighting starts.  My superior intellect and military training will probably give them the best chance of getting out this campaign with their lives.  Then again I've learned not to expect much from the lesser races.

Mundin looked directly at the young man with a hard look, but then gave a gravelly reply, almost in a whisper.  "We're looking for Neconlius II, a necromancer of some power, hoping to take him down.  What exactly are you doing here?"

Lexis' move isn't lost on Tarmes. Seeing the shorter girl make a show of being threatening, Tarmes decides she won't be outdone. The blonde pulls open her leather vest to reveal the brace of three daggers she wears at her side. Then she takes another bite of the bread from her plate and watches to see what Ron will do next. "Thamol, does your puppy dog only bite liars?"

"Just Ron.  My parents called me Ronal, but it's just Ron.  Nothing more.  And wh-why would I be lying to you?  What would I lie about?"  Ruff seems to find nothing wrong with the young boy, no sense of lying from the young man.  Or nothing to communicate to Thamol, anyway.  Ron looked back to the other girl, the one who just bared three of her own weapons, and the dwarf.  For a second, it almost appeared as though he might cry, but he somehow held it back, though his voice was breaking as he spoke.  "Me, I was just sitting down here drinking a bit of something, it is a tavern."  He looked warily at the wolf before changing his mind.  "I wa-was waiting for the people my friends told me about.  They told me that they managed to keep the dr-drunk from doing much harm, and they mentioned something about a necromancer.  I was just trying to ask a few questions, maybe help out a bit?"  The young man turned his head downward while muttering, "I guess I can't do much; you already know where he is.  I just needed to do something."  As far as anyone, including Ruff, could tell, the boy was truly being sincere.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:56, Tue 28 Nov 2006.

Thamol calls ruff back.
In answering Tarmes he smiles.
"No not just lairs, there few nasty thing she like to sink her teeth into but lair are high up on list."
The elf the levels his eyes at boy.
"Well there is no harm in us going over what you know.  Sometime bits are missed that maybe useful.  I would also like know more about these friends you talk of.   Like there names and what they do.  If answer these question you could be use to us."
It seems to Thamol that boy want to be useful so no point in putting him down.

Lexis removes her hand from the dagger and smoothes the edge of her cloak. "I'm sorry Ron. I'm suspicious by nature and you showing up seeming to know our business seemed suspicious to me. It seems like you've been through something hard. Please take a seat and tell us about it." Lexis gestures to an empty seat at the table and then takes a set herself.

Lexis says aside to the druid, "I think he is fine Thamol and to be trusted. He obviously has something important for us."

Feeling slightly out of the group, Penville remains quite and ensures Bigby is satified if they were going on a journey ahead. Listening intensely, he takes his position of being ignored by the masses to see how people work, react, hold themselves and other body language.

His skill with body language was increasing and he'd always had a good start, able to see many changes with everyone. Sadly he didn't know what most of the signs meant, so that was still a learning process. Humans were different from dogs.

Tarmes watched the conversation between Ronal and the rest of the group. She had nothing to add for the moment so she still sat backwards on the chair and leaning on its back while she listened. She looked relaxed but interested and occasionally seemed to be measuring the people around her, though there was no way to know what she was looking for.

"M-my friends?  Well, Thurmond works over in the Supplies.  You know, the green-roofed building when you came in?  Well, it was covered in snow, but it should be wiped off now.  And there was Ramond, works over at the blacksmith.  You know, shoes horses a bit and fixes the odd weapon or two.  They said you fixed some outsider, gave a description of you they did, and then said you mentioned something about a necromancer, or mage.  I guess it's not that hard to guess who you were talking about, but I had to be sure."  Ron turned his head back to the woman who had threatened him only moments before, his eyes still weary that she might have other motives - perhaps to give more than a simple threat, but eventually took a seat lightly at the table.  "It's okay, I guess you're right.  I would be suspicious, maybe.  I wouldn't know, I wouldn't be the one going after some mage or another.  But I had to find you before you left, I needed to talk to someone who might actually stand a chance against him.  From what Thurmond and Ramond told me, you," he gestured to the two dwarved, "Are capable enough on your own, not to mention. . . your. . . friends?"

The nervous young man was starting to get on Tarmes’ own nerves. ”Look boy, bloody tell us what you want.” She used strong words but said them casually, almost like she was bored. ”What in Bane’s Name makes you wanna come over here and interrupt people who are clearly on important business?” She inflected the word “important” by gripping one of the daggers at her side. ”Speak your flaming peace and then leave us be.” Apparently Tarmes is more than a little rough around the edges.

"Hey, if you don't want my help - obviously you don't need it - I can leave now.  It's just that this guy's been around to all the villages - I guess all, at least to this one - to get more 'servents' for his cause.  This necromancer, he attacked a bit, took a few dead bodies and left.  My parents and brother were there, and I don't want some adventurers on important business to screw it up simply because they're too damn stubborn to listen to someone."  Something in Tarmes seemed to irk the young man, or at least got him angry enough to go on with whatever purpose he had in coming to the table.  The red in his face seemed a bit darker shade than could simply be explained from the cold, although his eyes seemed closer to tears - even though they would be angry tears - than spitting venom.

Quansil adds, Then be off with you human.  My dwarven compainions have already agree to let buffons and amateurs tag along.  We don't need a child along to look after.  Turning to the dwarves he adds, Have the two of you finished wasting time or are you ready to be off?

*Raaeef Raoooow*

Penville looks at the puppy like creature and starts laughing along with the dog.

Mundin gives a scathing glare at Quansil, though he shouldn't be surprised at the short and seemingly narrow-minded behavior of the elven militiaman.  He then takes a steady look at the boy, as he speaks rather quietly, some gruff compassion in his voice.

"Lad, we be merely trying to make sure ye not be hurting yerself here, some with a bit more venom than others.  As far as yer earlier mentioning of the drunk, he be a fool who may find himself drowned in an ale barrel before he turns 40, but the compliment be appreciated.  Now, I know ye be wanting to help, and I fer one want to know more of this Necromancer and where he be going.  The more we know, the less surprise we get when he be found.  I lost two good companions to this necromancer already, possibly three, two of the three aspiring mages like yerself.    What else can ye tell us of where this necromancer has gone?"

Quansil looks at the scathing glare of the dwarf straight in the eye and replies, We've already wasted a day going off on one of your side treks which really yielded nothing to help our cause.  Now you wish to waste more time on the useless jabbering of a human child.  The more time you waste the stronger the undead horde grows.  If you're too much of a coward to face such a foe then be honest about it and admit it.  Otherwise let us be on our way.

A curious look came over Tarmes' face. She ignored Quansil to keep her attention on the young man. The blonde cocked her head to the right and looked Ronal over once more, "Are you saying that you came over here to offer help finding the undead wizard? Ashes! You use a whole lotta bloody words to say something simple Ron." The way she chuckled at this was clearly playful. She was not laughing AT Ronal. "Well go on then. Sit down and answer Mundin's questions."

Looking at the human female Quansil replies, I don't remember addressing you human.  Go home.  Find yourself a husband to take care of you.  You're most likely going to get killed going with as ill prepared as you seem.  Do you think that doing tricks with your pitiful daggers is actually going to be of any use.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:00, Mon 04 Dec 2006.

*Raaoof*

"Yes I was wondering that too, Mr Valance, if you're so good at what you do as to insult everyone, then how come you're not proving you're not a coward enough to go off on your own? Or is it that you're not the leader of the group, and infact have no group of your own except these dwarves?" Penville says, the words and manner of the elf? beginning to grate on him.

"Oh and us new fellow buffoons and amateurs" he adds with a wink to Tarmes.

Quansil replies, I do not remember addressing you or giving you my name buffoon.  Speak only when your superiors talk to you.  As a jester and a servant you should be used to your place.

Tarmes scoffed at Quansil and rolled her eyes. She might swear a lot but Tarmes was not one to seek out confrontation and start fights for no reason. She was much more easy going than that. ”Tell you what, elfi, if you wanna cross blades with me then challenge me outright and, Tymora help me, we will see who is the superior here.” The words wore not said in anger. More as if they were a statement of fact. ”But until then keep your flaming mouth shut. I wanna hear what Ron has to say.” Then she turned back to listen to his answers.

Addressing the new member of group.
"Although Quansil Valania may look like an adult and has some skills I am afraid he is just a CHILD.  I fear he will never grow up but I have washed my hand of him.  If his childish words get him into fight let it be."

Quansil smiles at the woman, If you wish to be defeated in combat then let's go about it.  Amateurs like yourself shouldn't make boosts they aren't able to back up.  Just to be sporting I'll use your weapon of choice a dagger and I won't use my skill in magic.  Turning to Thamol he adds, You would rather see those amateurs and buffoons killed in a battle they aren't prepared for?  I guess that I am a child because I don't want to see them killed and tell them honestly what I think they are and what their chances are.  Something that you a so called druid didn't do and now that I have you're resorting to insults to make up for your shortcoming.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:59, Mon 04 Dec 2006.

Thamol smiles.
"It must be wonderful to over estimate your own skills all the time and under-estimate other.  Life must be full of surprises for you."

Quansil smiles, I know my limitations.  There's just nobody here that's better than I am right now.  If you remember the human ranger that challenged me and how I humilated him.  That's just how this challenge will end.

The blond sighed a heavy sigh and hung her head, ”Burn me.” she mumbled. ”Tis not even late morning yet. This is gonna be a long trip.” Tarmes swore to herself she wouldn’t acknowledge anything else Quansil said.

Lexis listens to the conversation take a turn for the worse. "Strange tatics they must teach in Evermeet - to insult your allies, and divide your forces." She murmurs under her breath. Lexis turns to Ronal again and attempts a smile. "I must appologize for my companions' behavior. We seem very rough around the edges. Was there something you wanted to tell us? Please do before he gets any worse." She nods at Quansil slightly.

Seeing that his words took the fight out of the human Quansil looks at Mundin, We've wasted enough time here.  Are we going to hit the road or not?  If not then I am not going to something useful instead of talking to these amateurs you want to lead to their death.  Turning to the other human female, I am not yet your ally.  Secondly I do not come from Evermeet so do not talk of elven lands you know nothing about.  Third if you had any sense you would run and take this human child here with you.  Finally settling his gaze on Ronal, Go home human child we care nothing of what you have to say as we already know where we're going and what we're doing.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:53, Tue 05 Dec 2006.

Thamol moves over to Tarmes and says something in her ear.

He then turns to Quansil Valania.  It seems the druid has finally snapped.
”You will apologise to Tarmes, Lexis and Penville Now Quansil or you will receive no aid from me and I will consider you nothing more that mongrel half-orc that insists on follow us around went you clearly not wanted.  If you stupid enough to say I never aided you and will not need my aid then so be it.”
It is quite clear Thamol is not joking.  The only thing that preventing him from taking strong action is Thamol will never attack another elf unless it in defence.

Mundin looked at Quansil, and he began to get very tired of the nitpicking that the elf wanted to do.  Mundin was just as anxious to get going, but information on the necromancer was more important.  "Quansil, for a race that be supposedly very patient and wise, you seem anxious to go into battle, without knowing where the battle be, which be severely lacking in wisdom!  Have ye NOT thought that the Necromancer may have moved by now and that this youngster, whom ye seem quite keen on berating for not being blessed by elven blood, may actually have vital information, which is vastly more important than rushing off into battle!"

Mundin continued his lecture towards the elven militiaman.  "Yesterday was of community interest and it appeared that we DID stumble upon some bodies, but what happened to the rest?  Use your head, elf, we be finding more clues of the necromancer than not.  And fer one of the military, you have a great grasp of battlefield tactics, I admit, but as for troops... do we have time to go back to elven lands to find troops that would suit your needs?  Just because most of us not be elves, and the other elf we have here, not be to your liking..."

Mundin shakes his head.  "Now I truly be wasting time, trying to get anything into your thick excuse of an elven skull, since, as our druid friend has said, ye simply don't listen.  Wait or not, I care not, but go alone and ye be welcoming an early grave in the cold."

Mundin then turns to the human boy.  "Forget what this fop of an elf has said, information is important, not rushing to become another undead minion of this dark mage.  What do ye have for us, young Ronal?"

Quansil looks at Mundin and states plainly, Then you wish to lead these newcomers to the slaughter.  They are clearly not ready for a fight with the undead.  The only weapons they claim any skill with are daggers.  Common types of undead need to be crushed not poked.  That's why I have a mace and a sling even though I favor different weapons myself.  You say I'm being unwise to discourage them from coming I'm not I'm trying to save their lives.  We need those that have more strength in arms or might in magic then these newcomers can provide.  The human ranger that was with us was at least a warrior.  Now you wish to rely on the rantings of a human child and maybe lead him to the slaughter too then be my guest.  I charge you with their lives and when they die their deaths will hang heavy on your soul.  Turning to Thamol, I will not apologize for trying to save these people's lives.  It appparently doesn't bother you that letting them follow us will bring about their demise.  As for your aid I have never asked and will never ask for it.  In fact from what I've seen you and you animals are almost completely useless in battle.  Whereas my noble warhorse risked and almost lost her life in our last fight protecting our group.  Yet you a so called druid didn't even examine her wounds or do anything to help with her suffering.  Just the way you ignored such a noble animal no matter what you think of me is dispicable and unforgiveable.  Standing up Quansil heads for the stables, I'll be getting horses ready to leave and securing the supplies which by the way I paid for out of my coin.  If you're not there by midday I'll be setting off with those supplies to find real warriors to deal with this menace.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 13:21, Tue 05 Dec 2006.

"Good bye Quansil." Thamol says with smile.
Thamol turns to Mundin.
"You always been good to me Mundin.  I have no wish to be in company of Quansil any more.  My offer of help still stands but I will not leave this place with Quansil.  He is a foolish child that call others foolish."
Thamol is still smiling but sadness in his words.
"If you leave here with him I will part from you.  However if need my help latter and see me, just ask."

Sensing there was a serious issue here, Tarmes kept her mouth shut. If things were serious enough for Thamol to threaten to leave the group they must be very serious indeed. From what she had seen of Quansil so far she would be glad to see him go and let the charming druid stay. Apparently the bad tempered elf had some military training but Tarmes agreed with Thamol; just because Quansil had better training it did not give him the right to treat everyone else with such disdain. But as she had only joined this company the previous night it was not her place to give voice to her opinion yet. So the tomboy sat quiet and waited to see what Mundin had to say.

Squirming and failing to get a word in with the argument that folllowed, Penville was also reduced to a spectator.

"Is he really that bad? I mean I know a outh can get into fights and can lead to trouble worse than a sneak past may produce, but if he is a good fighter, and he holds himself well, then I'd admit it may be easier with him than without. He seems the sort you'd not want as your enemy. True, maybe not as an ally either, but if we're all going for the same thing." Penville says, trying to get a grasp of the party politics and yet not overstep his mark.

Mundin merely sighed, shaking his head listening to Quansil's rant before turning his head.  "Come along then young Ronal, tell us what you know, so we can face this Necromancer... but if we face battle, don't follow, run."

Thamil sits down and wait for boy to talk.

The young man, more of a boy really, continued watching the angry adventurers talking back and forth, most of it directed at or from the hardened warrior-elf.  Several times, he readied his mouth to open and answer the questions pressed at him to answer, and several times he shut it once again, only to listen to more from the elf.  For a few seconds, he merely sat and waited for someone else to push their way into the conversation before he realised the elf had left.  Wiping a drop or two of sweat that had formed on his upper brow, Ron had a glorious start.  "Wha-what?"  Shaking his head, trying to understand what they were asking of him - to go with them and lead the way - he tried again.  "I've heard rumors around, and I know at least one person who actually saw the way they went.  He might be free, but he's not from around here.  He said they went south, but a bit to the east as well.  Southeast, but his lair - if he has one - could be anywhere.  That's where he left the village, anyway.  Not that I was paying that much attention.  I was. . ."   He looked down, almost as if he were ashamed of himself.  His long, black hair fell over his head as he looked at his feet.  Wiping the hair from his face, he looked back up at Mundin, then over to the rest of the group.  "I was in the closet.  With my little sister, Susan."  He wiped a few tears from his eyes before they could flow down his cheeks.  With his voice cracking up only a bit, he ended.  "I hope you understand.  I can tell you a bit about him, just a bit, and I can perhaps persuade my friend - acquaintance really - to help you.  I have a bit of gold left over from Dad.  But I'm all that she has left.  I have to stay here, for Susan."

Quansil feeds the horses from the deed bags on the sled.  He then brushes them down and saddles them.  Even though this menial work Quansil enjoys doing it for the bond between a warrior and his horse is profound.

A rather rude comment about Ronal hiding in the closet with his sister was on Tarmes' lips. But she realized that she herself had never had to face the death of her parents at the hands of a necromancer. She didn't know how well she would fare in that situation. It seemed likely she would not just hide in the closet, but perhaps that was what kept Ronal alive.

Keeping her insult to herself, Tarmes asked a different question, "You can point us to someone who can show where the flaming necromancer went? Why on Toril is that person not here with you Ron?" She stood up, "We should bloody well go find him."

Quansil staying where he seemed to feel most comfortable, with the his warhorse in the stables, the others followed Ron.  For some reason, possibly from the rude reaction he recieved as he first came in or possibly from the antagonistic nature, he seemed reluctant to even think of taking the elf away from the stables to "bother Quansil with useless, trivial matters of a youth better suited to pulling a plow than adventuring."

Ron led the small group to a small shack on the outskirts of the town.  "Mom doesn't. . . didn't like the city that much.  Too many people bothered her with favors and such.  We couldn't live out there, though, we'd have been dead within the week."  The young man opened the door slowly, making sure everything was in place.  The young man ignored the ruin that was his former home and continued to walk past the first room to the second.  A red wooden chair, almost too expensive for this boy or house, was broken into splinters against the wall.  All that really left it as a former chair was the remains of a soft cushion with feathers poking out of the holes.  "Susan?  Are you here, Susan?"

From a room to the left, a small voice was heard, laughing despite the sense of dread that permeated through the house.  Ron smiled as he went forward into the room.  "Come on in.  Not many seats, but here's the guy I told you about."

Thamol seems a lot happier now the other elf is not around.
He follows the boy.  The owl that always with him sits on his shoulder.  It seems unhappy to be out of warmth of inn.
Ruff the wolf walks beside her friend.
Went he walks in to the house he totally indifferent to it state and mess.  The druid clearly does not think much to build.  So the way the inside looks does not interest him at all.
Both he and his animals friends are on guard.

Zar'Da sat in the small room with the young girl, Susan. He had found much joy in the company of this young human and her brother, even after so much tragedy. The young girl's laughter was infectious and he couldn't help but chuckle along with her as they played a game of peek-a-boo. The man's ears perked when he heard the slightly ruined door to the place open. His sword, never far from his side, was in his hand still in it's scabbard. The thumb on his sword hand loosened the blade from it's resting place, not giving much indication that something might be wrong to the young girl, allowing her to continue playing while he stood and put himself between her and the door.

Zar'Da relaxed when he noticed it was Ronal. He allowed the sword to rest easily once again as he made his way to what was left of the common area of the house. Zar'Da entered the room and was a bit surprised by the collection of people the young man had brought to the house. Zar'Da, standing before the group, was dressed in sturdy leather breeches which were tucked into a pair of hard leather boots. He wore a sturdy shirt with a vest over it. A large thin curved scabbard and sword(Katana-like) hung from his belt, which his hand easily rested on. The strange thing about the man before you is he is covered head to toe. His head and face are wrapped in a scarf and his hands are gloved, the only thing showing are a set of ice blue eyes, slightly almond shaped.
"So my young friend, it would seem you have brought company to your home." Zar'Da says, one hand resting on the boy's shoulder the other resting comfortably on his sword hilt."To what do my young friends owe the honor of your company?"

As they left the tavern, Tarmes pulled her coat on to ward off the cold. It effectively hid her figure, not that she really cared. As the walked to the shack the blonde was reminded of a few places she and her brothers had used to hide out in for one reason or another when they were growing up. Though she knew there were some people who actually lived in such places, she had never met any until now.

She regarded Zar’Da with an inquisitive stare. She was bundled up herself but even she didn’t have her face and hands covered like that man did. It made her nervous. ”That is a question for the dwarf there stranger.” She indicated Moradin.

Zar'Da nods to the young woman then looks to the sturdy dwarf.
"Then it is to you noble dwarf. What buisiness do you have with two so recently fallen on hard times.?" he asked, his hand still not moving from the hilt of his sword but his tone calm and non threatening.

Mundin had a quizzical look as it seemed to look, somewhat familiar to him, yet he knew he never met this man before in his entire sixty or so years of life as a dwarf.  He nodded and started to explain.

"I be Mundin of the Granitearmour clan, good sir.  It would appear that ye have seen a sign of a necromancer that has come to this area, creating havoc and trying to, it would appear, bolster an undead host which he is raising.  We've heard that you saw this and lived to tell the tale.  I've been hunting him for some time with companions, though most have gone and new ones succeed them.  I've lost some friends already to this fiend, some dead, one missing and quite possibly dead.  I'd be grateful for any information you might have."

Penville slowly plods along next to Bigby. As mighty as a wizard the original maybe, there was a significant intelligence attached to each name. "I think they're talking complicated stuff, best to just listen" he says to the dog in a quiet voice.

As if my complete understanding, the dog merely nods his reply, not interupting the flow of conversation coming from those ahead. Penville smiles. His Bigby is indeed wise.

As soon as they exit the inn, Lexis throws her hood back over her face and covers herself deeply in her cloak. She sticks near the back of the party as they travel through town and stands in the back of the group in the hut, trying to escape notice.

Zar'Da listened to the dwarf explain what their buisiness with the young boy was and he began to relax, his hand sliding from his sword to his side.
"It would seem then that we are on the same mission my diminutive friend. I too have been hunting this foul wizard. I tracked him to this village but was too late to try and stop him completely. I came apon this house where a few of his minions had taken to killing poor Ronal's folks." he said, his hand remaining on the boys shoulder as if to comfort him."I have fought undead before in my travels and these were like nothing I had ever encountered. I suppose he had gptten what he came for because he just left, his minions following. We set about trying to take care of the dead but they rose slightly after he left and followed out of town. This wizard must be stopped, and soon, before he turns the whole coutryside into undead. If you would have me I would join your band to help bring peace to Ronal and Susan's parents."

Now that Zar'Da and taken his hand of the sword, Tarmes could not hold her curiosity any longer. "Why the mask stranger? Are you some sort of outlaw? What is it you are wanted for?" She almost sounded excited. "I think any company you ask to travel with has right to see your flaming face. What do you think goodman Mundin?"

Thamol stands back and let the other do talking.

It is only now that group notice something odd about the elf.  He is dressing in a thin leaf like armour.  It new.  It of a light green and brown look.  He also has a clock around him.  However he let cloak move freely and there seems to be little in the armour he got on to keep him warm.  He has no glove and his face open to full force of cold bitter wind.  Only on his feet can seem anything that would be classed as worm.  A pair of good leather boats.
Thamol does not seem to feel the cold.

"I am neither a criminal nor am I wanted, though I do wear this to hide, good lady. But if the only way you will allow me to travel with you is to reveal myself then so be it. The threat of this necromancer is far greater than my fear of prejudice." he said, then turned to Ronal and whispered to him to go in the room with his sister. After the boy left Zar'Da sighed and removed his belt and scabbard and set it against the wall as a gesture of good faith. He then removed his gloves and his head wrap. His features were somewhat soft yet attractive, his eyes slightly almond-shaped ,yet it was clear he was not a full elf. His skin was a deep ebon and his close cropped hair a shock of white as bright as the snow outside, this was a dead givaway as to his Drow heritage.

The only thing that Tarmes knew about drow was in the horror stories told by her older brothers to scare her and the younger brother. Tales told by fireside on moonless winter nights. Tales confirmed by one or two adults. From what Tarmes had heard, the next thing that might come from Zar’Da’s mouth might be a dozen snakes or an incantation to summon a devil!

Her heart leapt in her chest and her blood felt as cold as the wind outside! ”Bane’s breath!” she screamed! ”Tis a bloody drow! Look out!” As if by her own magic a pair of daggers had appeard in her hands and the blond crouched back on the defensive!

Zar'Da took in a deep breath and sighed heavily. He held his hands out wide in a non-threatening manner and said,"Now you understand my need to wear such things to hide my appearence. Even though I am only half Drow people only see the evil of my heritage, even though I do good deeds. Olisus had warned me before he passed but I never get used to the looks."

A look of deep sadness appears on Thamol face.  He shakes his head.  Not really sure what to say.

"Something are, but they should never be.  That does not stop them being and it does not stop them having feelings."

Thamol walks across to Zar' Da.
"I will judge you on your action, not on your race or colour.  I call you half-brother and friend if you will except it."
Thamol seem happy to step out of elven hatred of Drow and offers Zar' Da his hand.

Mundin nodded a bit, and had a bit of an idea with the heavy disguise in place, merely accepting it at face value.  He had not heard many tales of Drow rebelling, simply since it almost never happened.  Musing about a strange story from his youth, he let out a brief bark of a chuckle.

"Tarmes, Thamol has the right of it, put yer blades away.  We know not where he be raised or such, but would tha drow ye know help protect these young ones from tha necromancer?  Tha young ones would likely be killed by most drow, and for all we know, he be an exile, likely.  Half-elf be tough, half-drow, canna even imagine.  Yer deeds so far speak well of ye, Zar'Da.  Yer actions we judge from here on out, but like everyone else, ye need ta earn trust, not just in good deeds, but skill on tha field of battle.  What say ye?"

Mundin then looks at the others.  "And what say ye?  Against this necromancer, we be needing all tha help we can yet."

"We can't do anything about our heritage now can we?" Lexis whispers softly. Clearing her throat she speaks so everyone can hear her. "I'm with you, Mundin. Zar'Da can't help who he was born to. He can only do the best with what he has. I'll speak for him traveling with us." She nods to Zar'Da. "I'll not hold your skin against you. I think I understand some of what you've been through. Perhaps we'll be friends if you prove your mettle."

Zar'Da was taken aback slightly by Thamol's willingness to accept him, especially due to the nature of the Drow-Elven relationship. With a wide smile he clasps the druid hand in a firm shake and says,"I'narr en gothrim glinuva nuin I'anor."
.

He then turns to the other and nods.
"I will do what I can to bolster your lines in the coming battle. I will not let this trust be in vein." he said then began wrapping his head again and replacing his gloves. He then opens the door where the younglings were and went to Ronal.
"Young sir, I am to leave with these people when it is time. I want you to know that I pledge to do everything in my power to avenge your parents and make sure they rest peacfully." he said, laying his hand on the boys shoulder. He then reached down to a pouch on his belt and removed a bag which jingle familiarly. He took the boys hand and placed it in it then closed his fingers over the bag."Now, you take this coin and you make a life for you and your sister. Do not let ANYONE take advantage of you, either of you. I will be back after all this is over to check on you, I promise."

With that he turns back to his new traveling companions.
"Give me a few minutes to gather my gear and we can be on our way." he says then begins the task of placing his armor on and gathering up his traveling gear, finally restrapping on his sword and scabbard.

The fearful defensive stance taken by the dagger wielding tomboy slowly turns to disbelief followed by confusion. Nothing she had ever heard about a drow would have caused Thamol's action or Zar'Da's reaction. Tarmes tapped the end of one dagger against her leg and tried to figure out what she just missed. Everyone seemed to think that this arrangement would work out fine. Or at least that it deserved a chance.

She shrugged and put her daggers away. "Very well then. I greet you Zar'Da the half-drow." The blonde girl forced herself to smile a at Zar'Da but could not quite get up the nerve to shake his hand. "You make a fine suggestion. Let us be on our way."

Zar'Da noted Tarmes reaction to him and her hesitation to clasp hands. He was fully aware of the legends of drow evil and rightly so, they were a foul race at who's hands he suffered for many years. He would do his best to try and win the trust of these, his new companions.

Ron's eyes gleamed with a look of delight - perhaps a bit too devious or vengeful for his health - as Zar'Da vowed to bring his family's slaughterer to justice.  He was a bit taken aback by the bag heavy with gold, and pushed it away.  "No, we have enoguh to get by.  Don't worry about it, we'll be here when you get back.  I'm still old enough to make the bit of coin that it takes us to live, and I have friends in the village besides."


The small group then set out from the ransaked house for the tavern once again.  It was still early in the morning, with a full day ahead of the adventurers.  Still, the town woke with the sun and what little commerce there was was available to the group, should they need it.  Otherwise, the stable with the mounts awaited.

OOC: If you need anything, you can get basic adventuring gear for normal PHB prices.  Alchemical equipment as well as the specialty items (kits, holy symbols, etc.) are possibly available (ask and I'll tell).  Food and animals/animal equipment are avaiable for 1.5 times the cost in the PHB.

If you need nothing, I'll move this on in about a day, possibly two.

Zar'Da smiled and ruffled the young man's hair as he replaced his bag in his pouch.
"Very well then good sir Ronal. I will make sure to stop by when our task is achieved." he said then rose and bid the young ones farewell as he followed this mismatched band back into town.

After checking her gear once more, Tarmes had several questions about how they would be traveling and for how long. ”I have provisions for half a ten-day. How long do you suppose we will be away from civilization? Are we going by horse or foot? Do we have a pack mule? Or do we need one? I can chip in if we do need one. I have never been out in the winter wilds like this. What else should I take?” She might have found a little embarrassment by advertising how new she was to this, but it would be better than dying in the cold because she was too proud to ask questions.

OOC: We can handle this stuff in the OOC thread if you want.

As they walk out the house Thamol turns to Zar'Da.
"That a bit blood thirsty I would say."
He then put his hand though ruffs hair.
"I also think ruff would have something to say about it as well.  I think she may just take them and hide them somewhere."
The elf is grinning at Zar'Da.

OOC: sorry about bad spelling.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:07, Thu 21 Dec 2006.

As Penville had observed the grup, flexing with Tarmes burst into action and the others relaxed poses, his head span. Looking to Bigby, who shrugged a reply in a way only this dog could do, tey stayed silent and followed the group.

As they're moving along, Penville wonders who is best to ask about this mystery before them. Thinking of the words this 'half drow' had used seemed to befuddle his mind more?

Deciding to take things to the point of source, Penville urges Bigby on, so that he is alongside the drow thing, and looking up asks,
"So Mr Zardar, can I ask, what is a drow? I've not heard of the name before? Is it when you've seen a ghost and so your hair goes all white? As if that's the case, how were you born like that? Unless... you're a half ghost?" He says, obviously going down a very wrong path.

Bigby cocks his head as if waiting for the response as they walk.

Zar'Da looks down at Penville, his ice blue eyes sparkling with the sign of a smile which was hidden behind his scarf. As he begins to speak of his ancestory his eyes loose all sparkle and go quite dark.
"No, my little friend, Drow are not ghosts. They are an evil race, cousins to the surface elves. They live in large underground cities and spend all of their time plotting and scheming, trying to please their spider god, Lloth. They know no love or compassion, they know only greed and evil. If they could, they would bring apon this world a never ending darkness so they could rise from their holes to kill or enslave every last creature on this world."

Listening carefully he scratches his head, causing the bells to ring a little more than normal. "So are you lost? Or going to enslave us?" He looks around at the others, wondering if they're all, except Tarmes, really slavers.

He'd been in that predicament before...

"No, I am not like them. First, I am only half Drow. My mother was taken as a slave." Zar'Da said, then grew quiet for a bit."I escaped their foul society. I am on a quest of knowledge now. I follow the great wyrms in search of power enough to go back someday and make them pay for the evil they have brought to this world."
And to my mother, he thinks to himself.

"Then which half?" Penville begins.
*Raawooof* Bigby interjects.
"Good point, I can see his hands and face so it must be his lower half." Penville surmises.
*Raawooof* Bigby interjects again.
"Oooooh that's what you meant, yes maybe that would make more sense" Penville states. Before looking tot eh figure again.

"So you have like a good and an evil side and they're fighting constantly inside you to get out? But at the moment the good side is winning, have you ever lost control to the bad side? I'm interested as this happens a lot in the wild see." He says, head tilted.

The blonde tomboy giggles quietly to herself while listening to the talk between Zar’Da and Penville. She walked near Thamol but kept her attention on the other two. Tarmes was quite interested in knowing about this half-drow in order to learn peace of mind around him...or find some reason he should be rejected and left behind.

Zar'Da couldn't help but let out a loud chuckle at Penville.
"I do not have a "good and bad" side as you put it, or at least no more than any of you have. I do not believe I  possess the want and need for evil deeds that my kin have. Thankfully they did not look too kindly on me so I was not indoctinated into their society. Although, I do not think i would have taken to it anyways, I have too much of my mother in me to let that happen."

"See, that's what I mean, your mother must be the good bit. So did you know both your parents? What were they like? I get the feeling they may not have been in love, unless they were and had to keep it a secret?" He taps his finger to his chin, trying to work out the world and finding himself failing.

"I did wonder if I had a bad side? But I think if I did Bigby would knock it out of me!" he says, trying to see similarities between them, "So if a drow is just being evil, then how can people tell? Or is it that you've a different sort of colour? I mean I've not seen many normal elves and humans which are as dark a skin as you. But I've seen pictures. Never seen a black halfling, dwarf or elf before, but seen pictures of gnomes and humans a lot" He wonders what else this being may tell him.

"Unfortunetly, the story of my mother and my "father" is not a nice one. The drow who is my father by blood raped my mother and I was born. I was looked apon as an abomination and was punished almost every day of my existance while living in the hell which is Menzobarrazen." Zar'Da said, and would have spat if his scarf was not up around his mouth.

Lexis listens quietly before interjecting. "That sounds like horrible childhood. I can't say I'm surprised from the stories I've heard of Drow. Don't they treat everyone like that? You could count it a blessing that you knew your mother though."

Thamol keeps quit.  This is clearly a suject he does not like.

"I never knew my mother" Penville says, staring at the passing ground.
Rawwoo Comes a reply from the shaggy form of Bigby.
"Well yes, I knew mum, but not my real mum. I mean I don't look a bit like a dog. So I don't think dogs can have halflings."
Waawwump Bigby adds.
"Yes I know, but I'm not sure I want a god as my real mother, I mean I'm just not sure if I believe that." Penville states, clearly answering a previous conversation.

Zar'Da looks quizically at the small halfling. It was indeed strange that he talked to a dog as if he understood it.

The half drow turned to Lexis and said,"It is indeed good that I knew my mother. She was the only light I had in that dark place, however short our time was together." he said with a hidden smile.

OOC: In interest of saving time, I'll assume that somehow you managed to get a few mounts and a wagon.  That seems to be the most popular choice, anyway.

After discussing a few prices with a few merchants and securing any adventuring needs along with some transportation, the small group left the town to search for the necromancer.  Unfortunately, Quansil was nowhere to be seen.  Both he and his injured warhorse had left, probably out to find the necromancer on his own as he had mentioned before.  The mounts and supplies gathered, the small group traveled to the sight of the attack.  Following the tracks, they split about a quarter mile from Ron's house.  One continued traveling south, while the other moved toward the southeast.  Zar'Da explained the necromancer and his original undead traveled to the more easter path, while those that rose from Ron's parents and the others that were killed fled to the south.

OOC: So, follow the necromancer, or follow the undead minions?  Let me know in your next few posts.

Zar'Da rode along quietly in the wagon, drawing his cloak close to try and stave off the cold. When they reached the sight at which the tracks split he tells of what he had seen.
"I believe we should follow the necromancer who seems to be the root of our problems."

"Do we have any interest in putting his minions to rest first?" Lexis asks quietly. "I also wonder why he sent them off in the first place."

"I always thought if you killed the necromancer then the skelletons and things fall asleep again? I mean I'm told it works with frogs. Summoned frogs. Not Undead frogs. I'm not sure which way they would be swayed to but I'd guess it's the undead bit over the frog bit. And has anyone ever seen an undead frog?" He says, plodding long and giving Bigby a rest.

Stretching as people decide he looks up to faces when they speak trying to follow lines of command and feeling that there seems to be none.

"We could go for necro yes and try to get him.  We could go for minors and try build up our skills and abilities before facing the necro.  I follow where Mundin Granitearmour goes.  He leading this group."

As usual Thamol make no real decision.

Mundin rubs his beard in thought as he listens in.  "Tha minions could cause some real damage if left unstopped.  Yet tha bloody necromancer will just raise more victims in the meantime.  I agree with Zar'Da in this, in order ta stop tha minions, we must first stop tha source of them, Neconlius."

"Lead on.

"Then that is where we shall go." Zar'Da said as he tightened his cloak about himself.

Following the remnants of the tracks left from the necromancer and whatever minions he decided to keep with him, the small group traveled forward with over half a day worth of traveling.  After a while, the tracks were lost, but the general direction was still apparant, directly south.

With perhaps two hours left in the day, the group came upon another small settlement, something akin to the one they left just that morning.  It would still be about half an hour before the sun began to show the earliest signs of setting, but for some reason there was a red glare coming from the city.  For those with keen sight, they could see a few flickering sparks - flames - on the taller buildings.

OOC: Well, just moving it along a bit.  Still, I'll allow a small grace period until January 10 to buy anything you might have forgotten about in the town.

For her part, Tarmes tried her best to be friendly with those she was traveling with, but she still managed to offend everyone at least once with something she said or did. Like Thamol, she also expressed no real opinion on their direction. Since she was new to the expedition, the young woman deferred to those who knew better than she could. As they traveled, Tarmes tried to learn the best way to survive in the icy wilderness and often pestered Thamol with questions that she yelled at him from her spot in the wagon until someone finally asked (or demanded) that she keep quiet.

During their first day of travel Tarmes found, to her very great surprise, that the cold winds of the North did not bother her in the slightest except when they blew her long hair in her face. The buxom blonde even found that she was comfortable without her winter coat, though she kept it on anyway. No point in tempting Auril, the Frostmaiden.

The company neared the next settlement and noticed the red glare. It puzzled her of course so she asked, ”Any of you made through this path before? What is the cause of the red glow? Some sort of magic?” She doubted her guess but Tarmes was hoping against the possibility of a fire.

Zar'Da spent most of the journey just observing his new companions. He had a hard time trusting fully new people but he would have to if he was to fight along this group. As they grew closer to the small settlement a flashback of images he had seen in Ronal's town came flooding back to him. He stood in the seat of the wagon letting his eyes adjust to the light of dusk.
"I am afraid that is no magic. Those are fires burning. We have got to get down there now." he said. Without waiting for a response he grabbed the reins of the horses and coaxed the beasts in the direction of the small town.

Being a very easy going halfling, one who is generally lost to the world and trying to find his way makes him friendly to any, innocent to the world and it seems Bigby protects him when it looks like he might make a silly mistake. Most of the time.

"Oooh a fire, it would be good to get warm again!" He says grinning and shaking Bigby's fur as they move.

Thamol clearly enjoys talking to Tarmes.  He does his best to explain what he know about the land and ice.  From this it clear Thamol is not native of area but has some great deep understanding of nature and is at home in this land.
It also clear that cold mean nothing to him at all.
Thamol does not take any notice of anybody telling him to stop talking to Tarmes and carries on explaining things.
Thamol however takes time to scout out and send his owl and wolf off the get idea of that ahead.

Following the drow-blood's lead, the group went down to the city.  As they neared the buildings, their guesses were confirmed as the fire raged around most of the buildings, bringing them down to the ground in only a few minutes.  There were no bodies on the ground, and it's as likely a raid from orcs or even another town as the necromancer.  In fact, the only sign that might put the necromancer anywhere near the town was a few bodies walking around toward the southern end of the town.  It might not be unusual - the survivors going to the outskirts to watch the city burn to the ground - but they all moved with a normal pace, despite the heat and danger of staying in the city, and moved a bit too stiffly for comfort.

OOC: Well, there are about 10-20 people walking toward the southern end of the town, the one opposite you.  Follow them through the burning town - which might not appeal to the mounts - or walk around it.

Zar'Da's fears were confirmed. Once again this foul wizard struck, destroying the lives of yet another town. This had to end and soon. The half-drow yanked the reins to have to horses skirt the town.
"This may not be the quickest way but I do not belive the animals would do well in the chaos of the town. Anyone with a faster mount might want to scout ahead!" he yelled over the roar of the burning village.

Thamol move his horse forward.  With his wolf with him.
"I look."

Thamol tries get better idea of what going on for group without putting himself in danger.


Roles
00:10, Today: Thamol Liadon rolled 13 using 1d20+10. Listen.
00:10, Today: Thamol Liadon rolled 29 using 1d20+10. Spot.

Lexis draws a dagger as she follows the slower group with the animals around the burning village. She looks side to side as they travel. "Careful, the village was torched not too long ago. The necromancer or other minions may still be about."

"Whatcha thinking Bigby? Think we can make it? Might be good to get a fast heads up and maybe help somone in there, like trapped people or children, unless they're all dead and forced into a servitude of undeath for the rest of their liv... ummm  beings?" He says regarding the fire and talking to the dog below who is also transfixed.


With a little whine at the sound of possible trapped children, Bigby moves forward, the fire seeming to not give as much fear as the rest of the mounts.

The sight of the fire mesmerized Tarmes as the wagon made its way around the outskirts of the village. She stared at the burning buildings and studied each one as they passed as though looking for something familiar. "Blood and bloody ashes," she cursed, "It looks like every single building is aflame! Where is the bucket line? Where are the people trying to save their houses?" The girl continues to peer intently into the flames.

OOC: Would this be a village, a town, or a city? How big is it?

Mundin, riding on his heavy warhorse, gaped in growing horror at the scene in front of him, as his face could no longer remain composed.  "Thamol!  See if there is something to tie the horses to that's away from the flames!  We'll need to search by foot at this point!"

Mundin then tries to scan the area to see if there is something else going on, trying to keep Fafnir from panicking at the flames.

Following the directions of their leader, Tarmes hops out of the wagon and begins leading the horses back a ways. "I will take our wagon back away from the flames and will catch up in a few moments. You all may go on ahead." Once she gets a safe distance back from the fire the girl will tie the reigns to a tree and run to catch up.

Thamol follow the dwarves direction and see if he can find something to tie the horses to that's away from the flames.

Zar'Da jumps down from the wagon and draws his sword. Seeing as they are no longer going to be riding the horses the half-drow decides to follow the halfling into the town to try and cut the trip a bit short and to help out if anyone is in need.
"I will follow our halfling friend and make sure he stays out of trouble."

"It might be a bad idea to seperate more than necessary." Lileth whispers quietly. She seems content to follow Mundin around for the time being, while still on the lookout for undead and other minions.

And so does Depiron. The usually talkative person had turned sullen and broody.

Pegging it off at 40ft move, the lead is easily on.
Flames all around. Dog and halfling senses attuned.
With a party behind them (okay quite a way behind them...)
The brave ones (foolish?) look for survivors!

Penville and Bigby rushes ahead through the street of the villege, while Zar'Da runs after the pair on foot.  Mundin and the rest of group retreats back a few dozens of yards away from the fire around a bend, hiding the spooked animals from the blazing fire of the villege.






-K
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:20, Fri 19 Jan 2007.

Trusting that the halfing and the half-drow know what they are doing, Tarmes trots around the outskirts of the village trying to see where the villagers have gone. "HELLO?! Anybody out there?!" She rushes ahead and constantly peers into the flames to see if there is anyone in there. Of course the young woman has not yet considered what she would do if she caught sight of someone.

03:26, Today: Tarmes Werthor rolled 20 using 1d20+3. Spot check.

OOC: Just reminding you that you do see some people, walking around normally towards the southern end of the town.

Also of note, they all seem to be totally oblivious to all of you.

-K
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:11, Fri 19 Jan 2007.

Thamol turns to Whitefeather.
"I need you to fly over the group of creature over their." The elf points to the group of humans.  "We need to know if they undead or unfriendly."
Thamol uses mental picture of zombies and great chasing him as idea of what the owl is looking for.

Penville tries to make sense of what he sees, and his next course of action. A swift look behind sees a drow running at him, weapons drawn, whilest being surrounded by a village on fire and the likelihood of zombie hoardes on fire all around.

It must be a tuesday.

On he strives with Bigby, slower a pace, but ready for action, weapons loosened. Sling falling low and loaded, a handful of pebbles to be ready to meet any before hi who would cause them harm.

The owl flies over the group of people to inspect, while Tarmes is going around to look for survivers from outside.  Penville and Bigby assesses the situation.

Tarmes does not find any sign of life inside the villege.  She does see some bodies, lying down still, some burning, looking quite dead.  Some of the bodies are in odd shape, as if there is no sniffness to the body, bend in quite odd angle or unnaturally flat.
OOC: By the way, can you (Tarmes, and anyone who joins her) tell me which side of villege you took?  You were all approaching the villege from south, so your choices to go around the villege to look from outside is west side or east side…


-K
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:15, Fri 19 Jan 2007.

OOC: Wait. Time out. I went back and re-read the thread (which I should have done before) and it says that we were following a trail that was leading south. I take that to mean we were coming from the north and traveling southward. Also,

DM Fido:

OOC: Well, there are about 10-20 people walking toward the southern end of the town, the one opposite you.  Follow them through the burning town - which might not appeal to the mounts - or walk around it.

If the people are going toward the south end of town and that side is opposite us then we are on the north side.

A map would be nice right about now. If no map is available I will go around which ever side of the village looks the least flammable.

BTW: should I have put this in the OOC thread?

---

Tarmes slows to a stop and peers at something in the fire. ”Hey Depiron, you are a healer yes? What sort of bloody magic fire burns out people’s bones before their skin?” The blonde pointed to the bodies bent up in odd shapes. ”Those people do not have any bones in ‘em! Look at the way they are flat and bent up. Bane take me if I am wrong.”

*scratch my head*  I'm trying to guestimate the size of this settlement.

It is infact true that you arrived from north side.  The fact that you can see the people on the south side makes it super tiny…tinier than I thought.  Using D&D rule, it makes the villege about 50 yards across or so…

OK, here's what I am going to do…

For the sake of what I'm trying to do where, I will enlarge the villege into the size I am working on.

Which means…you guys don't see the south side of the villege.  In fact, you see about 100 yards in and they are all burning houses and huts.  There appears to be more villege further than you can see.  Right now, you *don't* see Zar'Da, Penville or Bigby, (Anyone who was not involved in moving animals to safety lost them about 50 yards in) and it has been about a minute and a half since they went into the middle of the villege.

You guys don't see 10-20 people (Let's just say they are on the south side and you guys don't see'em).  You see a couple of wondering people slowly walking to the outskirts on the north side you guys are on.  Those are the ones Whitefeather is inspecting.

OK, carry on…


-K

Moving on, the sights and sounds of the underground... or the fiery death and burny death, drive the unmasked, masked duo onwards. To new encounters and mayhaps a little interest in love? Unless they're zombies.

Thamol turns to other.  His face has look of discuss on it.
"The creature that are moving are not normal.  Whitefeather did not tell me but feel these maybe undead.  They move wrong.  We need get everybody together and deal with these creature."

Sorry about bad spelling I have limited computer access at moment.

Lexis follows near the rear of the group, watching mostly behind them and to the sides. "This seems like the ideal place for an ambush. The smoke is making it difficult to see very far. I wish the others had not charged in so fast. We need to stick together if we are to save anyone here."

Zar'Da moved through the village trying hard to keep up with the little one and his canine mount. The heat was oppresive, causing him to drop the hood and scarf he used to hide his heritage. He huffed and puffed as he moved through the burning village, sweat running down his brow.

Mundin yells as loud as he can to Tarmes, "Lass!  Lass!  We shouldn't spread out!  Let's go through the middle!", agreeing with Lexis.  "Those wondering people might be undead, but they are simply ignoring us and wondering around.  If they are real people, they are safe away from the fire.  Let's gather and chase those who went in already.", the dwarf makes the hand gesture to gather around.



-K

Penville sees the people in need and his head tries to work out how to defeat so many combatants. Seeing them run for the imposing visage he represent, he wonders if mayhaps he is related to them? That being his first impulse.

Bigby however is charging in.

This results in the fact Penville follows, even if he's technically leading. The cruel twist of fate swapping the owner of master and mount. That's what you get for being friends with ya horsey... or dog.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:45, Mon 22 Jan 2007.

The half-drow stops and tries to catch his breath. He hears Mundin yelling and decides he agrees with the sturdy fellow.
"Come friends, I am here! I have lost sight of the little one!" he yells back to his companions.

Penville and Bigby assesses the situation…


-K

OOC: The group hears Zar'Da, while Bigby and Penville hears his voice, but not the meaning, by the way.  They can tell it's Zar'Da, and they can tell it's coming from behind.

-K

Thamol stick with the dwarf,  He has his owl whitefeather and wolf ruff with him.  He watches the wolf reaction as he know she does not like the smell of undead.  His horse he keeps with the other horses.  She know to stay went he asks.

Tarmes skids to a halt and turns to see Mundin waving her back. She rolls her eyes and turns to jog back and, ”Chase them into the fire?! Had you too many mugs of ale last night Mundin? Still suffering a lack of good bleeding judgment?” But despite her protests, Tarmes runs to follow the rest of them in. ”What are we doing in here aside from trying to avoid getting cooked alive?”

Surging forward the forms of Penville and Bigby come to the aid of those before them. They are lost in the smoke, but a high shrilled voice can be heard amongst burning a smokiness:

"Ahoy, help be required but lady, fear not! Penville the..." he goes quiet obviously trying to find a fitting word "...halfiing? Is on the way!"
*Raaauuuf*
"AND Bigby the wonderdog!"

Penville and Bigby ponders more option…

-K

Lexis gives Tarmes a stare for a minute. "We should be fine as long as we stick together. There's space between the buildings. Just don't wander off into the smoke. Who knows what the necromancer might have left lurking around here."

"Yes, lass, plus I just heard Zar'Da yellin' at us.  At least he can navigate inside., Mundin adds.

-K

Penville acts. His body and mind become sharp as a ninja.
None can see him, he is a master of he winds, the fire, the EARTH!
(And if anyone COULD see him, it would all go wrong)

Jumping off Bigby his voice can slightly be heard with the odd words above the fire: "Attack.... fire....take this....oww....woman!"

And contrary to poular belief, he is not drunk.

The group starts to move through the main street of the villege, while the halfling and dog chases looters away...




-K

OOC: Seeing as how we're not trying to be sneaky and don't really need someone to scout ahead in this situation, I'm fine with the DM suggested marching order.

"Animated skeletons? You boys are serious about this undead necromancer stuff then? Shades!" The sound of two daggers was almost lost in the crackle of flames as Tarmes armed herself. "Right then. Let us find 'em and kill 'em. Er...kill 'em again that is. We can not let 'em roam the streets and join the evil guy." She kept herself alert and looking all about for any movement.

OOC: I happy with the order.  Ruff would be beside Thamol.  Thamol has his sling ready.

"Keep close and wait for anything to come to us."
It clear the druid does not like what happened and creatures that been created at all.

Not one to usually work with others Zar'Da was torn between continuing on or waiting for the main portion of the group. He decided to eer on the side of caution and wait.
"I am here! Hurry so we may catch up with the small one! He may have rushed into something he is not ready to face alone!" he yelled hoping his voice would lead them to him.

Jumping down Penville slowly pulls the body of the woman atop Bigby. Whilst difficult, Bigby can move slowly. Meanwhile Penville moves up, grabs the still breathing yet unconcious goblin and starts to drag him out, Bigby leading the way burdened and Penville and the goblin following.

The others will run off, but he had a prisoner and saved a girl. A pretty tidy rescue mission all in all!

Zar’Da’s voice up ahead spurred Tarmes to move a little faster and she was strongly tempted to dart ahead of the rest of them. The only thing that stopped her was the fact that one can’t sneak past a fire. If there were bad guys or wild animals ahead she would have crept past them but a fire will burn you no matter how quietly you move. ”Well go go! Move faster you longbeards! Penville might have got himself on fire by now.” The tomboy actually sounded concerned for the welfare of that strange halfling and his dog.

"OK lass, you are right.  We should catch up to the halfling and the dog as soon as we can.", with Tarmes prodding Mundin he decides to start running...as fast as the stubby dwarven legs can take him, along with Depiron.  After 15 seconds or so, which felt a lot longer than it actually is, you see the Zar'Da waiting, with his hood off.  Obviously the heat is making him take his covers off with sweat running down his forehead.  The halfling and the dog isn't here, and you can't see or hear him, nor any sign of survivers so far.  Only the occasial husks of human flesh and burning houses.  "Lad, do you know where the lil'un and his dog are?", Mundin asks Zar'Da.


-K

Lexis follows at the rear of the group. She spends more time watching behind the group than where they are going, trusting Mundin not to lead them astray.

"We better be careful," Depiron spoke up for the first time in a long while. "It looks like we might be having undead on our hands."

"I would have to agree with our dwarven friend. There do not seem to be enough dead laying about to fill all these houses." the half-drow proclaimed as he stood there sweltering."I do suggest we move on and quickly before I broil to death inside my armor. I dressed for the cold not this heat. The halfing should be somewhat near.
Withough waiting Zar'Da began moving on once again.

Tarmes still looked as comfortable now as she had been on the trip thus far. A plume of smoke blew in her face causing her a small coughing fit, but otherwise the blonde made ignoring the heat look effortless. She moved ahead as soon as those in front of her made space. "Onward then! That Bigby could carry Penville a long way by now. Let us hope the runt is still within earshot." Cupping her hands to her mouth, Tarmes called out ahead, "PENVILLE! PEEENNNVILLLLE!"

"PENVILLE! PEEENNNVILLLLE!", Penville and Bigby hears a female voice coming from behind.  Sounds possibly Tarmes, and she sounds like not too far behind, but still pretty hard to hear.

-K

Whilst sitting down and rubbing his head was the best chance for a bright idea to come, the impending fire and likihood of undead swarms (or Aleeean abduction, if you believed the bards in the 'Mad hatters' guild), either didn't swell him with warm ideas.

Hearing a woamn cry, Penville is about to jump into frantic action. Until even his keen mind realises that if a lady in peril knows his name, she might not be in peril and they might just be looking for him? Anyways, he could come back for her!

Again, Penville and Bigby ponders the situation…


-K

Now Tarmes and Zar'Da leading the group ahead of the dwarves, withi 30 seconds they spot the halfling and the dog and soon notice they are not alone.  Those two are joined by a human female, and a goblin male, both of whom appear unconscious from the distance.  Penville is trying to put the unconscious human woman on the back of Bigby, and it looks a bit tricky balancing act.

As the group approaches the leading pair, you note that the woman is medium and sturdily built, with simple farmer's clothes, her nails short and dirt in her nail, hair bunned up, looks like just got back from work.  She has slight bruises and burns, but no apparent blood or major injury you can see.

The goblin, lying face down on the ground, has a big bump on the back of his head and is wearing wolf's hide perfect for winter travel in this region.

You also see some sacks and scattered goods around, apparently dragged out of one of the hut.  Nothing very valuable, but valuable enough for new settlement who just had the first harvest.  Sacks of wheat, potato, beans, etcs, this year's bounty, and next year's seed for new crops.

-K

Zar'Da breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the halfling was fine. As they moved closer he saw the scene laid out before them and acted. He quickly threw off his pack and removed a length of rope. He then moved to the goblin and bound the small creature for questioning later.
"It would seem you are a hero this day my little friend." he said to Penville as he bound the goblin.

Penville, glad to see the others, lets one of them deal with the goblin and women. Poor Bigby trying his best but the larger being isn't easy for the dog to carry.

Pointing the opposite way, "There were another two, no three, no two, I think two goblins that went that way. Got one but thought I'd best leave the others in hope of getting the women without a fight. Though he might be good to question as he doesn't seem to fit the idea of the necromancer. I mean he's not a goblin zombie is he? I think he said Oww and zombies don't do that do they? Well come on what are you all standing around for? Lets get out this fire, other than these two I've not seen anyone else!" He says swinging the sling with pride, yet also to ensure it's still fuctional as he looks around.

Jumping on top of Bigby, he is ready to take the lead again, albeit closer to the group, whilst they drag the bodies out.

Tarmes nodded in a satisfied way and slapped Penville roughly on the back, ”Good work short-stuff. You kept yourself from getting dead and you even left a couple for the rest of us.” She chuckled and then moved back to follow behind Zar’da. ”What is the plan now Mundin? Are we really gonna go looking for skeletons to kill...or whatever you do to thinks that should already be dead?” One again the blonde began looking left and right for any signs of anything interesting.

17:37, Today: Tarmes Werthor rolled 16 using 1d20+3. Spot check.

Lexis puts her daggers away and grabs several of the larger sacks. She carries as much as she can with out slowing down past the dwarves. "We should save their supplies in case there are other survivors. It's bad luck to let food go to waste. We can always use it if there aren't any survivors."

Thamol move over to girl.  He is kind and gental.  He looks the girl over to see if she alright.

Tarmes looks around and look for anything unusual, but aside from the two unconscious bodies and a couple of sacks full of farmer's possesion, only thing she sees are what she's found so far.  Occasional human husks and burning huts.

OOC: So, whichever way you all decides to go, give me some idea of marching order and who's holding who (human body, goblin body, and a couple of sacks weighting 50 pound contents each.

-K

OOC Notes: I'll carry a sack. Since we're not likely to run into any traps in a burning village, I will be fine toward the rear of the party. Don't forget we have a wagon and horses to go back for.

After tieing up the small creature Zar'Da readjusts his hood and scarf so they cover his face once again. He turns to the two dwarves and says,"Could one of you two carry this little bag of filth. I will be more than happy to take point and get us out of here before we fry."

With that the half-drow turns and begins moving in the same direction they have been moving along in.

OOC:I will take point until we get out of the fire.

Moving alongside the drow evil-being-of-doom (who seemd quite nice actually for an evil-being-of-doom) Penville takes point as well, ready to alert those behind or clear the way ahead.

With no real notion of the quickest way out, going onwards seemed the best, to find the goblins and any others they'd taken, or just other survivors.  "Are you any good at questioning people then? Or do you think one of the others would? I heard some dwarves eat goblins, so it might not be a good idea to let them do it." He says with a serious face, looking ahead and sling ready, battle axe in the other hand with a fistful of stones.

(OOC: Bigby moves 40ft so I'm a good scout)

Thamol will take up rear.  With his armor and fighting ability he be good protecting the group from behind.  With ruff sent as well.

Zar'Da looked down at Penville astride his dog-mount, his eyes squinting slightly.
"I could question the goblin. My appearance afords me a certain...leverage when dealing with evil creatures. I might be able to drag something out of him once we are safe."

The group starts moving towards the other side of the town.  For a little while, you all still see no other sign of life.  But within 15 seconds, you see you are approaching the southern end of the town, and shortly after that a cart right in the middle of the street at the end of the town apparently blocking the way.  You don't see anything else, but cart appears to be fully loaded with who knows what.  Penville, Bigby and Thamol spot the cart first, and it's about 90 yards away when those three spot the cart.

OOC: for now, I'm assuming Bigby is carrying the woman and Penville, Mundin and Depiron is holding the goblin, and Lexis and Tarmes are carrying the sacks.  Zar'Da is taking the point, Penville and Bigby next, then dwarves + gobbo, then two rogues, and Thamol is taking the rear with Ruff.  Let me know if that order sounds fine.

-K

Penville slowly moves under the extra weight, Penville walking alongside and keeping a hand on the body to stop her slipping or falling. "As this is the only way to go, we can assume the goblins came this way, or are about to ambush us" Penville says stating the obvious for most people.

OOC Whats the jump check to get up onto the cart?

Zar'Da moved along carefully, the feeling of an ambush creeping over him even before Penville had mentioned it. He continued on watching the burning buildings and the cart with much interest.

OOC: A few things...

The goblins did indeed run this way...
Technically speaking, one could run through in between the burning huts and houses to the side direction, but you probably don't recommend it unless you are really fast or somehow not hurt by being vicinity of the fire...
Let's say from this distance you measure the cart is large (occupies 10'x10' square) and 4ft high (loaded with some crap you can see from this distance, but not sure what they are).  Assuming you get running start (must have 20' movement before you attempt running start jump), that'd be DC 16 jump to get 4' high, on top of some crap.

-K

Do you want me to send Whitefeather to have look to see if anybody is behind the cart?

"That would be a good idea that way we are not surprised."

Lexis cautiously approaches the cart with the others. Her eyes dart back and forth looking for any sign of goblins or undead as she sways a little under the weight of the supplies. Still, Lexis is ready to drop the sacks she is carrying and fight should the enemy show their face.

Tarmes whispered to the group, ”I have been in an ambush or two. I would wager any ugly, stinking, filthy goblins trying to set up an ambush already know we are here, Thamol. Make sure your bird does not get an arrow through his skull if he flies over there.” Tarmes looked at the space between the buildings. ”Penville, think you and four-legs there can get through that gap and circle around behind the fugly goblins?”

Thamol send Whitefeather off to see if he can spot goblins.

The owl flies up and soon it's hard to see it against the darkening sky with all the nearby light from the fire.

-K

Thamol turns to others.
"It seems the little green things are waiting for us"

The blonde nods and considers the information that Whitefeather has verified. ”You were right short-stuff,” she says to Penville, ”the ones who got away did set up an ambush for us. Bloody green cretins.” A wicked grin forms on her full lips. ”More bloody after we get done with ‘em. Right Thamol? I say we go give ‘em some new bodily openinings."

Dropping the sack and checking her daggers, Tarmes gets ready for a battle. "I am not much for jumping into the middle of things in a fight.” She casually tosses a dagger in the air, letting it flip twice, and catches it again. ”I would rather just throw things at ‘em.”

"I feel that we need to remove these creartures form the village.  Does anybody have plan?

OOC:
1) Can I see them enought to get magic missile off?
2) PM

No one except Whitefeather who flew to get closer to inspect has actually seen any goblin yet, and at the moment, you are 90 yards (270 feet) away from the cart, so assuming goblins are around the carts, you are nowhere near close enough for magic missiles' range, not to mention you can't cast the spell if you don't see the target.


-K

PM

You hear nearby building creak slightly, and then its roof collapses immediately after.  It was one of the larger structures of this villege, and couldn't support its weight with weakened structure from the fire.  It might have been a place of worship, but hard to say without actually going inside...


-K

"It would seem we don't have much of a choice no matter what. We can not stay in the town as it burns down around us and we need to go forward, unless we want to try and go back the way we came and circle around. That would take a bit and they might catch on and leave. I do not want to let a band of goblins wander about the countryside to do this again. We know they are there so their element of surprise is gone. I say we go to greet these creature head on." the half-drow says, his grip on his sword and shield tightening.

"That makes two of us. Lets go cut 'em to pieces." Tarmes looks ready to run over and handle the whole thing by herself.

"I can jump over on Bigby and give them something to think about!" He grins. Patting Bigby who is staring at the exact dynamics of the situations, where to spring fro, to and the angle of elevation for the perfect attack.

Penville grins in a dopey fashion.

"Mundin, Penville, and Zar'Da seem to be the best armored. Perhaps you should go in first. Tarmes, Depiron, Thamol, and myself can hang back a bit and maybe even flank the enemy." Lexis suggests as she sets her own sacks down and stretches preparing for combat.

The group moves ahead slowly, prepared for the ambush.  You close to 50 yards away from the cart, where you think you think the ambush happens if you are any closer.  You still don't see goblins yet.

OOC: So, Lexis dropped the sacks...shall I assume the unconscious bodies and the other sack was left behind for the impending combat?  Also, Thamol, do you want Whitefeather back with you, or have him up above the goblins? 

Legend:
CT: Cart, which is large (occupies 10'x10') and 4' tall
~~: Burning Building Walls.  If you go in the square any time, you will take 1d6 fire damage, and possibility of catching fire.  If you are 5' away from it at the beginning of your turn, you will take 1d6 non-lethal fire damage (Meaning, you can move through the squares 5' away from those fire without taking damage as long as you don't end your movement there)
++: Trees, gives cover to those inside the square
Pn: Penville and Bigby
ZD: Zar'Da
Md: Mundin
Dp: Depiron
Tm: Tarmes
Lx: Lexis
Th: Thamol
Ru: Ruff



-K

Thamol calls his owl back.  He knows how much the bird hates the cold so only sends him out for a little time.

"I agree. We are better equipt to take the brunt of the fighting. I have a few...abilities granted to me by my Bronze mistress. If you stay within a few feet  of me then these will be granted to you also." Zar'Da says as he begins to get a bit antsy.

OOC:All companions within 30' of me are granted whatever Draconic Aura I possess at the time.

"Right, I can get over the top with Bigby, but it means leaving the unconcious lass and gobbo here, and that's not good, we need at least one person to make sure they're alright, or unconcious." He says, kicking the goblin and listening for any groans of conciousness. "That should keep him out a litle longer. Now I was going to question him, but if we're ging to get attacked by the rest, how about we charge and overpower them, they are only goblins after all." He eyes the others, it seems in the face over overwhelmingly good odds, this little guy can actually pretend to have a backbone.

"Let us stop talking and get this over with. If these goblis started this fire then they need to pay, and pay they shall!" Zar'Da said, his bloodlust beginning to get the best of him. Without another word he begins to advance on the cart.

Watching him go forward in bloodlust Penville turns to exchange a worried glance at the others, whispering: "So if these dark elves ARE so bad, might he turn on us halfway through the...?" However Bigby by this point was roaring ahead, the thought of little mites like Penville being tormented, tortured or burned, driving him on.

If a charge action can be taken, will charge over the top of the cart, otherwise will stop atop it and let Penvilel take a shot (if allowed) with his sling.

Thamol will keep an eye on goblin and girl.

Approaching the cart, Bigby with his keen sense first notices a wolf behind the cart, then Zar'Da.  In fact, Bigby notices a goblin on the wolf, plus several other goblins amongst the tree by the cart and another goblin by the wolfrider.  They already see you approaching, and the ones amongst the trees readies their slingshots...

OOC: The monsters rolled very well on initiative... they go at init 21. :p
20:37, Today: Dm Kremti rolled 21 using 1d20+1. Initiative.
Go ahead and roll initiative, and start kicking their butt :D



Legend:
CT = Cart, which is large (occupies 10'x10') and 4' tall
~~ Burning Building Walls.  If you go in the square any time, you will take 1d6 fire damage, and possibility of catching fire.  If you are 5' away from it at the beginning of your turn, you will take 1d6 non-lethal fire damage (Meaning, you can move through the squares 5' away from those fire without taking damage as long as you don't end your movement there)
GW Goblin mounted on a wolf
G1 Goblin
G2-5 Goblins behind trees
Pn Penville and Bigby
ZD Zar'Da
Md Mundin
Dp Depiron
Tm Tarmes
Lx Lexis
Th Thamol and Whitefeather
Ru Ruff