With every window and exit barred and covered, it would only be from the cracks and leaks from poor construction that would tell you the sun had arisen.

Frederick arises after almost exactly 8 hours of sleep. He rouses Dinen Dal, who slept fat and happy after ridding the Inn of some of its vermin. Frederick dressed and ran thru his mental check, satisfied everything was restored.  Then he makes his way down to the main room, where he gets a plate of whatever they have for breakfast. He takes a seat at a general table and surveys the room.  Dinen curls up on the table beside his plate and sighs deeply, obviously offended at being awakened so early.

Hawkmoon arrives a minute or so after Frederick, sitting with him and ordering the breakfast of the day as well.  He really doesn't care what it is as long as it is food, hot and tasty is a plus.

"A better morning than others so far, Sire Frederick."

Frederick smiles and greet his companion as he comes in.  He responds to Hawkmoon in a light-hearted tone.

A truer statement has not been spoken Sire Hawkmoon. To sleep in a bed and wake to hot food is a pleasure taken far too lightly. I must admit to doing just that when in between adventures though.

Dinen rouses himself just enough to look at Hawkmoon's plate.  Seeing nothing interesting he snuggles back in.

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 1):

Boris completed his morning ablutions and, once dressed, said a few prayers.

He made his way down. "Good morning, my friends. Let's make our report to the Captain, yes?"

In reply to Boris Underhill (msg # 5):

Awake a little later than the rest.
Stoney, whose armor was neatly strewn  all over the floor, starts to gather it.  He stripped it off himself in a drunken stupor last night. He thoroughly checks the straps, and material to ensure it wont fail during battle.
On his knees, he grabs his wineskin for a quick drink, then says some prayers.  Prayers to multiple gods, and Gods, and deities, none he is so certain at this stage in his life are the real or best one.
After his prayers, he dresses himself, and goes to the bar to refill all of his wineskins, and canteens.
Seeing some of the others.
"Good morning, how did yo all sleep?"

The Inn was full of sailors and townsfolk of all sorts, but some overnighters were clearly different from the others. One such man slept on the floor of the Inn, covered in his black cloak and using his backpack as a pillow. With the rousing of the masses he rises and shakes the dirt from his outerwear. His tattered officer's tunic is recognizable to any who have spent time in or near the King's military. So is his bastard sword.

His long black hair gets a quick comb before the man fits his pack and cloak into place and approaches the bar. The maid offers whisky but he waves it off. She slides a tankard of water to him and he drains it.

Wiping his mouth with his sleeve he says, "Now that's a good mornin'." He smiles at the barmaid and shifts his stance, choosing not to sit at the bar. "Tell me, if ya please, were there any reports of attacks during the night?"

Ondrea partook in another bath before dressing and descending into the tap room. She ate whatever breakfast was being served and greeted her companions. "Yes a good idea I am sure the Captain is eager for what we have to say."

She broke a crust of bread and dipped it into her bowl.

-

Frederick watches the soldier at the bar.  Its easy to tell a trained fighter by their movements and the way they survey a room looking for exits and enemies. The man had not been in the inn when he retired the night before, so was a late arrival. And asking about attacks he must know the area somewhat. Finally he looks to Ondrea as she responds to Boris. Then he speaks.

I don't believe either Hawkmoon or myself have met this Captain.  And I'm also nto sure that David has either.  Who is this man?

A slumber filled with dreams, or rather images of dreams. or was it that the dreams hid the face of that what lies beneath it. Always on the knives edge. Still, as his eyes opened David felt more rested then he had been in the previous few days. Sleeping on the ground. Or even on a soft patch of it. covered by a blanket did hardly satisfy a man's needs to rest.

Getting ready David once fully awakened made his way downstairs, seeing his companions already at the table. Smiling sweetly he casually waved as he made his way. Carefully to keep his sharp visage aside from a few early birds from the town. Not knowing how well vistani, or even halfbreeds would be received. Certainly with no heroic deeds to prove their intend the mood could swing either way.

"A good morning to all. I see on all your faces the beds have done their job. Innkeeper a bread and something light to drink. Preferably something that smooths the throat clear of the evening"

Once the breakfast was presented Davids eyes roll across all eyes, at least one stood up as a sore thumb. Whispering as he tears of a chunk of bread "That one, ... is no local." (Sharps) pointing rather obviously towards the man. Not hiding it

The fare is both filling and tasty, despite being simple standards such as fresh baked bread items and simple stews (eggs of course!).

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 11):

Devouring the food placed in front of him.
"No matter where I eat, eggs always seem to be tasty.  Some seasoning, no seasoning, even times I seasoned them with soil from the ground.  I dont think you can mess up eggs!"
wiping his mouth clean and washing the eggs down with some wine.
"I mean no disrespect, simply that I love eggs!  My compliments to the chef!!"'

In reply to Frederick (msg # 9):

"We met him briefly as we returned through the gate. He was the one who initially charged us with going into the forest to stop the attacks on the village."


-

PM

Milling about, you spy the first soul to walk towards the heavily barred door.

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 15):

Boris said grace, began eating. He enjoyed himself.

When the man walked towards the door he didn't stop but watched in idle curiosity as he ate.

The knight eats heartily, and as much as is available.  He will even ask about seconds.  Compared to the last few days, this place was the height of luxury.

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 15):

Boris addressed the man walking to the heavily-barred door. He seemed to recall they needed to make a report to the captain of the guard.

"Excuse me, good fellow. Are you by chance a local here?"

Sharps pauses at the door, then turns to face the halfling. "No sailor am I, good sir, but I believe you saw that. Just like I noticed that your group is foreign to this place, too."

He shifts from foot to foot. "Now I'm going to take a big piss, have a pipe and a look-see to figger what may have happened during the overnight. You and yours are welcome to join me, once you've broken your fast." He throws back the bar on the door. "I'll be at the old apothecary's place, if you can't find me wanderin' 'round."

Unless there is compelling conversation he throws open the door, pauses a moment to adjust his eyes to the light, then strides through- provided there is nothing treacherous waiting on the porch.

In reply to Sharps (msg # 19):

BOris nodded. "Aye, we have some business to attend to but I should like to share a pipe and a wineskin when we are done. Old Apothecary? I'll see you there."

This would be the same apothecary your group visited when you first arrived; the murder scene :)

Frederick takes a swallow to wash some food down then speaks.

And what, if I may be so bold to ask, is your capacity that you look for trouble and search murder scenes? Not to pry but if you have official capacity perhaps you can offer help to us.