In reply to Black Angus (msg # 240):

"Buttur te be safe thun surry. Take de heads n receiven ur tribut." Marille shoke her head at skinning the bear. Safety was more important to her than risking reinforcements attacking. In the dead of night.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:21, Sun 07 June 2020.

Lead the way back Petar, No one has the skill to skin the beast yet, I'll learn though!"

Marille grabbed the human wizard in a bear hug and said, "Me bettun ye wull wun't ye?" Not realizing her strength. The hug lifter Angus off the ground and he might have felt a little discomfort in the mighty woman's grasp. "Ane tinun o wha we may be duin affer in we gut paid?"

"The sheltered place we seek is back in Emberdell," said Aila.  "I do not wish to wait for darkness to fall out here."

"Yes indeed, let's go, go, go," Petar urged, looking closely at a goblin arrow before deciding to take a few or not.  They had bounties to collect and books to read, supper at the inn, and all of them needed a bath, whether they knew it, or not!

Once they were back in a proper march order, the elf tried to relax, but he could not.  His head throbbed now that the battle tension was gone, replaced by fatique and a queasy feeling whenever he looked at the sacks on Rosey, now completed soaked in red.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:48, Sun 07 June 2020.

Taking up her place in line, Aila was glad that she was well forward of the heads.  It had been one thing altogether to speak of it in the abstract, the reality had revealed things that disturbed her about some companions.

Still, it was important to learn, and she found herself drawn to look to Phelan.  "What do you like to do after a fight?" asked Aila.  "I think I'm going to be springing for a bath when we get back to town."

"Anyone want that single edged sword? If not, I want it. I'll learn to wield it as well as tan hides of the beasts I kill."

The musclebound woman shook her head. In her head Marille thought to herself, A goblin sword probably didn't have much worth. They didn't have the art of crafting like dwarven blacksmiths. Or elven blacksmiths as well with there special crafting style.

Phelan agreed that heading back was the best decision. She didn't like the idea of sleeping in the wild with sacks full of heads.

In reply to GM

OOC - a saber you said? nice quality?

"I am not interested in such," said Aila with a raised eyebrow as she considered the bloodthirsty mage.

Having retrieved her staff, she was ready to make the return to the safe confines of Emberdell--and a bath and some time for meditation.

Yes, a saber. Of workable quality. It will need some maintenance to return to good quality.

Now, sabers are not part of the weapons that mages can normally use. However, I don't believe in the logic that some weapons are just not "usable" by classes, but Weapon Mastery rules do have a provision for this sort of situation: you can certainly wield it, but it only does half damage, rounded down. In addition, and this I am adding a secondary house rule, your Thac0 is based on only half your level.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:50, Wed 10 June 2020.

With everyone in agreement to spend the night in town, you packed your "trophies" and headed back through the fields.

Returning to town was relatively uneventful. You ran into a small group of wolves, four of them, who followed you for a short distance, sometimes approaching then giving distance again. The smell of the sacks was becoming stronger, and the blood was leaving a grisly trail of red behind you, which, although it became fainter as the blood left, was still a strong draw for the wolves' keen sense of smell.

However, all that came to an end as you approached Emberdell, and the first guards with torches greeted your approach. The wolves didn't dare get closer, as there were now too many of you, and there were plenty of fires nearby.

You started off to visit Master Garrel, only to be informed by the guards at the round that he had closed shop for the day. You were then invited to return tomorrow morning, as he was here in the early part of any day, but usually finished his days in the later afternoon.

So you return to the Sleeping Owl, where Larissa greets you again, showing a measure of surprise as you enter through the establishment's door. The other patrons fall silent as you shuffle into the common room, and their eyes grow big in wonder as you drag the sack in with you.

"Lo'k at w'at th' cat dr'gged in! Go'd ta see ya, lads, lasses! Food and drink?"

Doromas, sitting at the same table, looks up at you and smiles a pleased, satisfied smile. He nods to all of you as you come in.

You notice that Doromas' eyes meet Camille's. She shakes her head and looks away. Doromas nods in understanding.

"We may fare better tomorrow Camille, all hope is not lost yet." Angus tells the cleric patting her on the back, "Keep your faith."

"Yes Marille, food and drink, a tall glass of cold ale and some ham and cheese for me please."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:01, Wed 10 June 2020.

Marille rubbed her grubby hands then asked Doromas, "Me needs te geh cleaned up. Ah nuce wurm buith. Gut dis gublunkun boud uff uf me."

In reply to Marille Ughari (msg # 259):

"By the gods Marille I think I love you! I NEED a bath too! Goblin and orc blood are disgusting! With all of my brains, they were short circuited, hold the ham until I'm clean, then I'll have a steak instead!" He did down the cold ale though! "I'm second, after Marille with the tub!"
This message was last updated by the player at 15:24, Thu 18 June 2020.

The muscular warrior flashed a smile, "Luv ith a strung wuurd. But ye bu tu sthmull fur me tustes." With a pinch of his cheek Marille heads towards a nice warm bath to wash away the filth from her massive proportions.

"I believe we'll all be wanting a bath before eating much of anything," said Aila.  "Is there some place where that might be managed without waiting one after the other?"

She recalled some of the things that she had read from others' writings of their times of travel from the cloister--places which held bathhouses, some of which were as much a bawdy house as a place for getting clean, some which were a place for getting clean and also places for the most interesting sort of discussions, and she rather hoped that the latter might be available somewhere in this town, and not merely a tub that would simply accrue more filth until the last might as well not bother at all.

You ran into a small group of wolves, four of them, who followed you for a short distance, sometimes approaching then giving distance again.

Blood attracted these predators and Petar was anxious, his predilection for fantasy leaving him wondering if these wolves were goblin pets somehow and they were counting there numbers and eager to report to their masters.  The elf was tired, and felt like every rock was a goblin, every crow a stirge and saw fire beetles where there were sheep.  Getting back to the safety of a settlement spurred him on even as his feet dragged and head drooped.

***

Doromas, sitting at the same table, looks up at you and smiles a pleased, satisfied smile. He nods to all of you as you come in.

Petar gives the master wizard a tired smile in return.  He wants nothing more than an hour alone in his room to get our of armour and wash .. so he does just that.

"Is there some place where that might be managed without waiting one after the other?"

"Each sleeping room will have a tub, the only thing you have to wait for is hot water, unless you want it cold," Petar explains.  He was sure Aila had been raised by wolves, but of course he would never say something so rude!

Actions
Rent room, wash and change, then read book before returning to the common area

Angus laughed quite loudly, a deep belly laugh! He headed for his room and a bath!
This message was last edited by the player at 12:29, Thu 11 June 2020.

Aila shuddered at the thought of a cold bath.  She much preferred the bath house moving from room to room to complete the process, but made the arrangements to get some hot water for her bath and heading to her room to bathe.

Larissa heard everyone's requests, but she shook her head. With a slightly apologetic explanation, she told you that there were only two tubs available at the Sleeping Owl right now. You would have to use them in pairs.

After getting things ready, she invited you to sit down and eat first, since it would take time to heat enough water to fill them. She brought back what was available at the kitchen this night: mutton and ale, fresh water, if needed, and freshly cut fruit. She also invited you to take that bloody sack outside, as it was stinking up the tavern.

As you sat down at the same table you used the day before, a pair of the regular patrons, two men by the names of Sowen and Olagh, stood up and asked to join you. They wanted to hear how your day was, and how you managed to come back practically unhurt AND with a trove of heads.

You would have to use them in pairs.

With a grin Petar wondered how that was going to work.  He wan't quite as blood-spattered as the front-line head-takers, so he volunteers to go last.  He did want to escape upstairs and get out of the armour and read that book.  He takes a few steps in that direction ...

She also invited you to take that bloody sack outside, as it was stinking up the tavern.

And steps back to the party ...

Since the stinking sack was also representative of quite a lot of gold, Petar says quietly for his fellow bounty-collectors: "It can't be left unguarded.  Outside in the dark is a bad idea .. someone's room?  I can't imagine anyone stealing it but why take the risk."

... two men by the names of Sowen and Olagh, stood up and asked to join you. They wanted to hear how your day was, and how you managed to come back practically unhurt AND with a trove of heads.

"Hard work won the day, by might and magic," is all Petar says.  Normally he would love to tell them the story, but right now he's tired, hungry, dirty and pre-occupied, so he lets someone else fill in the locals.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:57, Fri 12 June 2020.

Marille looked at Larissa with a lifted eyebrow. "Larissa bufur ye leeve gut me a booket. An sum wuter, ull me need ith uh stuble."

The muscular woman had nothing to speak with the two men about. There was one thing on her mind, but she couldn't remember what...

Given that you have to wait for the water to heat, Larissa helps Marille out in the stable and gets her a bucket of water, as she requested. She provides the first bucket of hot water, so that the warrior woman would not freeze in the stables by herself. She also brings a towel and large block of soap.

Back at the tavern, the water is heating up while everyone is talking, eating and drinking.

Sowen, the more talkative of the two, speaks.

"I've not been outside of my workshop in years. My father used to want to teach me to handle the sword...," he peers at Petar, who has a solid weapon by his waist, "... but I was never any good at it." He laughed. "He would say, 'Sowinik, how are you going to fight the dragons if you don't know how to use a good sword? Are you going to run? Are you going to hide?' But I showed him. I've done good for myself here. I have my own shop, I am my own master." He smiled a proud smile. "Besides, everyone knows dragons don't exist." He laughed at his own comment, and sent an encouraging elbow to his partner sitting next to him, who joined him in the mirth, although a bit awkwardly.

"But you... there's been many like you here before. 'Adventurers', they said, brave, curious, looking for gold, or glory. But only a few returned. Many died out there. And here you are, back in one day, all of you. I am beginning to think you really are adventurers. Tell us, did you find them sleeping? Did you fight from a hill? Did you kill them all with arrows?"

Sowen looks at the sack.

"What is that? Twenty heads? It's a big pile. You were outnumbered...", you can tell he's doing mental gymnastics in his head, "... FIVE to one at the least. You must be really good to have made such a fight into a victory."

Then, leaning forward conspiratorially, he lowers his voice, looks around him to see no one else is watching, and asks, "Can you show us where we can find some, too? A bounty or two like that and I could move my shop to the Haven. Maybe find me a nice wife."

At the mention of a wife, Olagh laughs out loud from behind his drink. "Aye, I could use one, too."

Sowen turns to look at him, and smiles broadly. "Wives, one for you and one for me! Yes?"

They smash their wooden tankards together, cheering, "To wives!", and drink them empty.

Marille thanked the keeper Larissa as she brought her soap and water to bathe in. The goblin blood had long since dried in on her body and hands, but with vigorous intent. The bulky woman scrubbed the filth off of her. She did have a few moments to contemplate what she had done earlier. Sure she grew up on a farm and butchered meat, culled lame live stock. But she had never chopped a humanoid before.

"It had to be my blood being up? This is my life now."  Marille dried herself off and found some thatch to sit upon as she curdled into a ball. Her armor was still bloody, but there was nothing to be done about till morning. She passed the time taking a whetstone to her blade. Before she had the resolve to head back into the tavern.