The next morning you all wake up in your beds alone to the overwhelming smell of sizzling bacon, fresh bread and other things one might expect for breakfast including Ale.

The day is bright, people buzz about and there are so many things to do before setting off or is there.

In reply to Narrator (msg # 1):

I wake up, do some stretching and cardio. I then get dressed, get my armor and stuff ready and have Krista and Jenine (the names of my whips) at my side and ready.  I head down to the pub and see who is around and what the scuttlebutt of the day is.

As you enter the sitting area you see the barmaid that was enamored with you she giggles leans over to one of the other barmaids and whispers into her ear as she points in your direction. She then waves a hand in front of her nose as if clearing away a noxious smell. Another barmaid makes her way over to you and asks, "What'll you have hun?"

In reply to Narrator (msg # 3):

I just walk out of the pub.

Gwen helps herself to a strong black coffee with a shot a brandy and two biscuits piled with bacon. She's wiping greasy crumbs from her mouth with the back of her hand when Lyndian emerges. She greets him with a wink and a nod and follows him out, waving to the others if she can spot them among the morning traffic.

"What do you think, Sir Minstrel? Maybe we should head to the stables, the caravan yards, or maybe even as far as the gates to see what news there is from the road? I'm not even sure whether Harlond will provide mounts for us, so maybe a visit to him is in order. On the other hand, this place seems pretty far from anywhere... maybe we'd best provision ourselves, not just for the journey, but for a long stay in the middle of nowhere..."

Imbert appears in the common room just in time to see the bard and gnome depart.  He follows them and calls out a question.

"Headed to the market?"

In reply to Imbert Keenbinder (msg # 6):

I take a moment to take in the air. To feel the breeze on my face and soak in the beauty of this day. I make mental notes to write upon on all of the days splendor. I take good look around looking for anything that provides me with inspiration.  I also take a good look around to see if I see anything out of the ordinary before I am able to give a proper answer to Gwen.
[Perception: 13+0=13

As the group steps into the street from the Owl's Head Tavern where they stayed the previous night they hear a shout coming from down the street. They turn their heads toward the rising sun and see a train of dwarven porters, conspicuous in their brilliant red leather jerkins and blue-dyed brewer's aprons, winds through the street. Each of the stout men carries a wooden ale cask on his shoulder, painted in a red and blue check pattern. The eldest dwarf calls out the name of the brewery to drum up interest. The chant of “Ten Keg Mountain ale” resounds through the street.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:23, Tue 24 Mar 2020.

In reply to Narrator (msg # 8):

I pull out my Lute and join in loudly with in the song.
[Performance: 14+6+2(lute prof)=22]

Bandalor emerges from his room late in the morning.  The hours he stayed to drink and listen to the bard precluded his catching his colleagues before they departed.

Small matter.  He would see them at dinner.  As he did every morning, he stretched and offered alms to the rising sun.  Of late, recurring dreams intruded in his sleep.  Not the usual dreams of the failed crusade, but darker dreams, of a defiled altar surrounded by greenskins.  Bandalor shook this off as too much Berduskan on too empty a stomach.

He quickly looked over his road pack, ensuring his possessions were not molested during what was likely an overly sound sleep.  All appeared in order, and there was no indication the pouch he secured to his ankle nightly was moved by anything other than his nightmare flailing.

Gathering his things, Bandalor strolled into the common room to fight the sour stomach with a large breakfast and set to see if anyone in Neverwinter had a line on the whereabouts of an old companion…

[OOC] Sleeping in, I may have missed the pack.  Regardless, going to eat, and then hit the market to ensure my road pack is road ready.  If I made it in time, I eat quicker than I would like to catch up.

As two of the adventurers watch the third play his instrument and sing about Ale's their fourth companion bursts from the Owl's Head with bacon hanging from his lips and an cup of Ale in his hand. He exhales in excitement as he lays eyes on his now companions.

Bandalor hurries to catch up.  Surveying the mix of destruction and activity, keeping his eyes open for threats, or any open signage of obviously evil aligned organizations.

“Well, if nothing else Gundren and Sildar’ve got us headed south tomorrow.  Anyone have word of the road from here to Leilon?  I’m more than less ready, but probably worth poking around and seeing if there’s any recent caravans already run that route.”  Wiping the last morsel of bacon from the corner of his lip, he falls into stride.

“I haven’t seen any spires for the waking lord…  please let me know if you see something I don’t.  Also, may want to run by Gundren and Sildar’s to inspect their rig.  I don’t want to head south with anything that will fall apart the first time we have to break off the road to defend ourselves.”

"I think a cask of ale might need to make the trip out to Phandalin with us," Gwen says, watching the dwarves with a grin. "But I agree with the sun priest... we should start with a visit to Harlond. I know we're not due 'til tomorrow, but I want to know how big this supply caravan is and how experienced the drivers are if we're supposed to be its security, and whether we need to purchase our own mounts for this outing. I'm sure we'll be able to meet some other teamsters and gather information about the conditions on the road to the south."

[OoC: Ready to head to wherever this caravan is being assembled.]

As you make your way through the streets of Neverwinter there are signs of repair everywhere. Tavern's, homes, shops and places of worship are being renovated and restored. Much of this is due to Lord Neverember's influence. He sees Neverwinter as being the metropolis it once was and people have started to flock to the city in droves to start business or simply to be among those that are civil.

You find yourself at last in the River District which is more or less the designated Merchant area. Everywhere are signs of construction and the re-establishment of order to some degree. However you do notice that livestock do wander the streets as people have free ranged their animals in the city proper as nothing has stopped them thus far.

At last you stand in front of Harlond's supplies, grains and more. The large side door is open with a small wagon being loaded with supplies. A not so healthy looking human with a greenish tint to his skin and wisps of thin hair hanging from his head climbs down and approaches you. "Ho there," He says to your group, "Harold I am, and thats my man Patsy," gesturing to the form of a half-elf carrying a barrel of something toward the wagon. "By the looks of you your Gundrens folks. A bit early aren't ye supplies aren't ready yet," He flatly states. Then just stares at you with a blank look on his face.

I try to observe if his health is anything I could address with care or magic.

  Speaking with concern, Bandalor offers:  “Well met, Harold. We’re indeed Gundren’s folk.  You look unwell…  is there anything the favor of the Morninglord could do to improve your constitution?”

[OOC] Unsure what appropriate rolls may be required, but genuinely concerned if Harold is ill and needs assistance.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:41, Wed 25 Mar 2020.

In reply to Bandolous Armonthor (msg # 15):

Noting his pallor and his hair loss you think he indeed suffers from something. Perhaps poor hygiene, poor diet or perhaps disease of some some sort. He however seems somewhat healthy.

13:42, Today: Bandolous Armonthor rolled 18 using 1d20+3.  WIS Medicine skill check.

Imbert shrugs and looks around.

Harold looks at Bandalor and says, "Ye pulling me leg? I be healthy as a horse." He then turns and bursts into a coughing fit then clears his throat and says, "So what can I be doing for you all? Supply wagon and nag will be ready tomorrow. Figure it will take you a few days travel to get to Phandalin I figure."

In reply to Narrator (msg # 19):

"I am in need of coconuts, some catgut strings (for my stringed instruments), a small hallowed out glass tube that will fit over my ring finger, and a pipe and tabacco"

Then I play Gmajor9 chord on my lute