Welcome welcome please come in and warm your bones by the fire. Greet each other as comrades in arms as that is what you certainly will be. You find yourselves at the Wayside Inn, which lays just South of the TriBoar Trail that runs East from the High Road, with others on their way North to Neverwinter as Lord Neverember has put out a call for those willing to join his banner.



A thick fog has settled in around the inn and he evening has started to grow into night.

A woman sits in the corner at a lone table, poring over records and watching the business. She says, "Can I get you something to eat and drink perhaps? Think it best you stay here the night. Might be hard to travel in this fog"
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:30, Tue 07 July 2020.

A young dwarf steps up to the bar. Dressed in old leathers that smell vulgarly like old fish, but that may well be the fish bones in his beard.

"I'll have any Dwarven ale you may have lass"

A young elf enters the 'establishment' and looks around with utter disdain.  She looks at the woman in the corner, to the dwarf and back to the woman.  Then sighs heavily.

"Some bread, I think would likely be the least objectionable fare you could be expected to provide.  My thanks."  She says brightly while seating herself at the bar a reasonable distance from the dwarf.  She carefully leans her spear up against the bar.  After a few moments of visible straining to not converse, she turns to the dwarf and says in Dwarven.  "Odd weather we seem to be having.  How lucky are we that this rustic establishment was open and accepts patronage of those that smell of fish, in addition to civilized persons like myself.  Where are my manners, Gaelin Morfir, pleased to make your unkempt acquaintance."  She sits on the bar-stool with hands pressed together waiting eagerly for any response.

An older human walks in and thanks the lady for the food and water. He takes it to a chair near the fire and says a quick prayer as he holds his amulet. He quietly finishes his meal and enjoys the calm of the fire.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:34, Tue 07 July 2020.

The woman sees that all of your food and beverage needs are taken care of and then settles back into the corner and begins to pour over her books. You cant tell if she is excited about the months revenue or displeased.

In walks a male elf with dark hair and olive skin, wearing exotic-looking clothes that make it clear he's traveled a long way. He looks around the tavern bright-eyed, awestruck by the sights and sounds of the scene. "The human world will never cease to amaze me," he says happily to himself, though loud enough to be heard by several patrons near the entrance.

He finds himself an empty chair, not caring if it's next to someone who wants his company or not, and starts to people-watch, lost in his thoughts.

A middle-aged gnome walks into the bar with welder's goggles atop his head and screwdrivers and other tools sticking out of various pockets. He sits down at the bar, asks for a drink and surveys the room, casting a disappointing eye at the human palming his amulet in the corner.

The woman hops up from her books and quickly grabs more drink and food. She looks around and says, "I doubt we will have anymore joining us this evening given the hour and our local. More travelers these days than usual but I doubt more could be out there in this fog. What all has you on the High Road these days anyway?"