The morning saw Blue resting his boot on the corner of a common room table.  He was nursing a tankard as though it contained ale instead of juice, more for comfort than to slake his thirst at this point. "I dun fair'a wee better I dun.  Theninagain, I dun hornswaggle inna meh fete I dun."  He admitted in the barely comprehensible version of speech that almost sounded like he'd made a habit of following languages into dark alleys, beat them senseless, and helped himself to their loose phrases.

At his avian companion's screech, Blue let his foot slide off the edge of the table and set the tankard down in its place.  He sent an inquisitive glance at the creature, and did that thing he did.

Joser had not gone to bed right away upon getting a room at the Morninglory Inn.  Instead, being in a bustling city, he had decided to go looking for a bit of extra coin.  Any city of this size is bound to have an underground fight venue or two.  Luckily, with his knowledge of the urban underbelly, and a tiny amount of word spread by travelling spectators, he would soon find a fight club.  A bit of bare-knuckle action would be just what the apothacary ordered for him.
When he walks into the common room for breakfast in the morning, Softfeather and Blue can see that Joser has a couple of already-yellowing bruises he did not have the night before.  He sits down at the table and orders breakfast and ale as soon as a server arrives.  I at least broke even, he says to his two travelling companions.

Pjofr's snapped his head in the direction of the elf. Clacking his beak agitatedly he stared pointedly and repeated the muffled shriek.

His feathers standing off his body in some primal reaction, Softfeather turned his attention back to his food and his tankard of ale.

Blue glanced at the kenku for a moment, as though puzzling out the creature's concerns.  "'Im theren's thinkin thatn'about hauntn' scream."  Blue offered.  He glanced back at Softfeather.  "'Nuffin'at un'oly keenin'.  Suren'll do's a looksie.  We'z just looksie-loo forn' scallywag n'is trio o'lasses, onin' within locks like darkest night"

With the reminder from Softfeather, Blue scanned the tavern for the coterie he'd seen in his dreams.

Having been up late at the inn relaxing and drinking to relieve some of the stress from the eventful voyage, he was a bit late making it downstairs for breakfast. Stopping the serving girl as he came downstairs he ordered a small breakfast before joining the ladies. "Good morning ladies. I slept a bit late this morning. Have I missed anything or any news?"

Pjofr cocked his head to one side and stared at his nearly incoherent companion. Then abruptly, the Kenku's head scanned the room in a series of short, quick moments. The common room looked like any other they had been in; locals either starting or ending their day as well as obvious people from "not here" grouped together around the room. With his eye staring at one such group across the room Softfeather opened his beak and poured some more ale into it.

OOC: Yes, he's starting at your table.

Hardly one for tact, Blue jerked his thumb over his shoulder after he turned from the dark-skinned warrior back to his table.  "That'n be the scallywag'n 'is dames we be lookin for'r I'mma tailed imp's arse!"  He alerts his companions, grinning.  In moments, the pirate was on his feet with his fruit juice nearly sloshing out of his tankard.

Bold as brass, Blue strode over and simply seated himself with Bran and his crew, flashing an impressively pearly grin at the coterie.  "I dun see ye's in ma' dreams I good'n done I did.  There be's a haunt after that'n there."  He gave by way of explanation.  His accent was thick and fairly unintelligible, though his grin spoke clear enough, as did his circling finger that settled on the raven haired woman.  "This'n lass's gotten good which that howlin' soul seeks she dun'.  Bes' nottalet ole' spook sieze'r prize.  Not me onna aid'a spoom, no's I'mma not."

“Hello,” Basilisa greeted them, looking the trio over with a smirk. “I wondered when you would stop skulking over there.” Her eyebrow arched, she tried to make sense of Blue’s impenetrable accent.

The dark beauty let out a good-natured chuckle that sounded to the ear like velvet felt against skin. Basilisa looked at his companions. “Um, could one of you translate? I don’t believe I’ve any spells prepared to comprehend that accent!” She smiled playfully at Blue, not trying to be mean-spirited, just lost on half of what the man said.

Joser chuckles as he walks up.  I'm no' very goodt at it either, an' I've been travelin' wit' him a bit.  I think he jus' called ye the woman o' his dreams.  He glances at the pirate, then back at the woman.  Or, maybe, the woman from his dreams.  Either could be accurate.
I'm Joser, though, in tha fightin' circles, I am makin' a name for m'self as The Demolisher.  He indicates Blue and Softfeather each in turn.  T'is Blue Velowet, and tha's tha one we call Softfeather.  He don' speak Common, and we canna unnerstand wha' his squawks.

Setting down her now empty drink cup Cinnabar looks skeptically at the unfamiliar arrival at their table for the briefest of moments before ignoring them entirely to reply to Basilisa's question.

”I am afraid I only speak the common human language, and am unable to help you with that translation.”,
This message was last edited by the player at 16:48, Sat 29 Jan 2022.

"Whereas, I would be the woman of your nightmares, indeed."

In reply to Kel'li (msg # 27):

Basilisa exchanged a quick glance with Kel’li before learning toward the men. “Oh, but what nightmares,” Basilisa said with a salacious grin. “But please, Blue! Tell me more about my starring role in your dreams.”

She motioned him to sit, but then held up her hand to halt him. “Just give me some original material. The last time I heard that pickup line was from a cross-eyed Half-Orc with the worst body odor.” She wrinkled her nose at the distasteful memory.

Joser chuckles at the comments of both the drow and the human women.  Knowing he is not a handsome man, thanks to the scars, the oft broken nose, and the cauliflower ears from his many fights in and out of the arena, he decides to speak the thought that enters his head anyway.
M'lady, he says to the drow sorceroress, thanks ta yiu, I now wish I could have nightmares again.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:12, Sat 29 Jan 2022.

"That can be arrange, good sir, but I don't really think you would like the results."  Kel'li gave an evil grin.

Joser gives a bit of a grin, hinting at the maniac smile he has used many times to unnerve his opponents in , and out, of the ring.  M'lady, I was jus' a wee orphaned gu'ersnipe tryin' ta survive on the streets o' Dockside in Wa'erdeep, he explains.  Wha' I saw an' experienced wit' me eyes open quickly put dreamin' o' me parents deaths ta shame. All me nightmares were real.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:31, Sat 29 Jan 2022.

She sat back and said, "Then, to give you a nightmare now might be more than you deserve, so we will let the matter lie."

Blue tilted his hat to one side with his tankard and set it down, somewhat of a confused look on his face.  "Wha' be wrong wit' me' bleedin' words?"  He asked, one eyebrow creeping steadily up his brow.  His confusion seemed to grow as the assorted table seemed to discuss dreams and nightmares.

"Nay, lasses'n scallys; that'therin feckin' haunt.  Wailin' spirit.  Murderin' gheist."  The pirate tried to clarify, rephrasing the same idea a few times and hoping that it'd stick.  "Spirit be ona course set true keen wit' 'er assa guidin' star."  Once again, his thumb jammed in Basilisa's direction.

"Obviously he went to one of the finer schools to learn such eloquence.  It rolls off his tongue like sweet nectar, or maybe cold tree sap."

Not one to engage easily in idle banter Cinnabar once again skips forward to something that might be more useful.

”I doubt discussions of education or dreams will get us very far, if either of you speak the language of the others that will be helpful, otherwise we will need to count on some form of pantomime, which isn't a good way to start a conversation.  In any case it would be nice to know why these three have intruded upon our breakfast.”

To Kel'li, Joser responds, Nightmare oft' come unbidden, whether deserved or not.
He turns to Basalisa and Cinnabar.  'E's been goin' on about some vision 'e's had since Softfeather an' I met 'im.  He nods his head to indicate the Bold one.  It has somethin' ta do wit' an' a ghost or spirit usin' ya like a beacon, from what I've gathered.  It's either comin' after ya or comin' to ya. An' it the friendly type, neither, M'ladies.

Blue rolled his eyes, and muttered something out under his breath that could very well have been a curse borrowed from, say, trolls.  Gray eyes swept over Cinnabar and Kel'il and settled on Basilisa.
After a brief pause, Blue rapped his knuckles on the table and started to rise.  "Oi, Jose, Crow; clean'a sun inna clear doldrum them's such's we be lika boil onna cur's whatszit we be.  Let'em facedowna ole' haunt 'lone ifin 'ey keena.  Reckona like t'see that'n spiffy swordn' class hexer toe-off 'ona 'ungry wailin' specter."  He slowly stood, swiping his tankard from where he left it and lingering a moment to see if anyone preferred to halt him.

Kel'li says something unintelligible and it suddenly goes dark, to the point where even dark vision ceases to function.

Cast: Darkness

More words, and slight hand movements, which you can't see, but might sense, and suddenly, 4 lights come flying towards Blue's head, coalescing into a fairly humanoid shape, but dancing around him, just out of reach.

Cast: Dancing Lights

Kel'li says, "Sit down, and hold your tongue.  It isn't that you might be invited to join us, but rudeness will not be tolerated."

Just as suddenly, the lights were gone, and sight was returned, but, for a moment, a fluffy bunny floated in the air in front of Blue.

Cast: Minor Illusion
This message was last edited by the player at 05:43, Mon 31 Jan 2022.

Basilisa remained oddly quiet when Blue stared into her eyes. For several heartbeats, she stared back, her eyes half-lidded. Then, she blinked, and then Kel’li wielded the innate Magic of Drow and Sorceress alike. Darkness enveloped their table like a lover’s silken embrace.

When light returned, Basilisa held up a hand at her friend’s rebuke. “Enough, my friend. You’ve made your point, and he brought valuable information about a new threat against us.” She motioned the men to sit. “Though it seems a new threat because of a burden fast growing old. I am not keen on facing a Banshee or whatever spectral wretch that Blue foresaw without an extra sword or spell at my side.”

Rather than jump at the obvious showmanship of the drow Cinnabar waits patiently for the darkness to go away, at which point she lets Basilisa finish her thought before asking for more insight into it.

”For those of us that only speak the one language, would you mind explaining how this is new information and not just an obvious reference to the thing that traveld on the ship?”

Cinnabar May well have connected the foreseen menace with the “package” in her possession. Basilisa slightly cocked her to the side as she considered what Cinnabar brought up. “Hmm. A fair point. The ‘wailing’ that Blue described invoked an image of a Banshee, but would one pursue an object with such single-mindedness? Their obsession is usually people and places.”

She gestured at Blue. “Well? Do you remember anything else about this spirit that haunts your dreams and my trail?”