Act 3 Scene 1: Arrivals and Leavetakings

[TristenC]

Merrick translates easily for the newcomers to obtain individual rooms. One by one, the group retires for the evening...

=====
room is 5 sp, ale is 5cp


Typically I do xp for people at the end of a game day when the character has time to reflect, unless not much happened that day. Since newcomers have only recently made the transition and the previous PCs have been around a bit there will be a bit of a disparity in this one update to reflect that, but I felt would be a good way to get everyone on the same schedule (I’ll do Pyros separately but soon).

I typically aim for a balance of xp rewards between Dungeoneering, plot/puzzles and RP, so I try to reward things that are consistent with the characters as they are established. IF you feel like there is anything I have missed that bears further consideration, or want to give a little more initial background so that the motivations are clear (this can be done OOC during play as well) then please bring it to my attention. So, without further ado…

[XP Time] (alphabetically )

Individual XP:


Delsenora Hun’ana [Tarlyn] Female Drow (apparent Human) Rogue (6)
[Current 20,000 xp]
“Slipping away…”: 100 xp (Transition to Ravenloft, trading verbal barbs w/ the Assassin, powder trick, escaping the Assassins)
Misc RP: 50 xp (chats w/ Mira, w/ Elsa, tea and poison, With Cross and Merrick about getting home, )
“Not too shy”: 100 xp (Enjoying the music, Chats with Mira about music during performance, with others about dancing and Songs, revealing her ‘secret’, backstory)
Subtotal: 250 (+10% for Dex) = 275
Total: 20,275 xp (40,000 TNL)


Esker Manyblades [Revenant] Male Human Ranger (Myrmidon kit) (5)
[Current 20,000 xp]
“The Wolf Within”: 125 xp (Transition to Ravenloft, participating in the ritual, long held rage at his brother, losing himself a little in the fight, sacrificing the shaman at fault.)
“Stalkers in the Mist”: 50 (RP hunting down their initial target, personal motivation undercurrents)
Misc RP: 75 (Meeting the party at the inn, short interactions, ‘distracting terrain’, banter with Iscind, interest in wolves)
Total: 20,250 (36,000 TNL)

Gregor Malevin [Gregor] Male Human Rogue (Burglar kit) (6)
[Current 20,000 xp]
“Dangerous streets”: 100 xp (Transition to Ravenloft, trading verbal barbs with Old Master Sige, facing off with Sige, trying to prevent killing Sige,
“Not Born Yesterday”: 75 (caution on the streets, skepticism at being suddenly ‘elsewhere’, hiding wounds, keeping his trials ‘close to the vest’, practical
Misc RP: 75 xp (Banter w/ Mira, Elsa, a little comfort “Ale and stew”, buying a drink for Elsa, meeting others, )
Subtotal: 250 (+10% for Dex) = 275
Total: 20,275 xp (40,000 TNL)



Iscind Aranya [Darithe] Female Human Ranger (Myrmidon kit) (5)
[Current 20,000 xp]
“One of the Pack”: 125 xp (Transition to Ravenloft, participating in the ritual, saving Aunt Freyda, sacrificing the Shaman to save Esker)
“Stalkers in the Mist”: 50 (RP hunting down their initial target, personal motivation undercurrents)
Misc RP: 75 (Meeting the party at the inn, short interactions, signs of the all-father, banter with Esker, sparring offer accepted)
Total: 20,250 (36,000 TNL)


Jerry [Chris1234] Female Half-Elf Cleric/Mage (Dweomerkeeper) (5/3) Undead Slayer kit
[Current 13,152/9,688 xp]
CLW: 400 xp (Cleric Only)(on Karl 2x, Pytor, on Gregor )
Regenerate Light Wounds: 100 xp (Cleric only)(on Merrick)
Discussions: 75 xp (about the nature of bardic vs wizardly magic, about poison and herbalism)
Misc Rp: 50 xp (sad to see the others go, repeat focus on new spellbook, Deals with Imer and Chales, offer of healing)
“The other half (elf)”: 30 xp (purr, source of self comfort, checking dribbling)
Breakdown: General 155 (player split) + (500/0)
Total: 13,652/9,688 +155 general (player split) xp (20,000/10,000 TNL)


Sir Karl Mordrane Sularia Male Human Fighter (5) Cavalier Kit
[Current 24,331 xp]
“A Knight's Best Friend”: 50 xp (attending Bayard, offering his use to the small folk for faster travel, checking on him)
Misc RP: 50 xp (With Elsa about her faith, w/ mira, w/newcomers, sparring offer)
It is not dead...”: 50 xp (Chivalry: concern Mira going first at farmhouse, tired but honor-bound to protect the ladies, several mentions)
“The Road Home”: 30 (Meeting with Akriel, suspicion at the surroundings, other comments)
Subtotal: 180 (+10% high str) = 198xp
Total: xp 24,529 (32,000 TNL)


Mira [Jenara] Female Human Bard (6)
[Current 25,349 xp]
Armor spell: 50 xp (on Tarlyn)
“All that Glitters…” 286 xp (Bard 1xp/gp: 285.7sp gp equiv for her share of sold loot, )
Discussions: 50 xp (Art and the Gypsy siblings leaving, about the nature of bardic vs wizardly magic)
Misc Rp: 60 xp (protecting Tarlyn w/Armor spell, Advice for Tarlyn, w/Coraline, w/Sabrina, innuendo w/ S, helping w/ poison)
“Through the Fog…”: 50 (Greeting each of the newcomers, discussions with Del, banter)
Performance (minor): 50 xp (Bard Reputation upkeep)
“The Road Home”: 50 (Meeting with Akriel, finding out what is next, furthering the plot, insisting on a map)
Subtotal: 596 xp
Total: 25,945 xp (40,000 TNL)

[TristenC]

One by one the erstwhile strangers settled in, the plaster walls of the inn providing some meager shelter from the night for weary bodies… if not weary minds and souls…


===
Gregor skulked through the damp streets, the shadows clinging close like a cloak. Self defense… he kept repeating in his mind, which seemed strung tight like a trip-wire. That old bastard had pushed the matter too far, and he had long ago given up bending backwards for the hypocritical old curmudgeon. And of course that stale sack of offal had made it his final point in life to do his level-best to inconvenience his former apprentice… Pausing in a narrow alley, Gregor listened cautiously to the subtle sounds in the darkness. Though the old man had been with someone just before their encounter, he’d heard no additional step pursuing him in the dark after… After…

Gregor once again tries to urge the old man to retreat but the grizzled locksmith snarls and snaps at him like a man possessed… or inebriated and enraged beyond reasonable thought. Sige dives at him again, but quick feet and reflexes keep the younger man out of range as his sword slashes again across the old man's body.

Staggering and clutching at his chest, Sige glares at the rogue. His dagger clatters to the stone and thick blood bubbles over his lips... never... stop... huntin'... ye... Eyes blood shot to the point of taking a yellowish tinge almost seem to glow in the night with pure, unfettered hatred.

The man drops to the stone with a thick crumpling noise. Soon the only sound remaining in the cold, misty street is the ragged breath of the survivor and the thrum-thrum of Gregor's pulse drumming in ears.

The visions of the night before… or had it been longer? The weary mind made mincemeat of recent memory. Shaking off the recurrence, the rogue stealthily made his way deeper into the alley. There had been an inn here somewhere… somewhere to get out of the night and establish something like an alibi…

A doleful moan rose in the dark somewhere behind… rrrooOOOaahh… Sparing a glance back, a strange and mis-shapen form moved to fill the alleyway behind him. The shambling figure shouldered heavily against one wall, arms doing nothing to keep from scraping against the hard plaster; though it’s face dragged heedlessly on the hard, flaking surface. The brow rose, and eyes like orange coals burned as they fell upon him. Staggering away, Gregor clambered over the tumbled refuse of the alley as the figure pursued. The lambent glow from that gaze reflected from the now-bloodied plaster to illuminate the visage of his stalker… A horrid gash skittered across the face of the old man, and something that had once been human now glared balefully through the dark from the mutilated mask of old man Sige’s face…

ggrrreeGOORRaahh… it shouted again into the night… stalking… relentless… even in death…
---

Gregor wakes in his room, covered in cold sweat despite the chill in the air. His neck and shoulder seem to pester him with tight muscles… the same side over which he first glimpsed, though seemingly only in a dream, the stygian essence of that hateful gaze…


===
Delsenora’s booted heels tapped across the damp cobbles in a staccato clack, clack, clack as she strode confidently through the night. A new threat had reared its head, but fore-warned was fore-armed, and now the enemy had lost the element of surprise. As if it were so easy… the increasingly familiar voice said from several paces behind, practically divining her thoughts. Turning her head, Del saw her stalker… Fuchsia -dyed hair framed the ashen face and elven features of the bitch that claimed to have killed her mother…

A wicked grin crossed that sinister face and the rustle of cloth behind her announced the presence of the two other lackeys. What? Surprised?? the assassin called, mockingly. I’m a world-class killer, f5<k-head. You didn’t think I could circumnavigate an alley?!?! Subtle sounds began to circle Del as she sensed the other Zhentarim move to cut off any escape.

Abruptly in the night an agonized cry arose from somewhere nearby…
ggrrOOAAhh…
Reacting almost infinitesimally, the assassin’s gaze flinched towards the noise for an instant, and the only daughter of Jacob Hun’ana took her chance. Sprinting towards a nearby alley she strained with all of her agility to employ the narrow exit, but the cold slip of steel sliding into her back disrupted escape. Practically instantly she felt the notorious numbing sensation of the Drow’s tailored toxins enter her system. Pain flared and flourished like a wildfire in her bones as the short sword scraped across her ribs as it withdrew; newly blossoming agony erupted as the tip plunged once again into her side…

Moist lips brushed against her ear as the paralyzing affect began to take hold. Aww.. sweetie… we’re just getting started…

---
Del wakes with a start, eyes snapping open to the daylight straining to reach through the heavy wooden shutters of the inn. Struggling to move, a tingling sensation encompasses all of her limbs. Several minutes of concentration and calming breaths eventually restore her mobility… Whether lingering effects of the poison or good old-fashioned sleep-paralysis were to blame she could not tell… but for now at least, she had regained her faculties…


===
Cross sat in the back of the inn, enjoying the music that his red-headed friend coaxed from the strings of her lute. A golden haired woman swayed beside the bard, adding her own harmony to the melodious strains. A wriggling at his side indicated a restlessness he hadn’t dealt with in several days. Across the inn, Fenrir perched atop a rack of cloaks near the door; grooming and fretting with the ebony features that made up his cloak of feathery midnight. Pssst!! the one-eyed knife at his waist persisted as it writhed in the sheath. Hey!... Hey kid! I think the bird-brain is onto something…

Glancing back at the stately Raven, the white-haired elf observed his familiar more closely. Fenrir rustled his feathers in an unsettled fashion and began to pick and pluck at the shutters nearby; as if trying to peer out into the night… or escape. Rising, Cross moves to his avian companion and carefully strokes the silken feathers to calm him. Danger. The sensation travels through the bond with urgency. Very near… it persists. Keeping a hand along the corvid’s back, he prevents the earnest familiar from following as he steps into the night.

Elven eyes adjust almost instantly to the darkness as his hand settles on the hilt of his dagger. A stifled chuckle rises from nearby, growing gradually into a crescendo of cruel full-blown laughter. I can’t believe it… Cross?!! The figure of a pale elven woman, clad in an impressive cascade of knives, moves into his view. It’s really impossible, isn’t it?! she says, incredulously. Ugh… I looked sooo hard for you after you fled the circus… but wow you’ve been gone for years!!! she laughs aloud. I just… well you are honestly the last person I thought I’d bump into here… she says, congenially.

But you know how Loriana is… she balances a knife tip-down on the edge of her finger, And you know I always see a job through, once I’m paid… suddenly a flurry of blades streaks out of the night towards the mage as he snatches Gar from his sheath.
HAHAHAhahahah, ohmym#$%^# F$^n6 GODS, kid!! AAAhahah, she’s FANTASTIC!!! Did you see the way she handled those daggers!!! Gar all but shouts as Cross tries to shove his way back into the inn…

An outline of knives surrounds the elf as he fumbles with the handle, almost like some distorted carnival act. Drawing forth a short sword dripping with viscous ichor, his former companion’s eyes gleam with a menacing sheen. Aww.. sweetie… we’re just getting started…
---

Cross flops from the bed onto the hard wooden floor of the inn, scrambling away from the door… After a moment or two he realizes the door is not only soundly latched, but the single wide portal to his room and not the swinging double doors of the entrance to the Broken Wheel. Casting his gaze about, he finds a lump in the nearby bed that could only be Pyros, and no dangers nearby aside from the bare blade of his dagger on the floor mere inches from his face… Scrambling to his knees, Cross finds himself out of danger… and the echoes of maniacal laughter fading from his mind…


===
Iscind stalked cautiously through the fog… a figure tracked near her through the mists, and by the shape and movement it must be her shield-brother… Though they had weathered many trials together, sometimes she still had difficulty knowing his mind… It seemed, at times, he gave himself too deeply to the beast within… the wolf… Though there was security in the pack and boldness and freedom in the oneness with nature, it became apparent that occasionally some fever in the blood called him towards frenzy…

The silhouette in the mists nearby turned its head towards her, almost as if reading her thoughts. Her foot dug into the grass beneath her feet, twisting to set her stance as she instinctually prepared for a threat from any side… The pulse of her heart beat in her ears with an almost deafening thrum… thrum… thrum… Slowly the figure turned away from her, pulling up the furred cloak and hunching forward to obfuscate its shape against the anticipation of their prey…

Dangerous prey… more dangerous perhaps even than they were, but… but the threat… Hesitating for only a breath Iscind struggled to recall precisely what they were stalking… or even why… Their task… their task was set and they must see it through, only… had they picked up the right trail? She had found little but bent grass and the occasional smudge of blood. Though both she and Esker were accomplished trackers in their own right; it seemed difficult to piece together an accurate picture of their prey from the signs so far.

The figure motioned for a halt and she paused beside it. Turning towards her, the fine hairs of a beard brushed against her cheek. Rather than a confiding whisper, her companion grunted roughly as if clearing his throat. The grunt turned to a low growl of… was it frustration..? Anger…? No… hunger Turning she barely had time to witness the gleaming white teeth of a wolf as they cruelly clamped about her brow and jaw; crushing ivory fangs to stifle her screams.
---

Iscind jolts awake in her room, the carved protrusions of the oak bedframe digging into the side of her face. A persistent chill in the air lingered in stark contrast to the heat of recent summer days…


===
Esker bore the bloody axe-head in one hand, and the bloodied silver dagger in his other… Though distant, the noise of a predator feeding echoed unnaturally in the mists.. The events of the last few minutes seemed unfathomable… but no less credible for the impossibility…

Lashing out with his arm the Jarl strikes at their aunt, tearing a bloody three-clawed gash across her throat with a terrifying swipe! The older woman drops to her knees, clutching her neck as horror registers on the faces of all around. A half-breath later the Jarl too succumbs to some terrible force and clutches at his chest. The skin of the wolf pelt itself seems to meld with the figure of the man, and the crack-pop! and sickeningly wet snap! of rending joints and breaking bones echoes from the cloaked Jarl with an inconsistent staccato of dreadful noise.

The Sliver of Moon drops his bowl and snatches a hand-axe from his belt, waving Gundren away from the figure before them. Sigrun shrieks in disbelief as the creature in their midst rises to it's full height, half-again that of a man, with the broad head and shoulders of some hybrid wolf-man-thing!!!

His own brother… ambitious… cruel… becoming almost a beast who valued power above all… Well, now it seemed the flesh had become one with the spirit… and his Jarl had realized the form of a ravenous, slavering animal as his heart and mind had evolved within…

Somewhere in that fog lay those he still cared for… Freyda… his sisters… they had escaped… hadn’t they? Iscind… his shield-sister had risked herself to stem the tide of his aunt’s injuries… it had worked… hadn’t it? A rustling sound behind caused him to freeze in place. Hands gripped the hilt of knife and haft of axe tightly as the ranger shifted his weight. A dark shadow loomed above and bent low over his form; fully engulfing him… the timing had to be precise…

---
With a furious twist the dagger dug into the wooden frame of the bed, and an unsolicited cry of anger tinged with an inner hunger issued form Esker’s lips… Trickles of light streamed beneath the heavy wooden shutters of the inn’s private room, and the Myrmidon blinked as he came to realize the truth… Dawn had come… and no threats lay within sight…


===
Mira curled up with her friend beneath the cozy blankets. The show had gone well, and after the show… well little else could warm the soul like a job well done and the comfort of a loved one… Shapes moved under the covers, and warm flesh pressed against hers with a contented sound. The bard’s auburn hair slid away from her eyes as she cast her gaze about the room, looking for… a small person? The halfling… Elsa..? Mira murmured mutedly, but the cleric was nowhere to be found at the moment…

It wasn’t really a surprise… her friend wasn’t exactly prudish but… she’d had a much more sheltered upbringing… she wasn’t one to linger around when the bard entertained certain company… Her companion nuzzled at her neck, silken hairs scrubbing against her throat as the soft face buried itself against her collar. The redhead searched the room as she idly stroked the nape of her lover’s neck through the cascading mane. No pack.. no boots or items left… Elsa must have gone downstairs to meet the others… ugh… they’re probably waiting…

The snout nuzzled more firmly against her collar, insisting Mira stay… not wanting to give up the prize of her company… We have to get up sometime, she giggled, as the fur tickled her ear. Come, don’t you want some breakfast? A low huff of agreement sounded against her chest, and the sharp nip of teeth pinched her skin for only an instant.

Reflexively, the bard swatted at the covered shoulder. Hey! No fair… you know what I meant, I… the words died on her tongue as a furred lupine head rose from beneath the covers. A tiny speck of crimson glistened on ivory fangs mere inches from her face. There was little to do but try to scream as the pearly canines clamped closed across her neck…

---
With a gurgling shout, Mira awoke abruptly; her throat resting uncomfortably across a slender forearm blessedly free of fur. Coughing and clearing her airway, she gradually regained her senses. Light struggled past the heavy wooden shutters of the inn to reveal the tangled limbs of her apprentice entwined with her. Elsa sat cross-legged across the room, already deep in the meditation of her morning prayers …


===
Karl carved through the staggering cadavers. Somewhere in this cave he had lost track of most of the others, but the echoes of their struggle ricocheted irregularly from the jagged stone walls; making direction impossible to discern… Kicking the last of his foes down and stabbing the point of his fathers sword through its neck, the knight wrenched the magical blade free even as he cast his gaze about. The fallen torch on the floor guttered and sparked in the damp, threatening to extinguish without aid.

Shouldering his shield he scooped up the light source in his free hand, scanning his surroundings. Several paths led from his position, and the din of combat flowed though all of them to him.. With no indication of where the greatest threat lie, he picked a direction and pressed on. How can you protect them if you don’t even know where they are? the intrusive thought flickered across the back of his mind.

No sooner had a path been chosen than a contingent of skeletons began to emerge from each of the passages. Striking off along one of the narrower paths, he quickly found a narrow niche just wide enough for him to fight freely. The clatter of bones and mournful moans of the undead began to close towards him from either side. With a choke point like this, he might stand a chance… The screams and pained cries of those he had sworn to protect reverberated unnaturally throughout the tunnels as he raised his blade…

A clawed hand dug into his calf, impossibly sharp nails stabbing viciously into the flesh. Yeeesss… I could use a little something to drink… a voice snarled at him from below, just as he was dragged down into a tight fissure in the floor.

---
Struggling and pressing against the ever-tightening walls, Karl thrashed and pressed with all of his might. The bed heaved aside with a pained groan as it scraped across the floor. The knight’s eyes snapped open as he squirmed his way to a seated position between the wall and the bedframe. Somehow in his fitful sleep he had wedged himself hard betwixt the two. Daylight filtered in fitfully through the heavy wooden shutters of the inn…


===
Jerry strode hastily towards the inn, head bent with a purpose and step as confident as she could muster in the waning twilight. She had, perhaps, lingered too long in focusing on the papers. They were important, for certain, to advance her training… but she was cutting it close tonight. Her companion had offered to stay, but in a kind and understanding gesture she had insisted he not hang around simply to witness her pour over dozens and dozens of pages… an insistence that she only now came to wish had been delivered less effectively…

It wasn’t far now, at least. In a handful of moments she would be back at the wheel, and warming herself with a steaming cup of tea… or warmed cider, perhaps… yes, there was nothing between her and comfort but a few dozen more steps…

The echo of light footsteps struck an urgent tempo down the alley on the far side of the street. Quickening her own pace, Jerry strode with keener conviction as the dim glow of the Broken Wheel’s windows made blurry halos in the haze of the rising mist. Wa… Wait!! Pu… please!!.. a young lady’s voice called out to her as she neared the inn. Turning only when she was within a few paces of the door, Jerry squinted into the newly darkened night.

A youthful face, framed by golden locks of hair that framed a slender jaw, tremulously attempted to hold back what could only be fear born of desperation. The girl seemed not much younger than Jerry appeared to most humans, and she wrung her hands fervently. Please… I… I think someone is follo… The words cut off abruptly as a shadow strikes from the dark like a hawk taking a sparrow. A spray of crimson stains the plaster wall as she is pinned in place.

The attacking figure begins to take shape under the Mystaran’s scrutiny. Turning to regard her, clawed hand still buried knuckles deep in it’s victim’s neck, an all-too familiar face stretches into a rictus smile. Well, we-Hell… it croons into the night. It seems my search is over… little Jerry-berry… the creature that had once been her father muses. I’ve been looking for you for a while now… where did you run off to, hmm? Ah, no matter… A sickening squelch-crack! rips from the helpless girl’s neck as the creature forces the dagger-sharp fingers of its free hand into her eyes and pries the head back at an unnatural angle.

Come… join your old man for a drink! Without further preamble the vampire sinks it’s fangs into the dying stranger’s throat, gorging on the crimson lifeblood spilling forth. With an almost primal fear, Jerry staggers backwards against the doors of the inn. Scrambling blindly for the latch, her eyes remain transfixed on the vampire feasting. Desperately she turns, shaking and throttling the handle; hoping, praying that the locks were not set or would give or the jamb would break just enough to let her inside…

You’re always in such a rush … the creature’s lips formed the words thickly around a mouthful of blood as it spilled down the pale undead flesh of his chin. Come… have a taste! the vampire offered as it flung the helpless corpse of the girl a half-dozen paces to tumble broken like some discarded doll in the center of the street. Breaking mercifully through the door, Jerry slammed hard onto the wooden floor, scrambling desperately to stand…

---
Scrambling to her feet, the Mystaran simultaneously snatched at her belt for her mace and clutched for her holy symbol.. only instead of the dark night street, or the floor of the entrance to the inn she found herself in the faintly illuminated dim of her room… Daylight peeked tentatively through imperfections in the heavy wooden shutters, and half-elven eyes soon adjusted to their surroundings. Merrick lay fitfully shifting in their bed, not quite roused from slumber as Jerry shivered in her shift from the combination of adrenaline and early morning chill…

===
---
--
-

It is now Wednesday March 12th 736 BC (Barovian Calendar… and yeah… apparently Cannon Ravenloft uses modern Earth months but each consists of 30 days with 31 days in October being the exception because Halloween is awesome)

All injured parties gain 1 hp

Casters pick your spells for the day

Del shakes off the effects of the Custom Poison completely

All DM copies of PC sheets updated with new xp totals

[Nocturno]

Having left a bundle in the bed to fool Cross Pyros will be downstairs preordering breakfast for everyone.
Starting his 2nd or 3rd cup of coffee as they come down stairs.
When someone he recognizes comes down.
"GoodMORNING!"
If it is Mira he will quickly pull out her dagger and start cleaning his finger nails with it, wearing a huge shit eating grin.

[Darithe]

Iscind Aranya

Iscind shivers slightly as she awakes, gently rubbing the side of her face, hoping it would not bruise from where bedframe hit. She hurriedly dresses in a loose white blouse and leather trousers, leaving her armor for now in the room. As she pulls on her boots, she ponders whether to take a weapon with her but decides better of it, somehow she felt she could trust these new folk. She leaves them in her room.

Bounding down the steps she notes one of the folk she met the night before, returning his greeting, "Good morning sir." Her long blonde hair falls about her face like a golden veil as she leans forward and pulls out a seat. "Is there a menu?" she asks brushing her unruly hair back with one slim hand.

[tarlyn]

Delsenora stretches lazily, slowly waking. Hopping out of bed, she proceeds to do her morning exercises. Dancing, situps, pushups, stretches..

The sun is rising as she finishes her routine. Not knowing how long she will be staying, she decides to pack everything up before her bath.

After her hot bath, she dresses She could pay for more nights if needbe. She descends to the main room and finding

people from yesterday, joins them. Nodding and offering up a "Good Morning to everyone " she sits.

She will wait for a waiter/ress to approach and orders a hot tea with some eggs and a scone.

Smiling at the others she appears to be feeling much better.

[Gregor]

Gregor groans as he wakes from a fitful sleep. A single open eye glancing around the room, he winces as he realizes the proceedings of the prior evening were not part of the nightmare he was waking from. Sighing he swings his feet to the floor and greets the morning with a dry cough. By habit, he reaches for the inside pocket of his overcoat and retrieves the small metal flask hidden within. Shaking the container, he appears visibly disappointed at the lack of heft and considers foregoing his normal morning eye-opener. I wonder if they even have absinthe in this place, he ponders. Shrugging, he dismisses the prior thought and takes a small slug. Ah, much better!

Rising he dons the coat, returning the flask to its place of honor. As he quickly splashes water on his face and dries, he recalls the dagger retrieved from Sige the prior evening. Withdrawing it, he examines it for any sign of .. well he doesn't know what.

The morning ritual satisfied he heads down to the common area to inquire about a quick snack of bread and cheese. I should probably wait on ordering an ale before I know more about these people, he reckons.

[tarlyn]

Del enjoys her breakfast and looking at everyone, smiles.

Lowering her voice so hopefully only her companions can hear she says "So I was paying attention to people talking last night

,yeah I do that. It may be impolite but sometimes you learn interesting things. Apparently there have been a few murders in town ,each night,

as a matter of fact. So I was wondering if there was a constable here, militia maybe, who looked into these types of occurences?"

[Jenara]

In a daze she allowed her eyes to take in the room, patting her neck urgently despite herself as she slowly gains her senses.

"Did you have a Bad Dream?" Sabrina asks as she snuggles openly against the older woman, resting her head against her bare skin she reaches up a hand to stroke MIra's face.

"Its why I was drinking so much, only.. that makes them worse, something to do with not belonging here or being displaced or.. something. All I know is I woke up, found you and I knew everything was ok." Kissing the top of the Girls head she strokes her side reverently.

"I have them occasionally, mostly when me and my Sweetie have argued or when its been you know.. bad?" She explains in a thoughtful tone, glancing over at Elsa she whispers. "Does she have them too?"

"We all do, I expect our new friends will be feeling the effects this morning." Hugging the girl, bare skin against bare skin she breathes in her scent for a moment before finally letting her go. "Time for breakfast." And with a simple motion she kicks off the covers and bares them both to the world.

"Mira!" Pulling the covers about herself as MIra strides towards the washbasin, washing and dressing with abandon she gives Sabrina a mock look of indignation, throws her her night shirt and turns her back, sitting by Elsa.

"The Dreams are getting worse, you left me.. she was a Wolf..." Speaking common she sighs and rests a hand on the Haflings shoulder. "Now she's modest? Really..." Tutting she allows the Girl to dress, only sneaking the occasional glance.

"Mira!" Shouting again, she dresses rapidly before finally coming to sit beside the Hafling and her Master.

(Mira and Sabrina have yet to surface)

[Jenara]

Karl rises with his usual efficiency, he would need to make sure he keeps an eye on the group, Especially Lady Mira and the Kender, both were known for vanishing and how was he supposed to keep an eye on them if they did that indeed?

"Hopefully these new people will bring a sense of order and control." He tells himself as he strides downstairs, sword at his belt as he enters the common room, regardless of how much sleep and how bad a night a good Knight was always ready.

"Greetings." He raises a hand, taking in the others, noting that Lady Mira and Young Sabrina had not joined them as he does so.

[Revenant]

Esker Manyblades

Only a dream...he thinks, cursing his foolishness. He wrenches the dagger free of the bedframe. Light streamed through the window as he dressed washing the sweat from his face and upper torso before patting himself dry and pulling on a light shirt.

He bounded down the stair, the hunger he felt earlier still potent and present. "Good morning!," he greets those at the table, pausing only to playfully flick Iscind's ear as he passes her, "What's the morning offering? I'm as hungry as a wolf."

[TristenC]

The Broken Wheel: Common area
As the group assembles, one by one downstairs, they find Merrick already seated at one of the larger tables. Ah, good morning all. I.. had some trouble sleeping and so came down a bit early. Any requests for food or drink he happily translates for the party. (While there is no set menu; bread and cheese, bacon, cured ham, hashed potatoes or beets, tea, coffee, juices, pastries of sweet and scone variety available for mornings; and beignets with drizzled honey or powdered sugar seem to be a specialty. Alternatively special requests can be made and most anything can be requested)


Merrick also seems relieved to see the Kender after his escapades. I'm not sure those of you who arrived last night have yet met master Pyros here. He's a Kender, but if you aren't from the world of Krynn I suspect you're not familiar. I think Mira put it well last night, but one way to describe them is... slender halflings with no sense of fear or ownership... so... well he 'finds' things fairly regularly that are not strictly his... Smirking, Merrick pats his own pockets surreptitiously. Suddenly the act turns to actual concern and he faces his friend. Pyros... you haven't happened to see my components pouch recently, have you?

Cross emerges shortly after, the nearly two-foot tall Raven perched on his shoulder in stark contrast to his mist-white hair. Those nightmares... worse every night... He orders some tea, bacon and eggs; attempting the language himself first but eventually translating through Merrick.

As Del shares her investigations from the night before, Merrick nods. Yes, the waitstaff have been abuzz with it all morning! Apparently this has been going on in town for almost a week. At least one person per night, and they all seem to resemble each other. Last night, someone was found just outside of the inn! He finishes, concernedly.

Pyros picks at his fingertips with a silver-bladed dagger; sadly Mira seems as yet markedly absent though the knight Sir Karl emerges from above looking well put-together despite the slight bags around his eyes. Shortly the blonde halfling Elsa joins the others as well, ordering tea and a plate of honey-glazed beignets for the group to share. Well! I hope everyone slept better than I did, but at least the dark of night has passed for now. She adds cheerfully, tearing into one of the soft pastries when they arrive with sounds of happiness.



Mira's room
Elsa stifles a grimace initially and mutters something that sounds like "always" in response to the nightmarish question. Glancing briefly at their guest she smirks at the bard comments. Light of day, and all... you ok? she checks in. Already prepared to head down to the commons she hardly pauses with her hand on the doorknob. Everyone will see if you don't dress quick! she giggles before she pops out of the room in an instant, closing the door behind to retain some privacy for her room-mates.

Jerry's Room
Jerry wakes to an empty bed, gone cold in the past hours. A small note in a fine hand waits next to her on the night stand. I couldn't sleep, and didn't want to disturb you. These nightmares seem more frequent in the last few days... I'll have tea and pastry waiting for you downstairs.
-M-

[Nocturno]

Pyros puts the dagger down with a HUGE sigh.

"Let me check!" He will throw a scrap of bread up to Fenrir, then starts to search his pockets.
If he finds he, he will gladly hand it back to Merrick.

"As mentioned I am Pyros, Tracker extraordinaire, slayer of old hags in huge skeletons, and nephew of Tasselhoff Burrfoot! Trained by the legendary woodsman Artanis."

[TristenC]

The raven snatches the morsel mid-air, snapping it quickly down his throat. Once the food arrives, Cross feeds him some strips of bacon. Pyros indeed finds a pouch of various strange paraphernalia that Merrick confirms with a wry smile.

[Jenara]

"I'm fine, just the dreams. Sleep is always better with someone to snuggle." She winks at Elsa and watches her leave, "Ok, Elsa is right, dress and we'll get some Breakfast and I shall escort you home. If you will allow?" The Young woman dresses quickly, finding her clothes in a nice neat pile.

"Ready." Offering Mira her arm the pair descend the stairs, hand in hand.

"Good Morning." Mira calls, looking for the less than perfect faces, "The NIghtmares.." Her head turns to Pyros, without a single harsh word she approaches him, reaching out her hand. "Thank you so much for finding my Dagger, I really thought I lost it."

"Good Morning." Sabrina utters in Elven, still clutching Mira's hand.

[Nocturno]

Pyros then pulls out his newly found silver dagger of his own. And cuts some pastry with it.
Then with a serious tone.
"I came across these." He will pull the notes out.