Orith snapped to attention after being given orders and looks over at some of the other guards standing nearby and points to a number of them, scouring his mind for their names, "Vander, Chele, Lars, Sten, help me find supplies and stuff to set up an encampment please? We'll go through the wreckage carefully and salvage what we can, stay safe, that's the priority!"
With a quick salute to both Woad and Gilbert, he leads the others guards off to gather up what can be found in the outskirts of the crater.
"I'm not leaving."Quill said quietly. "I know there are risks to remaining, but I'm capable of defending myself if needed. There are people here that won't be able to travel without aid. With the city gone... I don't know what they'll do without assistance. Even organized, there may not be enough guardsman and Hellriders remaining to care for all of the refugees. They were outnumbered before. With the losses they've sustained... I don't know what they'll do. I'll stay until I'm not needed any longer." She paused in her movement and tipped her head back to look at her mounted companion.
"You are not required to safeguard me, Damian Ravenshade of Baldur's Gate."The words were accompanied by the barest hint of a smile, the first she'd displayed since their meeting. "I assure you, I am able to care for myself."She dug into her belt pouch and produced a piece of crystalized sugar. It had been meant as a treat for the horse, but the moment she brought it into visibility, her mouth dried. She'd given one of these to the child she'd healed. Was the boy still alive? She wondered. Forcing herself into motion, she offered the sweet to the mare and patted the mount's neck gently.
"Thank you for your aid in leaving the city. I hope to see you again." With that, she turned away and continued toward the medical tent. Already cries of pain and sorrow were audible from the interior. She'd do what she could to stabilize the wounded, save the dying, and comfort those who were beyond anyone's care. Please Kelemvor. She prayed as she entered the tent, immediately surrounded by the wounded who had been directed here. Let me be capable of doing something to help these people.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Damian was about to scold the tiefling for her naïvety, but then she had spoken his name, not with disdain or contempt, and was that a smile? "Yes, I have no doubt you can take care of yourself Quill but I will stay on nevertheless." He said with firm determination. His pitch-black mare eagerly accepted the treat she was offered, even trying to follow the tiefling for more, a displeased neigh as Damian made her halt. He watched Quill disappear into the medical tent, becoming lost in thoughts for a while before returning back into the chaos around him. He shook his head and started to survey the field, searching for someone who could provide him with answers. Perception: 22
Gilbert turns to the old man to address him. "You may feel insignificant, but you are have something many here do not. A willingness to help and a knowledge of the arcane. We need to know what happened here and I am putting you in charge of putting together a task force consisting of all of those that have any kind of arcane knowledge that can help us figure what happened and what may be coming next. Without knowledge we don't know how to defend these people or fix what has happened here. Believe me, you may have one of the most important jobs here."
*I don't think at this point anyone actually knows Harlan's name, PSA just used it to show who Quill was speaking to.*
Harlan frowned a little. "I suspect 'all those with arcane knowledge' in this city amounts to me! If I may be so bold, there is far too little interest in academia of any kind in Elturel. Was, I mean." Seeing the expression on Gilbert's face he holds up his hands in a conciliatory fashion, and adds "I mean no offence, however Elturel was not a city of great thinkers. It held no colleges or universities of any mention, even libraries were few and far between. The only recourse I can think of is to question any surviving members of the Priesthood of Torm - it was Torm who was supposed to have gifted the Champion to the city, was it not?"
Many people decide to carry on, ignoring your attempts to set up a camp near the site of the missing Elturel. For many, simply stopping out here in the wilderness is too great a risk. They just simply will feel safer inside another city or even a town. However, the refugees do take some water from the River Chionthar, and food as well. They take as much as they can to make sure they will have enough on the journey to their destinations. Yet, they make sure not to take too much and leave those staying at the camp nothing.
This left a modest number of people staying at the camp. People who are not well enough to travel. In total there are the six of you, and the four guards all willing to help the camp out in one way or another. The rest of the camp is made up from twenty other people. A total of thirty people all settling in the camp near the River Chionthar and the crater.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
After making a quick circuit on his steed, realizing there were only a handful of people left, none of which were likely to be able to shed any light on what had happened, Damian returned to the hellriders. "I'm afraid I have't been able to locate anyone who have knowledge of why this have happened."He said, motioning to the crater. "It seems your hellrider brethren have either died or fled. We should perhaps now focus our efforts on helping the people here to get well enough to travel to somewhere more safe, like Baldur's Gate." He suggested to the hellriders, then glancing over at the medical tent, hoping that Quill would have been more successful in her task.
(So I assume neither Damain nor Azrael found anyone interesting enough to know what has happened then? What time of day is it? Are there any carts or something like that around to transport the people who can't walk?)
Gilbert replies to the older man and says, "Aye, I believe you have the right of it. High Observer Kreeg who summoned the Companion, was a follower of Torm. That may be route of investigation we may want to go down. See if you can find any priests or paladins or clerics or any followers of Torm to see if they have any ideas."
Gilbert then tells the others that the night is coming and that a watch needs to be organized to protect from wolves or any wishing to capitalize on the misfortune of the citizens of the fallen Elturel.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
As the camp is being established and evening sets in, Harlan would like to try to find anyone who was involved in the worship of Torm - clerics, priests, lay staff, etc.
Harlan investigates the camp and discovers an elderly human man dressed in robes. As the man is bent over an injured woman, Harlan notices an amulet dangling from the neck of the man with a symbol on it. The symbol is that of a white right-handed gauntlet, with the palm of the gauntlet facing up.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
"Excuse me?" Harlan interrupts the man's focus on the injured woman. "You are of the Church of Torm, correct? Do you have any idea what has happened here? The Champion was a gift of Torm, was it not?"
"That is what High Overseer told us," the man nods his head. "But yes, I am one of the priests of Torm, Theodric is the name. I can't rightly say what happened to the Champion. Perhaps Torm has seen to punish us? But that is not the god I believe in. No, Torm is supposed to be the god of duty and loyalty. I cannot see him trying to punish us.
Though, the High Overseer has been missing from Elturel from some time. I guess that could be a failure to perform his duty and therefore Torm has diminished."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
"The High Overseer is missing? Interesting..." Harlan eyebrows raise at this news. The scent of a mystery thrills him - if there's one thing Harlan can't stand, it's unanswered questions. "And where might he have gone? If you had to guess."
Theodric thinks for a moment, "Well, he had business with Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard of Baldur's Gate. The High Overseer had invited the Grand Duke to Elturel and greeted him and his delegation. That was five days ago. Since then the High Overseer had failed to show up to meetings with the Grand Duke. Of course Grand Duke Ravengard was not pleased with the High Overseer's lack of commitment to settle the disputes between the two cities. He was about to leave with his men when the Champion turned black.
I don't know where the High Overseer had disappeared off to, or what happened to him. I also do not know if the Grand Duke made it out of Elturel before it's disappearance. Although, it looks as if he did not."
Theodric sighs for a moment.
"It is getting late, and I must retire for the night. So if that's all the questions you have for now, then I will wish you a good night."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
So, one of the great leaders of Balder's Gate is also missing, presumably dead, along with most of the population of Elturel. The whole of the Western Heartlands would soon be in uproar, once news spread.
Strange news from the priest, that the High Overseer would invite Ravengard for talks and not attend said talks, all just days before this cataclysm. Did the High Overseer know what was coming? Perhaps he had already fled Elturel to escape an inevitable event. Or maybe his very absence was the cause of the destruction? More questions, and Harlan hated questions.
For now, he allowed the priest to retire, and felt the heaviness of his own eyes. The events of the day were beginning to catch up with him. He had never been strong of body, and aches from his joints reminded him of his age again. He too wandered towards the main congregation of people to find a soft patch of ground or bedroll upon which to sleep. However, he made sure not to get too close to the group of survivors.
Quill spent the rest of the day in the healing tent. She'd exhausted her magic before night had fallen, gifting the last of her healing to a pregnant young woman with a crushed leg and a guardsman with a grievous head injury. After that, she bound wounds, set bones, soothed fevers and night-terrors and did her best to send the injured on their way when they were stable enough to travel. Of course, that still left them with a small number of the most heavily injured. When things finally seemed to be slowing down and no new injured were being brought to them, Quill emerged from the tent and headed toward the river. She badly needed to rinse her hands and arms and clean the front of her shirt and trous where blood splatter and other, less pleasant things had taken residence.
When she reached the water's edge, she started with her hands, scrubbing at them with a bar of soap until they were slightly pinked from the friction, but clean. Her arms were next, subjected to the same treatment. Then, she rinsed her face, scrubbing until the scent of blood had faded marginally. Looking around to ensure she didn't have an audience for the next part, Quill stripped off her leggings and shirt, using the wide cover of her cloak to maintain her decency as she worked to clean those as well. When the worst of the stains had been removed, she laid both pieces over a tree branch to dry, then settled herself at the base of the tree to wait, her cloak wrapped around herself like a dark blanket. When her clothing was dry enough to wear without squelching as she moved, she'd return to the main camp.
"The tiefling is taking a bath in the river. And this is important how exactly?" Damian said sternly to his giggling imp servant. "We need to get back to Baldur's Gate remember, that is all that matters right now." He continued as he approached the camp again on his pitch-black mare as darkness fell. "Yes, yes I see her." He snapped at Azrael as Quill came into view, walking up from the river. He hesitated but rode to meet her.
"You took a bath?"He started as he approached the tiefling. "I mean I suppose you took a bath, coming up from the river, unless you just went there for water."He continued, his cheeks blushing but it would be hard to tell in the darkness, he sincerely hoped. "I assume you are finished with your work then, for today?" He said, regaining his composure as he came up alongside the tiefling. "I was hoping to convince you, and the others, to head for Baldur's Gate at first light. They need to reach a safe haven if they are to survive, wouldn't you agree?"
"Were you spying on me?" Quill found herself smiling. This time, the gesture was small, but genuine, a slight curl at the corner of her lips. Despite her exhaustion, she found the idea that this dark, brooding man might have spied upon her like a boy peeking into a maid's bedroom quite amusing. She doubted that was the case, he seemed far too self-contained for such mischief, but it was a humorous thought. She walked to the side of his mount, offering her hand to the lovely mare and stroking a hand along the beast's silken neck. "Do you ever dismount?"She asked, her tone lightly teasing.
Her garb was still damp from the river, but she was clean for the first time since the catastrophe had begun. Her cloak hung around her like a shroud, protecting her from the worst of the night air. "I agree that we should begin making our way to Baldur's Gate." She said. She wasn't certain if he'd expected her to argue, but he was right. The survivors of the disaster needed a place to turn to and Baldur's Gate seemed the best option. "But we'll be unable to move some of the injured before morning. When we've slept and the healer's magics have returned--" Including her own, "We can help to further mend their injuries. They'll be better able to travel then."
"Spying on you? Why in the nine hells would I do that? What a preposterous thought." Damian responded, a bit too quickly and strongly. "I mean, I have been occupied with trying to find out more about what was the cause of this...cataclysm. Unsuccessfully I'm afraid." He quickly added in a more gentle tone. How could he tell that his impish imp had spied on her, that would have to be a revelation for another day. "I only dismount when there is a good reason to do so."He continued, trying to sound confident as he looked down on the tiefling walking beside his steed. After a moment he found himself dismounting, taking the reins and leading his mare the last stretch to the camp. "Good, we'll leave in the morning then, now let's find you a place to rest."
Gilbert makes another circuit around the camp, checking that the guards were alert and that all within the camp were safe from...whatever may be without. He saw the tiefling and the mounted man conversating alone earlier, but they were obviously capable of handling themselves. Eventually he makes his way over to the old man who is the expert in arcane matters. He crouches down next to the man and says,’ “I apologize, we were never introduced properly, my name is Gilbert Evarden, Hellrider and Follower of the Creed. What is your name sir? And have you uncovered anything that can help us understand what may have happened here?”
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Orith snapped to attention after being given orders and looks over at some of the other guards standing nearby and points to a number of them, scouring his mind for their names, "Vander, Chele, Lars, Sten, help me find supplies and stuff to set up an encampment please? We'll go through the wreckage carefully and salvage what we can, stay safe, that's the priority!"
With a quick salute to both Woad and Gilbert, he leads the others guards off to gather up what can be found in the outskirts of the crater.
"I'm not leaving." Quill said quietly. "I know there are risks to remaining, but I'm capable of defending myself if needed. There are people here that won't be able to travel without aid. With the city gone... I don't know what they'll do without assistance. Even organized, there may not be enough guardsman and Hellriders remaining to care for all of the refugees. They were outnumbered before. With the losses they've sustained... I don't know what they'll do. I'll stay until I'm not needed any longer." She paused in her movement and tipped her head back to look at her mounted companion.
"You are not required to safeguard me, Damian Ravenshade of Baldur's Gate." The words were accompanied by the barest hint of a smile, the first she'd displayed since their meeting. "I assure you, I am able to care for myself." She dug into her belt pouch and produced a piece of crystalized sugar. It had been meant as a treat for the horse, but the moment she brought it into visibility, her mouth dried. She'd given one of these to the child she'd healed. Was the boy still alive? She wondered. Forcing herself into motion, she offered the sweet to the mare and patted the mount's neck gently.
"Thank you for your aid in leaving the city. I hope to see you again." With that, she turned away and continued toward the medical tent. Already cries of pain and sorrow were audible from the interior. She'd do what she could to stabilize the wounded, save the dying, and comfort those who were beyond anyone's care. Please Kelemvor. She prayed as she entered the tent, immediately surrounded by the wounded who had been directed here. Let me be capable of doing something to help these people.
Damian was about to scold the tiefling for her naïvety, but then she had spoken his name, not with disdain or contempt, and was that a smile? "Yes, I have no doubt you can take care of yourself Quill but I will stay on nevertheless." He said with firm determination. His pitch-black mare eagerly accepted the treat she was offered, even trying to follow the tiefling for more, a displeased neigh as Damian made her halt. He watched Quill disappear into the medical tent, becoming lost in thoughts for a while before returning back into the chaos around him. He shook his head and started to survey the field, searching for someone who could provide him with answers.
Perception: 22
Gilbert turns to the old man to address him. "You may feel insignificant, but you are have something many here do not. A willingness to help and a knowledge of the arcane. We need to know what happened here and I am putting you in charge of putting together a task force consisting of all of those that have any kind of arcane knowledge that can help us figure what happened and what may be coming next. Without knowledge we don't know how to defend these people or fix what has happened here. Believe me, you may have one of the most important jobs here."
*I don't think at this point anyone actually knows Harlan's name, PSA just used it to show who Quill was speaking to.*
Harlan frowned a little. "I suspect 'all those with arcane knowledge' in this city amounts to me! If I may be so bold, there is far too little interest in academia of any kind in Elturel. Was, I mean." Seeing the expression on Gilbert's face he holds up his hands in a conciliatory fashion, and adds "I mean no offence, however Elturel was not a city of great thinkers. It held no colleges or universities of any mention, even libraries were few and far between. The only recourse I can think of is to question any surviving members of the Priesthood of Torm - it was Torm who was supposed to have gifted the Champion to the city, was it not?"
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
Many people decide to carry on, ignoring your attempts to set up a camp near the site of the missing Elturel. For many, simply stopping out here in the wilderness is too great a risk. They just simply will feel safer inside another city or even a town. However, the refugees do take some water from the River Chionthar, and food as well. They take as much as they can to make sure they will have enough on the journey to their destinations. Yet, they make sure not to take too much and leave those staying at the camp nothing.
This left a modest number of people staying at the camp. People who are not well enough to travel. In total there are the six of you, and the four guards all willing to help the camp out in one way or another. The rest of the camp is made up from twenty other people. A total of thirty people all settling in the camp near the River Chionthar and the crater.
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
After making a quick circuit on his steed, realizing there were only a handful of people left, none of which were likely to be able to shed any light on what had happened, Damian returned to the hellriders. "I'm afraid I have't been able to locate anyone who have knowledge of why this have happened." He said, motioning to the crater. "It seems your hellrider brethren have either died or fled. We should perhaps now focus our efforts on helping the people here to get well enough to travel to somewhere more safe, like Baldur's Gate." He suggested to the hellriders, then glancing over at the medical tent, hoping that Quill would have been more successful in her task.
(So I assume neither Damain nor Azrael found anyone interesting enough to know what has happened then? What time of day is it? Are there any carts or something like that around to transport the people who can't walk?)
Gilbert replies to the older man and says, "Aye, I believe you have the right of it. High Observer Kreeg who summoned the Companion, was a follower of Torm. That may be route of investigation we may want to go down. See if you can find any priests or paladins or clerics or any followers of Torm to see if they have any ideas."
Gilbert then tells the others that the night is coming and that a watch needs to be organized to protect from wolves or any wishing to capitalize on the misfortune of the citizens of the fallen Elturel.
As the camp is being established and evening sets in, Harlan would like to try to find anyone who was involved in the worship of Torm - clerics, priests, lay staff, etc.
Investigation 7
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
Harlan investigates the camp and discovers an elderly human man dressed in robes. As the man is bent over an injured woman, Harlan notices an amulet dangling from the neck of the man with a symbol on it. The symbol is that of a white right-handed gauntlet, with the palm of the gauntlet facing up.
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
"Excuse me?" Harlan interrupts the man's focus on the injured woman. "You are of the Church of Torm, correct? Do you have any idea what has happened here? The Champion was a gift of Torm, was it not?"
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
"That is what High Overseer told us," the man nods his head. "But yes, I am one of the priests of Torm, Theodric is the name. I can't rightly say what happened to the Champion. Perhaps Torm has seen to punish us? But that is not the god I believe in. No, Torm is supposed to be the god of duty and loyalty. I cannot see him trying to punish us.
Though, the High Overseer has been missing from Elturel from some time. I guess that could be a failure to perform his duty and therefore Torm has diminished."
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
"The High Overseer is missing? Interesting..." Harlan eyebrows raise at this news. The scent of a mystery thrills him - if there's one thing Harlan can't stand, it's unanswered questions. "And where might he have gone? If you had to guess."
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
Theodric thinks for a moment, "Well, he had business with Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard of Baldur's Gate. The High Overseer had invited the Grand Duke to Elturel and greeted him and his delegation. That was five days ago. Since then the High Overseer had failed to show up to meetings with the Grand Duke. Of course Grand Duke Ravengard was not pleased with the High Overseer's lack of commitment to settle the disputes between the two cities. He was about to leave with his men when the Champion turned black.
I don't know where the High Overseer had disappeared off to, or what happened to him. I also do not know if the Grand Duke made it out of Elturel before it's disappearance. Although, it looks as if he did not."
Theodric sighs for a moment.
"It is getting late, and I must retire for the night. So if that's all the questions you have for now, then I will wish you a good night."
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
So, one of the great leaders of Balder's Gate is also missing, presumably dead, along with most of the population of Elturel. The whole of the Western Heartlands would soon be in uproar, once news spread.
Strange news from the priest, that the High Overseer would invite Ravengard for talks and not attend said talks, all just days before this cataclysm. Did the High Overseer know what was coming? Perhaps he had already fled Elturel to escape an inevitable event. Or maybe his very absence was the cause of the destruction? More questions, and Harlan hated questions.
For now, he allowed the priest to retire, and felt the heaviness of his own eyes. The events of the day were beginning to catch up with him. He had never been strong of body, and aches from his joints reminded him of his age again. He too wandered towards the main congregation of people to find a soft patch of ground or bedroll upon which to sleep. However, he made sure not to get too close to the group of survivors.
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
Quill spent the rest of the day in the healing tent. She'd exhausted her magic before night had fallen, gifting the last of her healing to a pregnant young woman with a crushed leg and a guardsman with a grievous head injury. After that, she bound wounds, set bones, soothed fevers and night-terrors and did her best to send the injured on their way when they were stable enough to travel. Of course, that still left them with a small number of the most heavily injured. When things finally seemed to be slowing down and no new injured were being brought to them, Quill emerged from the tent and headed toward the river. She badly needed to rinse her hands and arms and clean the front of her shirt and trous where blood splatter and other, less pleasant things had taken residence.
When she reached the water's edge, she started with her hands, scrubbing at them with a bar of soap until they were slightly pinked from the friction, but clean. Her arms were next, subjected to the same treatment. Then, she rinsed her face, scrubbing until the scent of blood had faded marginally. Looking around to ensure she didn't have an audience for the next part, Quill stripped off her leggings and shirt, using the wide cover of her cloak to maintain her decency as she worked to clean those as well. When the worst of the stains had been removed, she laid both pieces over a tree branch to dry, then settled herself at the base of the tree to wait, her cloak wrapped around herself like a dark blanket. When her clothing was dry enough to wear without squelching as she moved, she'd return to the main camp.
"The tiefling is taking a bath in the river. And this is important how exactly?" Damian said sternly to his giggling imp servant. "We need to get back to Baldur's Gate remember, that is all that matters right now." He continued as he approached the camp again on his pitch-black mare as darkness fell. "Yes, yes I see her." He snapped at Azrael as Quill came into view, walking up from the river. He hesitated but rode to meet her.
"You took a bath?" He started as he approached the tiefling. "I mean I suppose you took a bath, coming up from the river, unless you just went there for water." He continued, his cheeks blushing but it would be hard to tell in the darkness, he sincerely hoped. "I assume you are finished with your work then, for today?" He said, regaining his composure as he came up alongside the tiefling. "I was hoping to convince you, and the others, to head for Baldur's Gate at first light. They need to reach a safe haven if they are to survive, wouldn't you agree?"
"Were you spying on me?" Quill found herself smiling. This time, the gesture was small, but genuine, a slight curl at the corner of her lips. Despite her exhaustion, she found the idea that this dark, brooding man might have spied upon her like a boy peeking into a maid's bedroom quite amusing. She doubted that was the case, he seemed far too self-contained for such mischief, but it was a humorous thought. She walked to the side of his mount, offering her hand to the lovely mare and stroking a hand along the beast's silken neck. "Do you ever dismount?" She asked, her tone lightly teasing.
Her garb was still damp from the river, but she was clean for the first time since the catastrophe had begun. Her cloak hung around her like a shroud, protecting her from the worst of the night air. "I agree that we should begin making our way to Baldur's Gate." She said. She wasn't certain if he'd expected her to argue, but he was right. The survivors of the disaster needed a place to turn to and Baldur's Gate seemed the best option. "But we'll be unable to move some of the injured before morning. When we've slept and the healer's magics have returned--" Including her own, "We can help to further mend their injuries. They'll be better able to travel then."
"Spying on you? Why in the nine hells would I do that? What a preposterous thought." Damian responded, a bit too quickly and strongly. "I mean, I have been occupied with trying to find out more about what was the cause of this...cataclysm. Unsuccessfully I'm afraid." He quickly added in a more gentle tone. How could he tell that his impish imp had spied on her, that would have to be a revelation for another day. "I only dismount when there is a good reason to do so." He continued, trying to sound confident as he looked down on the tiefling walking beside his steed. After a moment he found himself dismounting, taking the reins and leading his mare the last stretch to the camp. "Good, we'll leave in the morning then, now let's find you a place to rest."
Gilbert makes another circuit around the camp, checking that the guards were alert and that all within the camp were safe from...whatever may be without. He saw the tiefling and the mounted man conversating alone earlier, but they were obviously capable of handling themselves. Eventually he makes his way over to the old man who is the expert in arcane matters. He crouches down next to the man and says,’ “I apologize, we were never introduced properly, my name is Gilbert Evarden, Hellrider and Follower of the Creed. What is your name sir? And have you uncovered anything that can help us understand what may have happened here?”