Quote from Mingofaust >>

A few days later, she corner's Hildi over dinnertime. "I would pay my fee for staying in your building," she says. "How much would it be? I have been earning coin."

Drusk stops eating to point out: "Even though Quillary does not want to be a party-owner of the manor, she has contributed over 200 GP to the group's repair fund. And if we have more group errands, we will be further in her debt... Seems that room-and-board is covered for some time. Maybe revisit the issue 6 months from now?"

"Mm. I am not... comfortable with... ownership. Life is transient, and the structures you... we, people have built around transferring things beyond that... well I am uncomfortable with them. So, I gladly take you up on your offer of time paid." She seems pleased with this arrangement, and spends the rest of the dinner alternately trying to feed food to Twigroot and engaging in an invisible pantomime discussion about life after death with Lif.

When at the Road's End, Hildigrim appears alternately distractedly frazzled and pleasantly engrossed. Poitra, Twigroot, and his new purchases are equally fascinating to him. If he's not following around the new ghost, politely studying Quillary's new friend, pouring over his spell books, or writing in his new journal, he's rushing somewhere because he's forgotten to do something or realized he's late for some appointment.

When Quillary corners him and asks about rent, the halfling blinks at her. "Fee? But ... we don't pay ourselves any fees. All of us are in this together, aren't we? I thought that was the arrangement. We asked if you wanted to come back with us, and you agreed. That means we all work together. But if you'd like to contribute some of your coin toward getting the Road's End up and running, that would be very nice of you." He pulls a piece of paper out of a pocket and produces a pencil from another (because Hildi is evidently the treasurer or accountant or something ... which kind of makes sense). "How much would you like to contribute? I'll make a note."

After the business of the coin is done, Hildigrim begins grilling Quillary on her new job in the CotD.

OOC: It's such a pain when I start a post and then WORK gets in the way, and I actually don't finish it for a while later. Three posts were posted in the time it took me to finally post mine. But I think it still works.

Hildigrim did invite everyone, but Jorin was the only one that said he wanted to come.

"Is it a job? I am allowed by the City Watch to prune the City of the Dead, as they call it, during the night hours. I tend the night blooming flowers, and keep the occasional creature from straying across the veil. Did you know, there is a tomb there, called the Road's End?" She raises her eyebrows with a delighted look on her face, hands wide to encompass the establishment of the same name.

"I am told by Gonner, one of the Watch, that it is where those who die while they are visiting Waterdeep are interred, if they are not claimed by anyone. It seems a restless place, but the sighs of the dead and that of the trees have ever been mingled. I enjoy my time in the City, and have set several of my friends free in the place," she taps her curly hat.

"Yet, it seems quite... tame, though why I would expect a city's graveyard to be different than a city's streets, I am not sure."

Jorin says to Quillary, "I come from a wild place, as maybe you do too, and so I was uneasy in my first few weeks here. But, as I looked I found there was plenty of wild here too, as I think you have found in your grave tending.  In any case, brief stays here are a pleasant, even if soft, break from the tasks elsewhere." He ponders for a moment before adding, "Impermanence, as you say." Then, pleased with his big word, goes back to happily tasting Pascal's latest creation.

Meanwhile, from the kitchen, the party hears Pascal shout, “Lif, mon amie, look at my knife! I could cut through Bullette hide with this bad boy!”

Jorin lets out a hearty laugh, "Pascal, is brings my heart great joy to hear you enjoying that blade so much!"

The voice calls back, “Oohoo, Jorin, you make one fancy blade, mon frere! I bet this piece o’ work could slice through bone!” 
Theres the distinct sound of a different blade thwapping into wood, that classic “rbrbrbbrtt” noise like an arrow.

Pascal sticks his head out with a wooden cutting board under him, which now has a knife in it, “As a note,” Pascal coughs, “Lif has gently reminded us to not play with knives while cooking his recipes.”

Quote from Mingofaust >>

"Is it a job? I am allowed by the City Watch to prune the City of the Dead, as they call it, during the night hours. I tend the night blooming flowers, and keep the occasional creature from straying across the veil."

(OOC: Yes, it is like free-lancing. They needed extra hands at night, until they catch the necromancer mischievously creating skeletons to attack people. Quillary would be on their list of "temp workers", and gain greater access to the CotD than the average citizen. But not as much as a full-time guard, of course.

Quillary will not run across the necromancer (spoiler). And the single skeletons are hardly worth the effort for her to cast Shillelagh before bashing them into bone dust.)

(OOC: Don't want to interrupt the dialogue, so feel free to backtrack to earlier in the afternoon, if you want.)

The party continues to chit-chat during the excellent dinner prepared by Pascal. (Although there are times when people have to duck when he is waving it around in the air.)

Pascal comments that the chicken dish was good, but perhaps the flavor would have been better with mutton.

At that moment, the front door is pushed open. There is a sound of clattering hooves and some frantic bleating. A sheep walks through the entrance towards the group. The beast appears to be a regular sheep in every way - fluffy white coat, black face, curled horns - but it is carrying an elaborate scroll in its mouth. It looks over the party. It appears more nervous when it sees Pascal dragging his thumb along the edge of the kitchen knife. Then it sees Hildigrim, with a pair of books resting next to his dinner plate. It walks over to him, and shakes its head to wave the scroll near his hand. (The scroll has a wax seal on the outside, with some writing on it.)

Twigroot scuttles behind Quillary’s skirts as the herbivore pushes its way into the common room. She looks up at the curious sight, but barely raises an eyebrow. In fact, she looks expectantly at Hildigrim as if she expects him to know what is going on.

OOC: Does Hildigrim ... recognize the sheep? I'm guessing not, since you didn't mention it.

Hildigrim takes the scroll, but stares at the sheep. "Fascinating." He reaches out to pat the sheep on the head like he would a dog.

Quote from DirtyDogP >>

Hildigrim takes the scroll, but stares at the sheep. "Fascinating." He reaches out to pat the sheep on the head like he would a dog.

None of you are experts in sheep behavior, but it seems to be glaring at Hildigrim with a dirty look when patted on the head.

Drusk asks Hildigrim what is written on the seal. When he says, "Scroll of Speak With Animals (Modified for all spell casters, area of effect)", the sheep bleats loudly and nods its head up and down.

Pascal looks at the scroll, then the group, “Don’t look at me, I don’t speak sheep. I speak Pig Latin.”

Hildigrim shrugs, unrolls the scroll, and reads it. After the spell has taken effect, the halfling clears his throat and asks, "What can we do for you?"

The spell affects everyone at the table, not just Hildigrim. The sheep’s baaing morphs into cultured, elven-accented Common, albeit with a slight hint of a bleat.

(It will be too much work to include it in the dialogue. Just image that every time the sheep is trying to sound imperious, the effect is undercut by the bleating.)

"Aaa-hem... I am Finethir Shinebright, a wizard of might, fame, and greatest ability. I am in dire need of aid, and it is your good fortune to be the ones chosen to restore me. You may call me Finethir Shinebright."

Hildigrim watches the sheep with wide eyes. "Hainard's hairy toes," he says slowly in awe.

Quote from DirtyDogP >>

Hildigrim watches the sheep with wide eyes. "Hainard's hairy toes," he says slowly in awe.

The party can now describe what a sheep looks like when it is smug and pompous. Finethir Shinebright forgets that he is a sheep, and assumes that Hildigrim's awe is from being in his wizardly presence.

Quillary just blinks at the talking sheep. "Do go on, soft and fluffy wizard."