(Shit)

Can Eldin save the broken Drow by casting Cure Wounds? He will tie the drow up with more rope before casting it though.

Eldin prevents the drow's death, mending his broken form.

The drow is alive, tied up and unarmed right?

(Right)

Eldin asks the drow, "Alright. What are you doing here?"

Wilhelm walks through town admiring the beauty of the arena and writing in his book as he goes along

The arena, in all it's bloodshed splendor, is a sight to behold! The finest of warriors fight here, and our hero Wilhelm, is a hopeful combatant.

He then continues on to the nearest establishment to acquire some refreshment after his long journey

Eldin, the drow glares at you, but doesn't speak

"So you're silent huh? Considering your situation, I believe it would be in your best interest to talk. The lovely elf with me can turn into a T-Rex so you probably don't want to get on our bad side. I wish you'd reconsider before things got a bit more... messy. "

Persuasion: 18

(Wow, that was perfect.)

Grianne glares silently at the drow.

Eldin, the drow sighs and responds, "My companion and I, represent something like the local law enforcement in our home. We came to investigate claims that the Hunter, Shmitty Jackson, was killed in the arena here. That was before you, and this creature attacked us. It looks like at least three people have been in this camp in the last 24 hours before us. Someone dug something up. Someone else walked through spreading false tracks. Someone's hiding something, which is suspicious from a dead man to say the least."

Eldin says, "I see. I believe there has been some misunderstanding between us. Shmitty Jackson did indeed die in the arena. I know this because I saw it happen with my own eyes. As for why we attacked you, me and my companion were out hunting." Eldin points to the tracks (I believe these were the "false" tracks left by Banjo) and says, "We found these tracks and wondered who could possibly be out in the forest. These tracks led us to this camp. We thought you guys were raiding some poor hermit's home so we attacked." He then looks around the camp and then at the other people here (or at least pretends to). "If all of us came here, could it be possible that the three people that have been here are hunters or rogues that stumbled on to this camp? You did say it was Shmitty Jackson's camp so I'm guessing it's been abandoned since he met his untimely demise."

(Wait, does that make Banjo the new owner of the Greycastle Lounge?)

(No because there is still Baryk GREYCASTLE as the owner.)

(Guess assassination is an option...)

((Assassination is always an option))

After awakening from his latest lost virtually untouched, Gell bids his stirring former teammates a curt goodbye before storming out of the arena. As he goes, passing shadows waver and seem drown in the wake of the masked man, only to snap back in place after a few feet. Almost as if the whole affair had been but an illusion. 

>Poor, poor little guardian. Lost one fight because he got arrogant. And then another for being too cautious.<

Gell freezes in place at an alleyway, the blood in his veins growing cold just beneath the skin. Cold enough that even his unique heritage offered no protection. He looks into the gloom of the alleway, realizing for the first time... his gaze couldn't penetrate the darkness.

>We guess this what he gets for bringing a half-breed into the fold. What a waste!<

He looks to his surroundings to see if anyone else seemed to notice. But they continue on in their hurried way. Even the urchin -- who Gell had been too slow to react to -- had ducked into the alleyway unconcerned about the dread and unnatural darkness clinging to its walls.. At that point Gell's grip starts to tighten to the point he visibly began to tremble for a few seconds, and then... he stops, letting out a long, drawn out sigh. Wordlessly, he set his sights on whatever passed for a merchant district in the city.

>... Or maybe there is hope for you yet, Aldym. Maybe... you just need a bit... more. Maybe its time we finally talked.<

As the cold returned, so did a multitude of voices, feelings, memories -- none of them were his, and yet he knew them to be otherwise. Before darkness consumed his vision one last time that evening, he could've sworn he saw the simple wooden staff begin to squirm and blacken as if something was burning it from the inside....

While the mind was away, the body continued on walking from another alleyway he sought to cut time in passing through. Someone matching Gell's description made several purchases and overtures for certain armaments and the like. But the delivery of words was always monosyllabic or frosty. Ultimately, he was always brisk, and before long... he is gone.

For the DM:

(I'm down for some assassination. Got a lot to work out now.)

Eldin roll Deception or Persuasion.

Deception: 18