Coljin shrinks his metallic armor down to a heavy shiny silver budgie smuggler/codpiece, but with a bit of practice, is able to control it to cover what he does or doesn't want covered. He's able to make it into a very heavy bracelet to provide cleansing access to the places that require it, if needed, though that leaves only one hand for scrubbing.

((Anything else folks are wanting to do with their evening? Otherwise, I'll take a d12 roll from someone.))

6

Coljin is ready.

((Dornikal is ready to go.))

You make camp, and pass a pleasant evening various among you tending to your pet projects, from rehabilitating former 'bird hunters', to performing and writing, to soaking in the wild of the forest before the imminent entrance to a large city. The crew you're traveling with informs you that you should reach the city by mid afternoon, and as you descend out of the foothills, you can see it in the far distance across a grassy plain that becomes more patchwork closer to the city, farms and agriculture to support it clustering around its flanks.

Randy looks thoughtfully at the city, takes out the spell masquerade  tattoo needle, rolls up his sleeve, and applies it to his left forearm.  He casually asks Hank, "Do you think we'll have any trouble from your former associates?"

Dornikal pauses to judge the city, looking for and outward signs of change since he was there last.

((It's been a couple years at this point, and even longer in RL, but he did spend six (?) months proselytizing there.))

It's a bit tough to tell at this distance, but the city comes more into view as you travel closer and closer.

To the north of the city, built on a wide seastack is a building associated with the Torfelna Academy. While the main campus grounds are located within the city proper, at some point in centuries past the school acquired the remains of the large edifice and had converted it to a repository of knowledge. It has some official name you don't recall, but the locals casually referred to it as 'Scrollkeep'. Prior to the time you had spent in the city, it had sustained damage... lightning strike, or fire, or something and the western wing had been shrouded in scaffolding and sailcloth while being repaired. You're not able to make out anything on that side of the building, so it's likely been fixed up at this point. 

There are a few other minor works and projects as you get closer, enough to give a sense and indication to Dornikal that the city has been doing well enough to see to its own upkeep and maintenance. It's been 3-4 years since you were last in the city, and as you see its familiar outline, you wonder how the small chapel to Dumanthoin has fared in your absence. While in Estmont, you were able to get regular correspondence, but after you moved further south and were on the other side of the civil unrest in Krovesh and the steamy jungles of Krelpo, the communication became spotty at best. Last you'd heard was more than a year ago, they were on the cusp of outgrowing the converted storeroom, and were looking for a larger place. You'd been decently well off at the time, and had sent some funds from your coffers to contribute to spreading the good word of the Silent Keeper.

Hank responds to Randy, "Essilar is who brought us on... sort of subcontractors, as it were. Don't think he'd have had any cause to mention us to whoever he was reporting to. Least, I hope not."

"Hmmm. Hopefully not.  Try not to get too far from the rest of the party, though.  Since Essilar didn't come back, his guild mates may want to ask someone about his whereabouts and start asking around for information."

Randy finishes his tattoo work, and once he's sure he can do so without messing something up, he rolls his sleeve down to cover it.  He then calls the panther over to him and rests his hand on it's head and scratches it's ears to make clear to anyone watching of his ownership of the beast. 

Hank chews on his lower lip a bit. "Seems like if they learn that, they might want to angle in on your dragonborn friends before he can get things established. What's that... tattoo thing for?"

"Let's call it an 'ace up my sleeve' in case things get unpleasant.  And as long as they treat the dragonborn fairly, I'm not too picky about WHO is handling their trade.  I'm rather counting on Essilar using his contacts as a matter of fact.  Until they've had a chance to become a real city state, fully capable of defending themselves against other states, I'd prefer to keep things on the quiet side for them."

Hank nods, Randy's words making good sense.

Dornikal sends a prayer to Dumathoin as they approach, thanking Him for the (relatively) uneventful travel.

He will then turn to instructing his young (to a dwarf) apprentice on the masonry of the city and buildings as they get close enough to discern it.

"Solid work, but ye'll see they got sloppy over in the edge there, ye see the seam? Aye'd wager a repair job by an a novice, if that. Mortar is crumbly up top after only a few years. This is what aye'd have done-"

Ulmwin seems excited to explore these new lands, but keeps the excitement mostly to himself for the time being. It seems he's trying to take up some quick sketches of the city whilst he's at it. They're not amazing sketches as his forte is clearly in playing his lute and writing, but one can only practice. He's gotta remind himself to get some proper charcoal for it once he's in the city.

Coljin walks close with Ulmwin to watch as he sketches, "I am impressed with your skills, I knew you were musical, but I did not know you could draw, too.  We've all known each other for a long time and yet we still learn new things."

The cleric doesn't seem as thrilled as some of the others at coming to a city, but he does know the usefulness of lots of stores and inns.  "I'm looking forward to a hot bath, some stores, and just hope that the sewers in this city are not unkept and the whole thing doesn't stink."

"You call these drawings?" Ulmwin seems to ask in earnest as he holds up one of the sketches. It's more than passable, but definitely far from perfect. The gnome is probably just overly critical to himself if anything. 

"But no, I've come to the habit of chronicling our adventures, and there are some sights words cannot do justice. Neither can these sketches, but they might fuel imagination a bit more." 

Later he just comments "I hope these sewers don't have a spatial rift in them." 

As the party discusses their hopes for what the city of Torfelna will or won't be, the wagons rumble onward. The main roadway runs roughly north and south, perpendicular to your approach, but you join in on a smaller roadway that winds through the agricultural fields surrounding the city walls. Your wagons eventually join in on the main roadway south of the city, and you turn northward and join with others approaching the city, and some number coming in the opposite direction.

The tan walls are generally well constructed and maintained, but Dornikal's trained eye spots what is likely to be a spot soon to be on the list for upcoming repairs. 

The large wooden gates are open, allowing free passage in and out, the guards in attendance seem to be there more to help direct traffic and provide a visible presence to soothe any potential complaints or conflicts before they arise, they are not stopping or questioning anyone. A dark skinned fellow gives Brucho a grin and raises a questioning eyebrow.

"Success!", the boisterous monster hunter confirms.

Once through the gates, Kayleera trots her horse up to the party. "We've gotta see these bits and pieces to the guildhouse and then on to the clients. I'm assuming you're looking for an inn? The Crown and Saddle is a popular place, clean sheets, hot baths. Priced for tourists though. The Fillet'd Back can get a bit rowdy, but if you like seafood, there's none better for the price. Rooms are small, but tidy. If you're looking for a more homey feel, Evelyn's would be the place, as long as you don't mind a doting adoptive aunt during your stay."

Not even giving the others time to put there two coppers in, Coljin's eyes light up when Kayleera describes Evelyn's inn.  "That's the one!  Evelyn's is what we need.  Which direction is it?"

((Dornikal probably spent most of his time here last in the back of someone's shop or in a storeroom so he's probably not going to add to the list, even if he knows of some others.))

Dornikal's nose wrinkles at the mention of seafood,

"Evelyn's sounds nice."

The dwarf agrees.