Grudnik watches the exchange between the barkeep and the bugbear with interest. This bugbear was doing a good job at keeping his temper, for now.

But the person in front of him was also a curious one. He hadn't seen someone of there like before, with mismatched skin and the scarring. Not wanting to cause offence he didn't mention it. "Have you come across such spirits before then?", he asks. "I will confess that I am intrigued, but usually require payment for dealing with issues"

Sanctity thinks about the question a bit, not wanting to reveal anything.  Partially out of paranoia and partially on thier patron’s behalf. “I cannot say that I have, but I am intested in seeing if it’s true.”

deception 13

When Tom approaches Brenward, the man smiles in greeting and says "Have a seat, I'd enjoy the company. My name is Eldin, Eldin Phillander. Have you been in this little town for long, or another new arrival?"

Grudnik looks at Amihan, a spell casting monk was of interest, and one who knew of spirits. “And is that spell capable of removing a spirit from this world?”

As he talks he throws a glance over his shoulder, he wasn’t sure if the barkeep had spotted the threat from the bugbear. A blessing of Hruggek more often than not meant someone’s head on a spear! And yet she continued to goad them. He shakes his head and sighs.

”Excuse me one moment”, he says to Amihan as he holds a finger up and walks to the bar. “Do you have a problem with goblinkin, or are you rude to all visitors to this village?”, he asks the barkeep directly.

The Veldalken cook is the only one who paid actual attention to Grudnik, and he, consequently, shook the barmaid to get her attention to the Hobgoblin. The cook whispers something to her and she eye-rolls. She smiles a bit as she takes in what the Veldelkan said.

"An' who are you?" She looks Grudnik, "Are ya ... anuther goblin askin' me specific-like question if I have a problem with goblins?" 

Most of the drunk barmen go silent, chuckling over the aggressive words, as they watch the encounter.

"Ya know, it's a just-a wonder' dat ya kin even gut into dis city! Ya'd probably try to greed-up gold from the town guards!" She gets up from her chair and walks past Grudnik and around the bar, collecting empty cups and cleaning up, "Ya best be goin' if ya gonna act like some smartie folk, the library is up the street..." the barmaid pauses "Right. Next. To. The. Barracks."

At this point, almost all the drunken are laughing out loud, their giggles seem to only propel the bar's mood.

Sanctity watches the exchange.  They were hoping this place would be different and tolerant to other beings.  They hide thier annoyance and tries to diffuse the situation.  “Excuse me m’am but can you give me directions to the libary?”

Once they get the directions they pocket them and gently taps on Grudnik’s shoulder.  “I think it’s best if we leave this place. Maybe we can find a more tolerant place elsewhere.”  Sanctity says it quiet enough for the barmaid not to hear.

Stann storms out of the tavern, the drunks laughter ringing in his ears. Despite the cold and lack of winter clothes, he felt fire running through his veins. The urge to rip the elf's throat with his teeth was near overwhelming. 'is land could use a few less elves.

He stood rooted in place entertaining all manner of vengeance, the dark figure a stark contrast to the festive lights of the street...

Grudnik stays very calm, chillingly calm in fact, and looks around the tavern at the laughing locals. "Small minded people from a small minded village", he says calmly, yet loud enough to cut through the laughter. "Thank you all for showing me my kin", he points at the door where the bugbear retreated, "is more civilised than I gave him credit for. I pity each one of you, and have no appetite to stay here amongst such people".

He looks to Sanctity and Amihan. "Yes, somewhere more tolerant would be more pleasant", he says before turning back to the crowd. "Any that line this bigots pocket should take a good hard look at themselves", he says motioning towards the barkeep, and with that he exits the tavern.

He stands outside for a moment cooling down in the cold air, before looking at the Bugbear and speaking in goblin, "It's people like those that make a goblin kin want to live up to their reputation". He laughs, releasing the nervous energy he had held throughout the encounter.

"Flay 'em alive, that'll fix their thinkin'" Stann growled into the night, "an their uppity mugs".  The tavern had left him in a mood for violence, but rearranging something's anatomy wouldn't well suit his purposes. Gotta keep 'yer head down, least fer ah bit.

Slowly the bugbears wit began to return and he looked around the street, taking in his surroundings.

Perception: 11

Seeing around the town, there are a few things that come out of the blue; A trading-flea market style town square, the barracks, rudely described by the barmaid to you, and the library, with a small printed sign on the front. The sign reads in Dwafish; Cultural Library.

The snow prints every footsteps, it crunchs and whimpers to the dim blue lights, which seem to not care of the snow's turmiol. Chlidren are playing with a leather ball in the outskrits of the small town; Each smiling with warm, red noses and cheery faces as their parents watch from a wooden bench. There seems to be nothing more of interest.

Sanctity opens the door and leaves the tavern.  They turn to the hobgoblin.  "I thought this town was more tolerant to ...others because you goblinoids were in there.  It seemed I was incorrect."   

They briefly lift their hood and show their face, full of scars and mismatched flesh, briefly before putting the hood back on,.  "I do not have the luxury to judge others based on looks.  I somewhat envy her, at least she is not likely to be kicked out of a civilized place just because of how they look."  Sanctity looks at the hobgoblins reaction, prepared to get hit or yelled at.

Instead of sitting at Brenward's invitation, Tom indicates they should stand together. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Eldin. I am also a newcomer, though I doubt I'll stay long. I'm a traveller of sorts, trying to see as much of the world as I can." Tom laughs and gestures to the door where the goblinoids had just left. "I don't know if you've noticed, but it looks as though we aren't the only newcomers in town. Now, I know we've only just met, but I find that following that sort of raucous crew is a pretty good way to see some things beyond the surface level. Would you be interested in joining me in following them?" 

Whether or not Brenward follows, Tom will then proceed to exit the building quietly and follow the others wherever they may go, though discreetly. (Of course, should Brenward choose not to follow, Tom will say goodbye kindly!)

To follow quietly: 13

Stann regards the thing standing before him, the dim light did nothing to hide the patchwork of flesh. When he spoke, there was a telltale hint of curiosity "I've dropped prettier stiffs in the river then you's. But yer's ain't the ugliest mug I've laid eyes on". There was a faint scent of decay about the stranger, not the stench of new death but of something near preserved. Hells, it's a step up from most the kissers in this tow---

An unexpected touch sends his hand down to the head of his maul on his belt. Spinning to face this new threat the brute finds another oddity before him. The genasi's words sounded more like a song carried on the wind than speech. The bugbear blinked slowly in confusion forgetting the elf, the fancy hobgoblin, even the dead thing behind him.

Sanctity lets the goblinoid think that they are undead for now. “And fresher too, I bet.  If I am not the ugliest thing you have seen then I’d like to know who or what.”

 Sanctity looks at the air genasi, initially taking them for a part djinn, but says nothing about the genasi’s potential heritage.  “Trust me my appearance is nothing to be proud of.   You are lucky, if funny looks is all you get.”

Grudnik regards the group around him. A bugbear, a genasi and what he can only describe as a man of many flesh. It was an odd assortment, and yet they had come together in diversity.

"Each of your deeds just now shows your character, which is a truer reflection of your worth than outward appearance", he says philosophically mulling over Amihan's words. "I thank you both", he says to Sanctity and Amihan, "you do us honour", he motions to Stann and himself.

"And you", he says to Stann, "showed great restraint. It was as impressive a sight as one of your kind in battle".

Flattery will get you everything, he thought, and right now allies seemed to be what he needed if the experience in the tavern was anything to judge by.

"I am Grudnik", he says placing his hand on his chest.

Stann looks about the group. "A real motley crew, hope you's ain't hoping to be blendin' in with the raffle round here." He suddenly looked earnest, "Any of you's gots any work lined up? M' name's Stann and I'm handy in scuffle." His coin purse was getting light, and he hadn't seen much game around these parts worth hunting. It wouldn't hurt to play nice.

Sanctity is unsure about Grudnik or the air genasi, both use pretty words. They were looking for more of a reaction. Stann seemed like a type of person who speaks his mind, even if a bit rough around the edges.  Since thier olf master doesn’t know the name they forged for themselves they see no reason to hide it.

”I have been called many things, but I prefer Sanctity.  Sanctity 4. “

”There is apparently a ghost drowning people at the fountian, but I think only coin we will get if from the fountian itself.”

"A ghost you say?"

A voice spoke behind the stitched man, sounding as if a small child. The dusk sets at a pale moonlight shine over neath our characters, as the trading square sets quiet and the children return home to their parents. The blue light flickers and gasps for some sort of energy; few die off, others survive ... for now.