The Orc shakes Oloven's hand, responding in orcish the traditional response, "You may try."

The party sees Ace cast a spell upon the halfling through a pair of goggles.

Wisdom Saving Throw: 21
Orc's Perception Throw to notice you casting the spell: 11

Both the Halfling and the Orc turn to Ace and their demeanor goes cold. The halfling narrows his eyes. He looks Ace up and down, seeing the fine clothes and expensive horse.

"'Honorable,' you are not, sir." He turns to the orc. "Rumblesome, why is it always those who can most afford the cost of something that are the most loathe to pay? Greed is most unbecoming."

He turns to Tor, pointedly looking at the badge of office. "I thank you for your patronage, sir. But I would ask you to do your duty and keep your companions from trying to rob a merchant of his wares."

Incidentally, Tor, it is definitely one of the best stews you've ever had. There almost seems something magical about it, as you find the aches and pains of the road start to slough off, and you feel well rested, despite just sitting down. You gain the benefit of a long rest upon finishing the stew.

The moment Oloven realized what was happening, he smacks Ace hard against the back of the head. He says "Good lord, Ace, are ya so strapped for cash you'd cast a spell on an honest traveler for the cost of a bowl of stew? If you need money that bad, I'll cover the cost." 

He turns to the halfling and says "Terribly sorry for my companion's manners, sir. He hasn't quite learned how it is out here on the road yet. Here, let me offer this as recompense." He hands the halfling not another silver, but a gold piece. "Hopefully, we can forget all that and go on back to becomin' friends." 

"Sorry, I thought the stew might be poisoned or something, so I wanted to find out if he would give it for free. That would have proved it to not be poisonous." Hands over 1gp instead of 1sp for the soup. "Hope you'll forgive me, but I'm quite untrusting of orcs, so I got nervous. Please forgive me."

"Sorry about that. Although you seem to have made a profit..." Tor looks at the two gold coins in front of the halfling. "And he's had a clout for good measure. Maybe we can call it square."

He takes another spoonful. "This is damned good soup. Something in this beyond carrots I'll bet..."

The halfling pockets the coins, but remains guarded and reserved the rest of the night.

He is never rude, but an eavesdropping character may hear him lamenting to his orc companion and partner, Rumblesome, that maybe they shouldn't have come to the uncivilized north and should've stayed in Cormyr. Travelers there might be accosted by monsters or bandits, but there was a shared bond of country that led to better behavior amongst countrymen. The Sword Coast, on the other hand had no such loyalty or goodness, and citizens preyed upon one another.

As they all sit around the fire, Oloven attempts to engage Rumblesome and Mr. Goodbelly in polite conversation, both to mend bridges between the two parties as well as get a sense of whether or not they may be at risk of any sort of retribution in the night. He studies them all evening from behind his mask of joviality. 

"So, what line of work you gentlemen in?" 

22

"Is it not obvious?" says the halfling, gesturing to the cauldron. "We're cooks."

There's seems to be no intention of harm. If anything, they're very hesitant to trust your party.

Oloven is silent a few moments, realizing the enormity of the task of making this evening anything but uncomfortable. Eventually, he says "Ya know, it WAS obvious. But then I thought 'Two gourmets like this, why they could have their choice of the best bistros in Waterdeep for gainful employment, and yet we meet them out here on the open road! So then, my next thought was that these two artists must be out practicing their trade for pure love of the game! But that is my own small-mindedness speakin' and I beg your pardon. A healthy business can look like anything so long as you have satisfaction in the work. We all consider ourselves truly blessed to have stumbled upon your cart tonight, don't we fellas? Yessir. Say, which way you two headed? We're makin' our way down to Leilon ourselves. If you're comin' up from that way, have ya heard much news?" 

Tor won't say anything in front of the two travellers or the rest of the group, but if Ace goes off at any point Tor will follow him. Once they're out of earshot he'll say:

"Listen. My job here is to keep you safe, apparently that includes saving you from yourself. I don't want another stunt like that with the glasses this trip, you hear me? Everyone we meet is a potential ally or potential enemy, and you've strongly tipped the scales in one direction here. I don't care about your reasons. At some point this evening you are going to give those two a proper apology that doesn't include the words 'I thought you were trying to poison us' or 'I hate orcs'. And tomorrow, you're going to be less of a bloody liability."

Ace mutters "Yeah, yeah, sure." before stumbling off back to camp. He half-heartedly offers an apology for his rudeness, and then walks off to camp, going to bed.

Brother Sigi gives the Halfling a crown for the stew... then tosses another as a tip after tasting how delicious it is.  "My compliments to the chef."

He retires with pleasant wishes to the others, makes sure Barley is secured for the night and prepares his bedroll for some sleep.  If asked, he will participate in a watch, but he trusts the more martially inclined folk to make such arrangements.

In response to Oloven, the halfling says, "We are headed to Neverwinter. A friend of ours invited us to come work in his restaurant. We haven't been through Leilon. We came by way of Triboar. But all the way from the Triboar trail up to here we haven't come across anything but other travelers... Though, there's something in the air besides this chill. Some ill omen. I'll be happy to be in Neverwinter with big strong walls between us and the monsters outside."

Oloven takes a deep breath in through his nose, and says "You may be right, my friend. Then again, you might just be smellin' Torel here."

Oloven gives Tyrel a friendly jab on the arm, then continues "I do appreciate the warning, Mr. Goodbelly, and we'll take it to heart. With that in mind, why don't y'all get some rest? I'll take first watch. Why, with my belly full, I feel like I could ride another fifty miles tonight! But I can't imagine Daisy would agree." 

Oloven stands up and stretches out, then steps into the darkness. As he passes past the edge of the fire's light, someone watching him go would see that he doesn't seem just to fade into the darkness but to truly disappear in an instant, like the dark had just swallowed him up. (Using the shadowstep ability to vanish like BATMAN!) 

Oloven re-corporates (?) high in a tree, where he has a good view of the area. He silently takes a moment to center himself, casting pass without trace on himself, then settles into his perch. 

Stealth: 28

When he is satisfied that he's made himself as invisible as possible, he gets to the business of watching. 

Perception: 10

Tor returns to the fire in time for Oloven to claim first watch. He would have preferred to claim it himself, bandits being the type to stay up late rather than rise early, but the half-orc had proven himself observant on the journey so far, and Tor has no qualms about trusting him to alert them should anything untoward catch him attention. Besides, Oloven had already disappeared into the shadows, before the gentlest of rustlings in a nearby tree, and then nothing.

That's a neat trick, thinks Tor. Must be a monk thing.

"I'll take second watch," he states to the remaining travellers. "Mr Rumblesome, you're not part of our troupe but we're all sleeping here under the same... roof." He says hesitantly as he surveys the rough shelter. "Would you agree to take last watch?"

The orc agrees, and the night passes uneventfully. When you wake up the halfling and orc have already broken down their camp, repacked their gear, and hitched their oxen to their covered wagon.

*YAAAAAaawn* "OK guys, I'ma be right back." Walks off into the woods.

Tor is tucking into a ration pack for breakfast. "Stay within earshot. If anything happens to you I need to hear the scream."

Oloven wakes infuriatingly chipper, which you’re finding may just be his default state. “Mornin’ gentlemen! Boy oh boy, did I sleep great. Somethin’ different about lying out beneath the open sky, I tell ya. And Mr. Goodbelly, Mr. Rumblesome, restin’ full on such fine vittles did a world’s good as well. It was a pleasure to meet you both and to enjoy such world class hospitality. I hope your final day on the road is smooth and that your time at your friend’s place is everything you hoped.” 

Oloven doesn’t eat breakfast with the others, electing instead to go through a rather impressive looking series of stretches and exercises, during which he engages in an extended monologue to his horse standing nearby, apparently continuing the work of building trust in the animal. When he’s completed the stretches, he takes out a couple large carrots, feeding one to Daisy and eating one himself. 

After making sure the Tor is awake, Rumblesome and Merthin Goodbell nod to the party, slightly less cold than they were last night, and set off. "Fare you well on your journey to Leilon," the halfling calls behind him as the oxen slowly trundle off, pulling the covered wagon.

When you are ready to head out, please roll a nature or survival check.