"Seems we either join into this entertainment or find somewhere more secluded to continue our conversation." Ahryman says with raised eyebrows to the others at the table, emptying his glass of wine, then looking at the silver-haired half-elf at his side, realizing he would simply have to go where she went now. "Any preferences my dear Ivy."

Ivy mimics Walfs yelps with soft whimpers of their own over the loss of rolls. She pouts a bit over the sweet casualties. Though, amongst the chaos in the distance Ivy couldn't help but notice the feathered cap on the woman with pretty orange locks. Their head tilts in curiosity over her and blue hues study her. Still clinging onto cambion's tail, Ivy tilts her nose in the air, craning their head in the direction of the woman, sniffing and snooping. She wasn't ignoring Ahryman, she just didn't have a preference to share until her curiosity was satisfied.

(Is the woman participating in the brawl? What is she doing? Has she left? Does it seem like she tried to make this happen? Is it a distraction?)
(Passive perception and insight is 16, but willing to roll if DM calls for it.)

Durnir responds with a chuckles at the new comers disdain to the gods. "Aye, you aren't quite off of the holy men of Crosslands. But it's not like that everywhere. I'm from Beros, originally. People worship Helm there to some extent, but usually it's just lip service and prayers here and there when they need something. And to get healing from any holy man, well, you needed to be pretty well off for that. But then, we were ship wrecked off the coast of Es'verdaiy-el.  Do you know what I saw there. Stalwart protectors of there land, fierce warriors, let down there arms and helped me and my crewmates. They had no need to, they sought no coin. They just wanted to help, using there ma....ahhh...skills the best they can. And, I don't, something in me just was drawn to it, or maybe Helm drew me in. Either way, I stayed, I learned, now I'm back to see what I see. And.... Oy, what's going on there."

Durnir pick up his shield and stand to get a better look. "Ivy, what do you see? You know I'll protect you if needed, but we don't need to go looking for a fight. It's just a good natured bar brawl, nothing unusual here." 

((Same passive perception and insight as Ivy (16), but he's shorter.))

Brynn moves his chair so that he can support the strange dwarf if needed

(( Listening to these conversations, Adaban practices using pronouns like 'I', 'Me', and 'Mine' in sentences... what a strange way to speak! ))

Those of you looking in that direction do see the orange-haired woman's head and shoulders above the crowd, as she appears to have climbed onto the table. She looks thrilled as she jumps off onto the back of one of the men and putting them in a rear naked choke.

The tavernkeeper has now stood up on the bar as he watches the commotion with a parchment pad. You see him shake his head and write something down as a plate is thrown and smashes against the wall.

“Mmmn nah, I wouldn’t give up my cheese snacks to play with those meatheads….” With Durnir’s support, Ivy’s hips would wiggle a little as she ‘meercat’s’ themself from their seat. “But that feathered cap on the other hand might be a bit sus…” Extremely attracted by it, Ivy’s eyes bounce with the feathered hat as they inspect the unfolding situation.Then the silverhaired half-elf ears seem to droop in almost disappointment as things appear to just be a typical brawl. “You’re right Durnir.” She exhales, blowing a raspberry with their lips as they do. “Shall we have a ‘picnic’ in the room to go over our goodies then?” Ivy suggests taking their snacks with them to a safe space to discuss things more freely, like magics, the chest and their treasures.

Walf nods to Ivy's suggestion "Walf take sweet rolls. Fighters fight, Walf eat sweet rolls" Walf gets up and moves to grab some sweet rolls from the others tables while the bar's patrons fight each other and then head up to their rooms to chat.

Brynn stands next to the dwarf to shield Waif and Ive. He motions his head to Ahr to follow them

Ahryman listens and nods at Durnir's story. Admittedly some mortals resisted the corruption of power longer than others, but the rulers of Champagne had since long fallen fully under it's alluring influence and would impose any extent of tyranny on the wielders of magic to cling to their oppressive ways.

As the brawl commences, the blue-skinned cambion swiftly scoops up some sweet rolls from a nearby table to save them from a tragic fate and offers them to the silver-haired half-elf in hopes of seeing a smile on her pretty face again, then picking up his glass, his still half full bottle of exquistite wine and his backpack, following Walf in hopes of continuing the evening with this intriguing group.

Ivy nods along with Walf and hops off their chair, even taking a moment to push it back in. Noticing the protective wall formed between an old friend with a new, they couldn't help but bob with the warmth welling in their chest. She felt protected, safe and surrounded by a caring and loyal pack. A soft mew escapes the half-elf. 

Ivy leans over the one newcomers shoulder, "You remind me a little of our Durnir." She nuzzles Brynn's cheek in an expression of appreciation. She then leans to the dwarf next to him, Durnir, to do the same. "Thank you, Durnir. Don't forget your ale." She chimes before turning to follow loyally behind Walf. "You too Davis!"

Blue hues widen in awe when they're met with sweetrolls presented by Ahryman, almost bumping into him. Ivy bounces in glee. Arms still full with 'their' tail, and refusing to let go, the silvered half-elf hummed and drummed their fingers. Then stops abruptly. She almost used magic. Ivy blinks, shrugs, then frees one hand to load up their arm, still with the blue tail, and their shirt, with as many sweetrolls as she can. Once full, she hugs the abundance to their chest with both arms. After a pause, she then leans forward and bites down onto a sweetroll to take it with them too. Ivy beams up at the newcomer, smiling wide behind the sweet treat. "Fank yuuuu!" She muffles then softens their eyes to be puppy like. "Dun furgit de cheeze peazeeeee." The silver-haired half elf bats their lashes then pivots.

"'ime teh goo!" Ivy pops up on the tips of their toes, stretching themself tall while taking long strides with pointed toes to carry themself through the bar after Walf. Following along with the others, and taking advantage of the tail (Ahryman), guiding them in the right direction if they stray, Ivy refused to take their eyes off the feathered cap, and the woman who wore it, the whole way. Of course she continued to huff the air, sniffing beyond the sweetroll, with the intention of sifting through smells and picking up scent identifiers to commit to memory.

Durnir nods to Brynn and takes up a defensive positions opposite him, to best protect the whole group if the fighting gets close. To the others, he'll say "Do you all have a room we can go to for now? We haven't gotten one yet."

He'll start moving toward Walf and the stairs, trusting this Brynn to take up the rear.  He'll keep an eye on the fighting as he goes, making sure no one was going to sucker punch anyone. 

Once Durner moves Brynn starts withdrawing behind him after placing his shield on his right arm

You're all able to make your way from the dining area up to lodgings in the upper room, swiping some stray sweetrolls of the tables of the distracted brawlers along the way. As you're making your way upstairs, Khione says to the group, " I did reserve some rooms when I arrived earlier - one for Eirlys and I, and one for Davis. I think we could all cram in for now. Maybe once the commotion downstairs is sorted, you could get a room for yourselves if you prefer, or sleep on the floor I suppose." She shrugs.

As it happens, Eirlys has rooms 1 and 3 reserved, and Ahryman has room 4. 

Durnir nods to Khione "Well, lead the way. Then we can discuss things more openly." 

Once they all settle in one of the rooms, Durnir will tell them some more. "So... this stone curse, according to Walf and Ivy, spreads when artifacts are stolen from temples and such. With Helm's gift, I was able to see a strong Necrotic energy on the ship. When we defeated the Stone Cursed, a skull emerged from one of them. We thought that might be the artifact. But from the conversation we were having, I realized I never checked. Now that we are in private, I'll try this again. Thanks for stopping me earlier Walf. I don't know what I was thinking."

Durnir will start the ritual for Detect Magic again. 

(( Adaban stops mid Mountain Pose... Durnir is wearing the ring... Adaban begins to pace nervously while listening to events as they unfold. He wonders, could he escape the ring space if Durnir were turned to stone? What happens if he cannot leave but the ring isn't destroyed? Would he be trapped here for eternity? ))

Brynn leans back onto the door. Watching Durnir with a sense of wonder on his face

Walf smiles at Durnir with a mouth full of sweet rolls

Following the others into one of the rooms Khione got, there finding his way onto a soft bed, the blue-skinned cambion leans back and watches with curiosity as Durnir starts his dwarven chanting. A skull that might be an artifact, how intrguing, this he had to see. As he waits for the dwarf to finish his ritual, Ahryman pours himself another glass of wine and smiles up at the silver-haired half-elf, still wrapped up in his long blue tail. "Do you like tails Ivy?" He asks with a warm chuckle as his golden eyes watches the adorable innocent almost feral half-elven girl playfully hanging on to his appendage.

Humming along with a sweet roll in their mouth, Ivy follows the other into the room. She meanders around, pacing a little, unsure of where she wanted to settle with their hoard of snacks. Still hanging onto Ahryman’s tail, she could only go so far. 

When Durnir would announce he’d be further inspecting the artifact, Ivy hovers in his personal space. She oversees his handling of it to make sure he’s not touching it without protection. Should he reach for it with a bare hand, she’d swat it. “Glove up.” She’d muffle a friendly reminder, then smile from behind their sweet roll. “Handle wit care or Durnir becomes the next stoner.” Once the silverhaired half elf was finally satisfied that he was being safe, she provides him space to begin and complete his ritual in peace. 

After a few moments of circling in one spot, Ivy does a head count then contently plops themself down on the floor next to the bed. Arranging their pile of snacks in their lap, she settles happily in their spot. At Ahryman’s question, Ivy’s head tilts back to look up at him. “Mmhmm. Mmhmm!” She nods adamantly. “I’ve always wanted one.” She admits. “If I study hard enough, Walf says I might even be able to grow my own one day!”