After his relaxing bath, Thurodim is handed the key to the room by Verity as he heads towards the stairs. "It's the door on the mezzanine, middle floor, only one, you can't miss it," she informs you.
As you enter you see something very similar to the description of the upstairs rooms, though, there are two beds in this room, and they are both very large, around 8 feet in length. They sit on either side of the room, and across the room from the door. After you walk in and pass out a halfling girl poles her head around the door and says "Light your... oh," as she sees you fast asleep and snoring. She giggled a little, then shuts the door to leave you in peace.
Illithir, apologies for taking so long to respond about your history checks. Reminiscing on your tutoring in your early years, and your more recent travels, you think on the fact that these two women are trying to get to Mazemouth. You have accompanied patrons and clients there a few times, and know it as a large town on the mouth of the river Maze, hence the name. It is led by Baron Ogilvy Macefield, a human in his 60s, and although the Baronies are not technically hereditary, it is well known that in due course his son Thorold is most likely to be chosen as successor. It is an old, successful port town, providing a link between north and south Lindost, as well as to the Dwarven lands of Dharbek and the wilds of the Ambermane Hills. However it has struggled a little in the last two centuries following the mysterious fall of Sumarstow, as the coastal town benefited from the wealth of the glittering city.
Your patrons have largely been above board, their businesses legal, so your knowledge of the underworld of Mazemouth is quite limited, certainly lacking in any detail, but almost everyone who has passed through there has heard of The Ghost - a criminal who specialises in burglary. The most valuable items in the city under the most seemingly impregnable defences, nothing is safe from them. Nobody knows how they do it, or who they are, but they have been operating in Mazemouth for close to three decades now, surfacing every few years to pull off another impossible heist.
Ghurr, though the door is closed to keep in the warmth against the night air, a window gives you a pretty uninhibited view of the courtyard and the stable.
Perception: 6. The new moon is approaching, will be here in a couple of days, and the night outside is dark. Outside the little bubble of light emanating from the inn windows it is almost impossible to see anything. However, for the time you are there, nothing crosses your field of vision within the light. Beyond that, you can't be certain. Inside the inn, the three tailors eventually go up to their rooms. The dwarf and the human continue their conversation in urgent, hushed tones you are unable to make out, before eventually they too retire. Verity and the Halfling girl clean and tidy, until they appear to be finished. Verity speaks to you, no need to call out to get your attention, everything here is silent now. "I appreciate you keeping an eye out, but don't stay up too late!"
Ghurr watches for a little longer but with the inn locked up for the night he decides that there probably isn't any need to keep watch. He makes his way up to the room he will share with Thurodim. Seeing the big warrior sleeping, Ghurr just nods.
He grabs the mattress of his bed, lays it out in front of the door and goes to sleep on it there. If anyone is going to come through this door in the night, they will have to move his bulk at the same time.
Mala: You focus, and use your connection to the land to expand your awareness. Is there something here which has no right to be here? Thankfully you detect nothing, one less thing to worry about as you fall asleep. It's still a little strange to sleep in a bed rather than a hammock, and to not feel the tilt of the ship and the creak of the hull, but it has been a particularly long, tiring day, and sleep easily finds you.
I would just like to hear about Illithir before I move things forward, though I am myself going to bed now, so it will be during the day tomorrow.
He returned to his seat and took the dinner trying to push the remarks of the dwarf away from his mind. An ultimately fruitless effort. The elf could not help but to find a sense of familiarity with Ghuur. He too had been categorized, judged and damned for his appearance. And he hated that. Like few things on the world. As the others spoke about their pasts he remained in silence, his face showing interest on nothing beyond the food on his plate.
When Faera mentioned Mazemouth the first thing the silver haired remembered was the name of Baron Ogilvy Macefield. The city was a strong trade center and that enough was reason enough for the horseless crew or anyone else to go there. Legal or not the area was full of business, not that he knew much about what happened outside of the law. He heard about the Ghost, but everyone heard about the Ghost. Maybe I should take shadier contracts once in a while. One could never have too much information, after all.
“It is time I follow the example of my friends.” Ilithir said to Verity, retreating to his room. There he doffed his armor in a fifth of the time it would normally take, and took his sheathed sword from the belt. Putting his backpack to rest by the bed he hid under the sheets, blade by his side. That should avoid any surprise, the elf thought before drifting into sleep.
So ends your first full day together. Harpies, trolls, potential conspiracies - a lot has happened in a short space of time. And who are these people with whom you find yourselves traveling - colleagues? Acquaintances? Friends already? The possibilities of this new stage in your life spin around your heads, though most of you are far too tired for them to keep you awake.
Faera:
You don't require sleep in the same way as the others. Your four hour meditation is enough to refresh you and replenish your energy. So you are able to stay awake a while longer, reading and thinking while the candle burns lower. Eventually you give yourself over to the trance, and walk through images of your past.
You stand in a courtyard open to the sky, attached to the side of a tall tower complex. Through elegant, pale pillars you can just see over the tops of trees in a large, old forest. You know this place, the martial training yard in Emel Mindol. It's a beautiful summer day - the air is warm, but the altitude keeps the breeze fresh. You're here early to train by yourself, you always were, that's part of how you got so good. But this day you took a few minutes to walk through the pillars and stand at the edge of the long balcony that encircles the yard. Behind you the main tower, behind that the Angocanelci Mountains stretch away to either side, while before you the Ornost Silna forest goes all the way to the horizon, the treetops moving in the breeze like waves on the sea.
In fact, it looks very much like the sea, the longer you look. The sound around you becomes less the rustling of branches in wind, and more like the crashing of waves. Mists roll in on this beautiful summer day, and the sky clouds over. This isn't right, this is a memory and you know this didn't happen. The treetops seem far below you now, looking down you can see them break and reform as they crash against the sides of the tower, not now the smooth pale stone you know, but rough and rocky. This isn't right, this isn't my memory!
A deep, soundless voice calls out to you then, from across the forest, the ocean, and it calls your name. "Faera." Then it calls one more word. "Come." You find yourself walking forward, the balustrade has melted away, and you approach the open cliff edge. You hold your arms out wide and lean forward, and just as you begin to fall
You wake up. It's dark, and cold wind bites at you, as you stand at the edge of the Cliffs of Soft in your night clothes, looking out over the Ousefid Sea. A few dozen yards behind you is the Eagle's Flight, still dark inside, while far away to your right, the west, a faint glow on the horizon tells you it is almost sunrise. Hopefully no one else is up yet, and you will have time to return to your room unnoticed.
Sunlight through your windows is enough to wake those of you who haven't naturally woken early. A bowl and a jug of water sit in your room allowing you to wash if you want, and eventually you make your way downstairs. The smell of various cooking foods fills your nose as, one by one, you join a table in main room.
Thurodim wakes up after a long and restful sleep, noticing Ghurr sleeping soundly by their door. Not wanting to wake up his big furry friend, the half-orc takes a moment to quietly wash his face before returning to the big bed, looking out through the window, pondering what adventures the team will have this day.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Faera gasps as the realization washes over her. What did it all mean? She doesn't sleep walk! No matter, no time to contemplate this now, she needs to get back inside. She retreats quickly from the edge of the Cliffs of Soft, careful not to slip and make a bad morning worse.
She looks up to the Inn as she approaches, wondering if she should attempt a back door to help her slip back inside. Worried that it might be locked and waste more time, she decides to head for the front door as fast as she can and head back to her room. She goes as quickly and quietly as she is able.
Passing through the courtyard there is just enough light from the soon-to-rise sun to see the charred remains of the troll, removed from the stable and burned. You can also see that, while your cart was one of three vehicles parked around the stable, only two remain - your own empty cart, and one solid wagon. Clearly someone has already left while it was still dark.
Thankfully they appear to have left the front door unlocked. You are able to creep silently back upstairs to your room. As you open your own door, another door down the corridor also opens towards you, but you are able to quickly get in and close your door before whoever it is can round theirs. They don't see you, and you don't see them, but through the wood of the door you can hear the confident pace of someone making an early start.
Mala rises with the sun, washes quickly, then goes downstairs. Not seeing any of her other companions, she asks for a small breakfast while she waits for the others.
Faera sits back on the bed in her room and thinks about how in the world did she end up at the Cliffs Edge? What had happened during the day that could possibly result in such an outcome? It didn't make sense. And her dream? The parts she remembers... it was a place she knew, felt comfortable, but towards the end it wasn't right.. there was a mist..
Ah man! This wasn't helping and they had a job to do. She jumped off the bed, got dressed, quickly scrubbed her face and headed downstairs to have breakfast with the others. While they eat, she is uncharacteristically stoic and silent.
Mala greets the others as they join in the breakfast. At Ghurr's comment to Diggory, she nods in agreement. "Yes, we should go as soon as all have finished eating," she offers, basically done herself already and eager to move on. She glances to Faera a couple of times, wondering at her silence, but figures it best to leave her alone.
"Too nice? Haven't heard that before Ghurr."Thurodim says with a deep chuckle, getting out of bed and following his big furry friend downstairs, bringing his gear, the stairs creaking a bit under the weight of the two massive warriors. "Sleep well?" He asks Mala and Faera as he carefully sits down by the breakfast table, immediately digging into it and not really waiting for an answer, making sure Mr. Bleeches gets his breakfast too as the pocket mouse sits on the table by the half-orc, nibbling along on some cheese. Thurodim simply nods as the others start talking about leaving. "Where is Ilithir?" He grunts after a while, chewing on some egg, bacon and sausages.
Mala, you are actually the first one downstairs, before even Verity. On the top corridor you think you hear the click of a door just as you leave your room, but all the rooms are closed, and your hear no further movement. Your imagination perhaps.
Verity does appear shortly, and assures you breakfast will be ready very soon, once her husband gets his backside into the kitchen! While you wait, and as food is brought out on request, the others of your group start to arrive downstairs and join you.
Eggs, bacon and sausages are indeed there, as well as thick buttered slices of bread with a hard, crumbly cheese, sharp with a hint of sweetness, and bowls of oatmeal (or porridge depending on where you're from).
As you all gather, the three tailors from Whitebridge also come down to the main room and break their fast. As their meal draws to a close Darriel, the young human, is sent out to prepared the wagon.
He returns a few minutes later, bursting through the door to shout "Luca's gone! And so is the other wagon! They took Luca!"
Thurodim's forehead furrows as he realizes the desperate women from last night most likely are the culprits. If they only could have accepted help instead of solving their problems through simple theft, but perhaps that was something they were used to. He wants to help the men but is not sure quite how. The stolen wagon might not have gone far though. As usual when decisions like these are to be made he turns to Mala for guidance, looking at his clever crewmate with an uncertain look, scratching his head and shrugging over what to do, before taking another bite of a juicy sausage.
Ghurr picks up his gear, an extra couple of sausages and heads out to the courtyard and the stable. Was the 'other' wagon, their wagon?
He takes a look to see what's missing, and then around the courtyard. He's not an investigator and doesn't even think to look for clues. If he sees an actual dwarf taking a horse away, that he'll look more closely at.
He woke as the first pallid fingers of daylight crossed the window, his hand moving instinctively towards his blade. Silent, the weapon was a reassuring proof that nothing more happened. At least nothing more that threatened him directly, tried to kill him. Considering the day before, Ilithir counted the fact as a victory.
Leaving the bed, the elf focused on maintaining his gear. He polished shield, armor, longsworad, dagger and the leaden crystal that served as his spell focus. Before long it was the time of the orb. It was a small thing of brass, etched with looping lines and runes he didn’t knew. What are you? The silver haired man asked with the voice of his mind as memories of when he received it flooded his thoughts.
With the sphere failing to answer his question, Ilithir decided to don his armor and climb down for a breakfast. He arrived as Ghurr left for the courtyard carrying some food. The gentle giant seemed in a hurry.
“What happened?” He asked approaching the table where is cohorts seem to have been eating. “There seems to be some kind of commotion going on?”
Not a dull moment at The Eagle's Flight, he thought looking around and waiting for anyone to give him an answer.
Mala nods to Thurondim when he first comes down. "Good morning. Yes, I slept fine, thank you." She frowns a bit as Mr. Bleeches sits on the table eating. She gives the half-orc a quick look but decides to say nothing. Though she can't imagine the proprietors are going to be too happy about rodents in their establishment.
As the young human comes back inside, she pushes her chair back, standing to turn to him. "Who is this Luca?" she asks. "Are you saying your wagon is gone?" She takes a few steps towards him as she awaits his response.
Thurodim is too into his own breakfast eating to notice Mala's disapproving glances towards Mr. Bleeches, but eventually the massive half-orc pockets the pocket mouse again.
"Someone stole a horse and a cart." Thurodim explains to Ilithir. "And good morning." He adds with a quick smile.
As Mala stands up, so does Thurodim, taking a quick stride to stand quietly behind his smaller crewmate, ready to assits her.
“Good morning and not our cart?” He asked Thurodim, noticing his choice of words. Ilithir liked to think of himself as open-minded, and there was good reason for the law, in the most advanced places, to consider one innocent until proven otherwise and beyond reasonable doubt. Yet he could not help but imagine that the two women of the night before were the responsible for the theft. Despair, lack of manners, aggressive action. They had motive and, for lack of better term, the courage to do that. Everyone would arrive at the same conclusion soon enough.
Whatever the case, he thought, they shouldn’t be more than a few hours ahead. Towards a certain Mr. Flesher, on the direction of Mazemouth and, if one could believe what they said the night before. Some agile horses and a few skilled enough riders should be faster than any cart, maybe fast enough to find the thieves before afternoon. Not our problem, the elf aid with the voice of his mind while taking a seat and taking a bowl of oatmeal. Better to travel light, he knew from experience. Eggs, bacon and sausages could be too hard on his stomach for the road they had to take.
Soft Rest awaited with a series of murders to solve, probably caused by someone with a predilection for stealing hearts. It is enough to make a man want to chase some bandits, he admitted savoring his morning meal.
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After his relaxing bath, Thurodim is handed the key to the room by Verity as he heads towards the stairs. "It's the door on the mezzanine, middle floor, only one, you can't miss it," she informs you.
As you enter you see something very similar to the description of the upstairs rooms, though, there are two beds in this room, and they are both very large, around 8 feet in length. They sit on either side of the room, and across the room from the door. After you walk in and pass out a halfling girl poles her head around the door and says "Light your... oh," as she sees you fast asleep and snoring. She giggled a little, then shuts the door to leave you in peace.
Illithir, apologies for taking so long to respond about your history checks. Reminiscing on your tutoring in your early years, and your more recent travels, you think on the fact that these two women are trying to get to Mazemouth. You have accompanied patrons and clients there a few times, and know it as a large town on the mouth of the river Maze, hence the name. It is led by Baron Ogilvy Macefield, a human in his 60s, and although the Baronies are not technically hereditary, it is well known that in due course his son Thorold is most likely to be chosen as successor. It is an old, successful port town, providing a link between north and south Lindost, as well as to the Dwarven lands of Dharbek and the wilds of the Ambermane Hills. However it has struggled a little in the last two centuries following the mysterious fall of Sumarstow, as the coastal town benefited from the wealth of the glittering city.
Your patrons have largely been above board, their businesses legal, so your knowledge of the underworld of Mazemouth is quite limited, certainly lacking in any detail, but almost everyone who has passed through there has heard of The Ghost - a criminal who specialises in burglary. The most valuable items in the city under the most seemingly impregnable defences, nothing is safe from them. Nobody knows how they do it, or who they are, but they have been operating in Mazemouth for close to three decades now, surfacing every few years to pull off another impossible heist.
Ghurr, though the door is closed to keep in the warmth against the night air, a window gives you a pretty uninhibited view of the courtyard and the stable.
Perception: 6. The new moon is approaching, will be here in a couple of days, and the night outside is dark. Outside the little bubble of light emanating from the inn windows it is almost impossible to see anything. However, for the time you are there, nothing crosses your field of vision within the light. Beyond that, you can't be certain. Inside the inn, the three tailors eventually go up to their rooms. The dwarf and the human continue their conversation in urgent, hushed tones you are unable to make out, before eventually they too retire. Verity and the Halfling girl clean and tidy, until they appear to be finished. Verity speaks to you, no need to call out to get your attention, everything here is silent now. "I appreciate you keeping an eye out, but don't stay up too late!"
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
Ghurr watches for a little longer but with the inn locked up for the night he decides that there probably isn't any need to keep watch. He makes his way up to the room he will share with Thurodim. Seeing the big warrior sleeping, Ghurr just nods.
He grabs the mattress of his bed, lays it out in front of the door and goes to sleep on it there. If anyone is going to come through this door in the night, they will have to move his bulk at the same time.
Mala: You focus, and use your connection to the land to expand your awareness. Is there something here which has no right to be here? Thankfully you detect nothing, one less thing to worry about as you fall asleep. It's still a little strange to sleep in a bed rather than a hammock, and to not feel the tilt of the ship and the creak of the hull, but it has been a particularly long, tiring day, and sleep easily finds you.
I would just like to hear about Illithir before I move things forward, though I am myself going to bed now, so it will be during the day tomorrow.
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
He returned to his seat and took the dinner trying to push the remarks of the dwarf away from his mind. An ultimately fruitless effort. The elf could not help but to find a sense of familiarity with Ghuur. He too had been categorized, judged and damned for his appearance. And he hated that. Like few things on the world. As the others spoke about their pasts he remained in silence, his face showing interest on nothing beyond the food on his plate.
When Faera mentioned Mazemouth the first thing the silver haired remembered was the name of Baron Ogilvy Macefield. The city was a strong trade center and that enough was reason enough for the horseless crew or anyone else to go there. Legal or not the area was full of business, not that he knew much about what happened outside of the law. He heard about the Ghost, but everyone heard about the Ghost. Maybe I should take shadier contracts once in a while. One could never have too much information, after all.
“It is time I follow the example of my friends.” Ilithir said to Verity, retreating to his room. There he doffed his armor in a fifth of the time it would normally take, and took his sheathed sword from the belt. Putting his backpack to rest by the bed he hid under the sheets, blade by his side. That should avoid any surprise, the elf thought before drifting into sleep.
So ends your first full day together. Harpies, trolls, potential conspiracies - a lot has happened in a short space of time. And who are these people with whom you find yourselves traveling - colleagues? Acquaintances? Friends already? The possibilities of this new stage in your life spin around your heads, though most of you are far too tired for them to keep you awake.
Faera:
You don't require sleep in the same way as the others. Your four hour meditation is enough to refresh you and replenish your energy. So you are able to stay awake a while longer, reading and thinking while the candle burns lower. Eventually you give yourself over to the trance, and walk through images of your past.
You stand in a courtyard open to the sky, attached to the side of a tall tower complex. Through elegant, pale pillars you can just see over the tops of trees in a large, old forest. You know this place, the martial training yard in Emel Mindol. It's a beautiful summer day - the air is warm, but the altitude keeps the breeze fresh. You're here early to train by yourself, you always were, that's part of how you got so good. But this day you took a few minutes to walk through the pillars and stand at the edge of the long balcony that encircles the yard. Behind you the main tower, behind that the Angocanelci Mountains stretch away to either side, while before you the Ornost Silna forest goes all the way to the horizon, the treetops moving in the breeze like waves on the sea.
In fact, it looks very much like the sea, the longer you look. The sound around you becomes less the rustling of branches in wind, and more like the crashing of waves. Mists roll in on this beautiful summer day, and the sky clouds over. This isn't right, this is a memory and you know this didn't happen. The treetops seem far below you now, looking down you can see them break and reform as they crash against the sides of the tower, not now the smooth pale stone you know, but rough and rocky. This isn't right, this isn't my memory!
A deep, soundless voice calls out to you then, from across the forest, the ocean, and it calls your name. "Faera." Then it calls one more word. "Come." You find yourself walking forward, the balustrade has melted away, and you approach the open cliff edge. You hold your arms out wide and lean forward, and just as you begin to fall
You wake up. It's dark, and cold wind bites at you, as you stand at the edge of the Cliffs of Soft in your night clothes, looking out over the Ousefid Sea. A few dozen yards behind you is the Eagle's Flight, still dark inside, while far away to your right, the west, a faint glow on the horizon tells you it is almost sunrise. Hopefully no one else is up yet, and you will have time to return to your room unnoticed.
Sunlight through your windows is enough to wake those of you who haven't naturally woken early. A bowl and a jug of water sit in your room allowing you to wash if you want, and eventually you make your way downstairs. The smell of various cooking foods fills your nose as, one by one, you join a table in main room.
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
Thurodim wakes up after a long and restful sleep, noticing Ghurr sleeping soundly by their door. Not wanting to wake up his big furry friend, the half-orc takes a moment to quietly wash his face before returning to the big bed, looking out through the window, pondering what adventures the team will have this day.
Faera gasps as the realization washes over her. What did it all mean? She doesn't sleep walk! No matter, no time to contemplate this now, she needs to get back inside. She retreats quickly from the edge of the Cliffs of Soft, careful not to slip and make a bad morning worse.
She looks up to the Inn as she approaches, wondering if she should attempt a back door to help her slip back inside. Worried that it might be locked and waste more time, she decides to head for the front door as fast as she can and head back to her room. She goes as quickly and quietly as she is able.
Stealth: 18
Passing through the courtyard there is just enough light from the soon-to-rise sun to see the charred remains of the troll, removed from the stable and burned. You can also see that, while your cart was one of three vehicles parked around the stable, only two remain - your own empty cart, and one solid wagon. Clearly someone has already left while it was still dark.
Thankfully they appear to have left the front door unlocked. You are able to creep silently back upstairs to your room. As you open your own door, another door down the corridor also opens towards you, but you are able to quickly get in and close your door before whoever it is can round theirs. They don't see you, and you don't see them, but through the wood of the door you can hear the confident pace of someone making an early start.
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
Mala rises with the sun, washes quickly, then goes downstairs. Not seeing any of her other companions, she asks for a small breakfast while she waits for the others.
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard || Iromae Quinaea, Cleric
Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer || Bronnryn Hethgar, Cleric
Ghurr rises very slowly from his slumbers. He waves a sheepish good morning to Thurodim.
"Mum always shake bed to get Ghurr up," Ghurr says. "No need be quiet when wake. Thurodim too nice. Just give shove and we go."
Ghurr gathers his belongings, moves the mattress back to the bed and then goes down to join the others in search of food.
"Start to Soft's Rest soon?" he asks Diggory when he finds the driver.
Faera sits back on the bed in her room and thinks about how in the world did she end up at the Cliffs Edge? What had happened during the day that could possibly result in such an outcome? It didn't make sense. And her dream? The parts she remembers... it was a place she knew, felt comfortable, but towards the end it wasn't right.. there was a mist..
Ah man! This wasn't helping and they had a job to do. She jumped off the bed, got dressed, quickly scrubbed her face and headed downstairs to have breakfast with the others. While they eat, she is uncharacteristically stoic and silent.
Mala greets the others as they join in the breakfast. At Ghurr's comment to Diggory, she nods in agreement. "Yes, we should go as soon as all have finished eating," she offers, basically done herself already and eager to move on. She glances to Faera a couple of times, wondering at her silence, but figures it best to leave her alone.
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard || Iromae Quinaea, Cleric
Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer || Bronnryn Hethgar, Cleric
"Too nice? Haven't heard that before Ghurr." Thurodim says with a deep chuckle, getting out of bed and following his big furry friend downstairs, bringing his gear, the stairs creaking a bit under the weight of the two massive warriors. "Sleep well?" He asks Mala and Faera as he carefully sits down by the breakfast table, immediately digging into it and not really waiting for an answer, making sure Mr. Bleeches gets his breakfast too as the pocket mouse sits on the table by the half-orc, nibbling along on some cheese. Thurodim simply nods as the others start talking about leaving. "Where is Ilithir?" He grunts after a while, chewing on some egg, bacon and sausages.
Mala, you are actually the first one downstairs, before even Verity. On the top corridor you think you hear the click of a door just as you leave your room, but all the rooms are closed, and your hear no further movement. Your imagination perhaps.
Verity does appear shortly, and assures you breakfast will be ready very soon, once her husband gets his backside into the kitchen! While you wait, and as food is brought out on request, the others of your group start to arrive downstairs and join you.
Eggs, bacon and sausages are indeed there, as well as thick buttered slices of bread with a hard, crumbly cheese, sharp with a hint of sweetness, and bowls of oatmeal (or porridge depending on where you're from).
As you all gather, the three tailors from Whitebridge also come down to the main room and break their fast. As their meal draws to a close Darriel, the young human, is sent out to prepared the wagon.
He returns a few minutes later, bursting through the door to shout "Luca's gone! And so is the other wagon! They took Luca!"
Lornan and Waldemar jump to their feet. "What?!"
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
Thurodim's forehead furrows as he realizes the desperate women from last night most likely are the culprits. If they only could have accepted help instead of solving their problems through simple theft, but perhaps that was something they were used to. He wants to help the men but is not sure quite how. The stolen wagon might not have gone far though. As usual when decisions like these are to be made he turns to Mala for guidance, looking at his clever crewmate with an uncertain look, scratching his head and shrugging over what to do, before taking another bite of a juicy sausage.
Ghurr picks up his gear, an extra couple of sausages and heads out to the courtyard and the stable. Was the 'other' wagon, their wagon?
He takes a look to see what's missing, and then around the courtyard. He's not an investigator and doesn't even think to look for clues. If he sees an actual dwarf taking a horse away, that he'll look more closely at.
He woke as the first pallid fingers of daylight crossed the window, his hand moving instinctively towards his blade. Silent, the weapon was a reassuring proof that nothing more happened. At least nothing more that threatened him directly, tried to kill him. Considering the day before, Ilithir counted the fact as a victory.
Leaving the bed, the elf focused on maintaining his gear. He polished shield, armor, longsworad, dagger and the leaden crystal that served as his spell focus. Before long it was the time of the orb. It was a small thing of brass, etched with looping lines and runes he didn’t knew. What are you? The silver haired man asked with the voice of his mind as memories of when he received it flooded his thoughts.
With the sphere failing to answer his question, Ilithir decided to don his armor and climb down for a breakfast. He arrived as Ghurr left for the courtyard carrying some food. The gentle giant seemed in a hurry.
“What happened?” He asked approaching the table where is cohorts seem to have been eating. “There seems to be some kind of commotion going on?”
Not a dull moment at The Eagle's Flight, he thought looking around and waiting for anyone to give him an answer.
Mala nods to Thurondim when he first comes down. "Good morning. Yes, I slept fine, thank you." She frowns a bit as Mr. Bleeches sits on the table eating. She gives the half-orc a quick look but decides to say nothing. Though she can't imagine the proprietors are going to be too happy about rodents in their establishment.
As the young human comes back inside, she pushes her chair back, standing to turn to him. "Who is this Luca?" she asks. "Are you saying your wagon is gone?" She takes a few steps towards him as she awaits his response.
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard || Iromae Quinaea, Cleric
Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer || Bronnryn Hethgar, Cleric
Thurodim is too into his own breakfast eating to notice Mala's disapproving glances towards Mr. Bleeches, but eventually the massive half-orc pockets the pocket mouse again.
"Someone stole a horse and a cart." Thurodim explains to Ilithir. "And good morning." He adds with a quick smile.
As Mala stands up, so does Thurodim, taking a quick stride to stand quietly behind his smaller crewmate, ready to assits her.
“Good morning and not our cart?” He asked Thurodim, noticing his choice of words. Ilithir liked to think of himself as open-minded, and there was good reason for the law, in the most advanced places, to consider one innocent until proven otherwise and beyond reasonable doubt. Yet he could not help but imagine that the two women of the night before were the responsible for the theft. Despair, lack of manners, aggressive action. They had motive and, for lack of better term, the courage to do that. Everyone would arrive at the same conclusion soon enough.
Whatever the case, he thought, they shouldn’t be more than a few hours ahead. Towards a certain Mr. Flesher, on the direction of Mazemouth and, if one could believe what they said the night before. Some agile horses and a few skilled enough riders should be faster than any cart, maybe fast enough to find the thieves before afternoon. Not our problem, the elf aid with the voice of his mind while taking a seat and taking a bowl of oatmeal. Better to travel light, he knew from experience. Eggs, bacon and sausages could be too hard on his stomach for the road they had to take.
Soft Rest awaited with a series of murders to solve, probably caused by someone with a predilection for stealing hearts. It is enough to make a man want to chase some bandits, he admitted savoring his morning meal.