Mills raises an eyebrow at the word of three other rooms of travelers.
Anybody else here that we can see?
[ooc: Was this a question for the DM: "Anybody else here that we can see?" If it was a question for me, then I'm not sure how to answer. I mean, as I said in the original scene setter, there's a few folk scattered about the common room. Do you mean anybody you recognize? If so that's a "no."]
That's what I meant, thank you.
Mills turns to Lucky.
"Alright, ya little scamp... Think you can scope out who the other people traveling through here are? I got a feelin' - nothin to get too worked up at, yet- but it's a feelin'... I'd feel better if we knew it wasn't no trouble of ours."
Lucky focuses on Mills as if seeing him for the first time in a bit. I'll take a peak sure. Acting casual trying to blend in Lucky does a lap and trys to get a good look at the situation.
Gor scoffs at the idea of drinking at the horse trough as that is below him....He says a prayer to himself at the table before attempting to eat "I call upon the spirits of nature for guidance and patience. I know it is my solemn duty to honor the sanctity of nature's offerings. We should not forsake the wisdom of the earth, the ancient knowledge passed down through generations. However, may this lamentable encounter serve as a reminder that the path of culinary enlightenment is one that requires reverence, humility, and an unwavering commitment to the intricate dance of flavors that nature herself orchestrates......those that have not made its way to this establishment or this food."
As Gor contemplated the fact that he never realized how some of the more mundane things, like eating food, could also become adventurous when you're on an adventure, Lucky did a little quiet tour around the room. He did his best to stay as unassuming as possible, not a threat, just a halfling wandering around the common room of The Spiteful Wench. It was just as Lucky began to turn the last corner in his circuitous route about the room, that he caught a familiar glimpse out of the corner of his eye. Immediately he turned and gave a hard stare to Mills who was the only person within his line of sight looking back. The look on his face was as cold and hard as it was when Lucky got slammed by the white dragon's breath just the other day. Mills could see something was wrong, but it wasn't until Nyssa Cragmoon came capering down The Spiteful Wench's stairs that he understood the depth of their predicament. Once again the Order of the Wild Ranger's gut instinct was dead on. Oh how he was tired of being right all the time.
Mills kicked Zanoth in the shin and nodded toward the stairs. There was still a chance things didn't need to turn violent here. If Nyssa wasn't still leading the same Order of Faith hunting party, or if they were retired for the night and the Outlanders could get to their rooms quietly and convince Nyssa to keep her trap shut. There was a chance, but Mills guts roiled violently again, telling him that chance was slim.
As soon as Nyssa reached the bottom stair, Mills and Zanoth were pleased to see she was alone at present. Almost immediately her eyes landed on the booth where Mills, Gor and Zanoth sat. She smiled an almost ear to ear grin, and sauntered over, with the casual grace only a Highland woman could muster in such furs and leathers. "Well, well, well..." she leaned her two fists on the table between Zanoth and Mills and leaned her weight on them. "I thought the priest was out of his gourd. 'They'll come to us.' He said. 'You're daft.' I said. Turns out he was right. What in the nine Abyssal planes are you lot doing in Cold Bend? And best make snappy with the info, cause the boys are gonna be comin' down those stairs for dinner in no time."
Zanoth smiles an easy smile at the woman… chaos unfolds at it’s own pace it seems, and it would have been too easy to get to their destination without more… complexities. And no need to hide the truth, their cleric obviously had strong magic, and anyway, they all knew what they carried, even if they didn’t know “what” it was or did.
“Easy to foretell some of the future if you have the correct augury, and especially as you knew our team and what we carry. I would have been surprised if you had not turned up.
As to what we are doing, it’s what you should have been doing if you were good enough to beat us, which apparently you were not. But I am glad we did not have to fight, it might have hurt my… good sensibilities, especially as it seems we are all “on the same side”.”
Nyssa smiles at Zanoth and answers him before turning to address Mills' question. "I'm on whatever side puts the most gold coins in my purse. As for the three zealots I'm herding around the Highland wilderness, they say they're on the side of the church of Light. Whether that's your side or not, I don't rightly know."
Turning to address Mills, Nyssa lifts up his steaming mug of mulled wine and takes a long draught from it. "Stuff necked stubborn donkeys... I do like the ring of that. What they want with whatever it is you lot got your hands on before they could, is to bring it back to their superiors like they was asked. I suppose they'd be just as happy to do so with you alive and following along, since, like I said, they are supposed to be working for the church." She pauses for a moment and then says, "Now you tell me something boys. How in the Dark did you get ahead of us AND beat down a whole squad of dragonborn? That's a tale I'd sure like to hear." As the conversation with Nyssa goes on, the scruffy, weather-beaten folk around the common room of Fanny's Spiteful Wench begin to pay just a bit more attention. At the mention of defeating a dragonborn squad, Lucky, who is still shuffling about trying to hide in the sparse crowd, can tell tensions are on the rise. It might be that the trouble Mills warned them about bringing to Cold Bend, got brought out without their ability to stop it.
<Lowering his voice and leaning forward so as not to broadcast his words;>
“See Nyssa, we are on the same side. Suitable recompense for services rendered, plus saving the world.
My friends tell me one of your zealots is a follower of Selwyn, as am I. So we seek the same outcome, even if it’s not via the same destination.
And we we might consider allowing you to accompany us… alive… more arms verses the terrors that may try and stop us. The dragon we had to slay yesterday was I must admit a close call, but (looking at his friends) we could make it three out of three victories if those… donkeys… of yours decide to pick a fight. Not that I relish it, it seems your employers are fighting on the side of good, as we are, but Mills is right. Zealotry can be… stubborn.”
/OOC Twirl my newly obtained Dragon Fang as “proof” of our … bragging.
[ooc: Setting note, it's Saxwyn, not Selwyn. :) Not a big deal, just wanted to clarify.]
Nyssa's eyes widen when Zanoth prominently displays his trophy from the white dragon. "Moonless Night! You aren't kidding?" For once it seems Nyssa Cragmoon is rendered dumbstruck. She stands gawking at the dragon tooth still with bits of dried blood stuck to it, and utters no speech for a solid minute. When she does finally speak, she leans in conspiratorially close and all but whispers, "listen, it's not really any of my business, but the three street-runners I'm toting around seem awfully concerned about you boys beating them in their own game. I used to be worried about them slaughtering you all. Now I'm not so sure. I'm begging you, for me, and for all the good folk that would surely get caught as collateral damage, please remember that we are all on the same side. Even if it doesn't seem like it from their tone."
Zanoth smiles. Begging now ? A last verbal push and they would be on the right track;
“Concern at us beating them ? I’d call that jealousy if I didn't know better. A knight of Saxwyn should be concerned with the glory of battle, not the achievements of others who succeeded before they did.
Discord between our teams would only aid those who seek power over the world through this artifact. But Mills has a destination in mind, approved by the mayor and the items rightful owner, and it is this quest that gives us direction. So woe betide any external forces who try and force our hand without honour, without authority and against the ultimate good.”
/OOC Spelling checker be damned ! Thats a small municipal area near me, it auto corrected it as I type it a lot.
"Oh hells, Nyssa. Go get your donkeys up and invite us in so we're not airing our business for every Tom, Dick, and Jane in town. We'll get this settled."
Gor smiles at Mills get to the point attitude and thinks what a terrible diplomat he would make. "Mills gets right to the point...Why dawdle? Why these platitudes...unless of course you have seen the error in your judgement and wish to join our side and ditch the ones you have been aiding?"
Gor's question albeit mostly rhetorical caused Nyssa's eyebrows to quirk as she gave it more than just a second thought. After a moment the group watched a revelation of wisdom cross her face and she screwed it up in a scrunch. "No, as tempting as that is, they'd just find us anyway with augury and divination, just as they've been able to do all along. No, Mills is right, you'd best come upstairs with me and we can hash this out once and for all."
Having said so, she didn't wait for anyone to finish food or drink, but turned her back and started to head back toward the stairs to the Spiteful Wench's second floor. Upon reaching the landing of the stairs she turned around to see if the group was following or not.
After climbing The Spiteful Wench's stairwell up and around to the second floor, Nyssa walks down the short hallway to the door all the way at the other end, turning to make sure Mills and friends are in tow. After reaching the door, she raps against the wood with her fist, a few quick knocks. Before waiting for an answer she says, "Oy fellers, Brivelm was spot on, seems like the boys out of the Ridge showed up as expected. I've got 'em out here, and they'd like to talk, peaceful like, about what's best to do now."
Before Nyssa could even finish her sentence the door handle clicked and the door pulled open to reveal Irgom, the blue eyed, blonde haired magic user, wearing a long dun robe of stout wool, staring at them as he took a big crunchy bite out of a green apple. With bits of apple and juice sloshing around in his mouth he said, "Welcome, welcome gentlemen. Come on in and pull up a ..." he turned to the room seeing Nargha occupying the room's only bed, and Brivelm in one of the room's only two chairs. Obviously Irgom believed he deserved to have the other chair because after thinking about it he said, "pull up a square of floor. Let's have a chit chat."
After the Outlanders funnel into the room, past Nyssa, she nods at Irgom and then says, "You all don't need me for this, so I'm gonna go back downstairs and get some chow... der." Just when she was about to pull the door shut, Fanny appeared with a tray of seven mugs of ale and a tankard of water. Irgom grabbed the tray and set it on a chest of drawers athwart the door. Then Fanny and Nyssa disappeared, Igrom grabbed a mug of ale and took a long draught, and shut the door.
For a moment everyone sat or stood around staring at each other, Nargha had is armor on the bed, and was cleaning the emblem of Saxwyn etched into the breastplate with a bit of rag and some oil. Brivelm, wearing an loose shirt unlaced about the chest, and comfortable looking cotton trousers, sat in a plush brown chair, nodding at Irgom to bring him a mug of ale, which Irgom obliged. After taking a sip of the inn's watered down swill, Brivelm looked from Mills to Zanoth and back again, and said, "I don't want this to sound like a command, because it isn't, but this conversation isn't going to go well, or far, if you don't produce the amulet and let us take a look at it. I've got orders from up on high for Irgom and I to both give it a careful study before contacting our superiors for further orders. I can see how you'd think bringing the amulet to Rydwyrna seems like a good idea, but we've been told to ensure that that is, in fact, the best course of action."
Nargha looks up from polishing his breastplate, cocks an eyebrow at Zanoth, and then gives Brivelm a hard look. Brivelm clears his throat, and then says, "I'm sorry, you're right. Would it be okay, please, for Irgom and I to take some time and study the amulet you," he pauses there for a second, "did you say the Outlanders?" It's clear the question is rhetorical in nature as he then just keeps on with his request, "anyway, could we please take a look at the amulet you recovered?"
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That's what I meant, thank you.
Mills turns to Lucky.
"Alright, ya little scamp... Think you can scope out who the other people traveling through here are? I got a feelin' - nothin to get too worked up at, yet- but it's a feelin'... I'd feel better if we knew it wasn't no trouble of ours."
Paladin - warforged - orange
Ooc: roll 17 stealth and 15 perception
Lucky focuses on Mills as if seeing him for the first time in a bit. I'll take a peak sure. Acting casual trying to blend in Lucky does a lap and trys to get a good look at the situation.
Gor scoffs at the idea of drinking at the horse trough as that is below him....He says a prayer to himself at the table before attempting to eat "I call upon the spirits of nature for guidance and patience. I know it is my solemn duty to honor the sanctity of nature's offerings. We should not forsake the wisdom of the earth, the ancient knowledge passed down through generations. However, may this lamentable encounter serve as a reminder that the path of culinary enlightenment is one that requires reverence, humility, and an unwavering commitment to the intricate dance of flavors that nature herself orchestrates......those that have not made its way to this establishment or this food."
As Gor contemplated the fact that he never realized how some of the more mundane things, like eating food, could also become adventurous when you're on an adventure, Lucky did a little quiet tour around the room. He did his best to stay as unassuming as possible, not a threat, just a halfling wandering around the common room of The Spiteful Wench. It was just as Lucky began to turn the last corner in his circuitous route about the room, that he caught a familiar glimpse out of the corner of his eye. Immediately he turned and gave a hard stare to Mills who was the only person within his line of sight looking back. The look on his face was as cold and hard as it was when Lucky got slammed by the white dragon's breath just the other day. Mills could see something was wrong, but it wasn't until Nyssa Cragmoon came capering down The Spiteful Wench's stairs that he understood the depth of their predicament. Once again the Order of the Wild Ranger's gut instinct was dead on. Oh how he was tired of being right all the time.
Mills kicked Zanoth in the shin and nodded toward the stairs. There was still a chance things didn't need to turn violent here. If Nyssa wasn't still leading the same Order of Faith hunting party, or if they were retired for the night and the Outlanders could get to their rooms quietly and convince Nyssa to keep her trap shut. There was a chance, but Mills guts roiled violently again, telling him that chance was slim.
As soon as Nyssa reached the bottom stair, Mills and Zanoth were pleased to see she was alone at present. Almost immediately her eyes landed on the booth where Mills, Gor and Zanoth sat. She smiled an almost ear to ear grin, and sauntered over, with the casual grace only a Highland woman could muster in such furs and leathers. "Well, well, well..." she leaned her two fists on the table between Zanoth and Mills and leaned her weight on them. "I thought the priest was out of his gourd. 'They'll come to us.' He said. 'You're daft.' I said. Turns out he was right. What in the nine Abyssal planes are you lot doing in Cold Bend? And best make snappy with the info, cause the boys are gonna be comin' down those stairs for dinner in no time."
Mills runs his eyes for a long moment before letting out a sigh.
"Nyssa... What does your ol' stuff necked buncha' stubborn donkeys want with this thing, anyway?"
Paladin - warforged - orange
Nyssa smiles at Zanoth and answers him before turning to address Mills' question. "I'm on whatever side puts the most gold coins in my purse. As for the three zealots I'm herding around the Highland wilderness, they say they're on the side of the church of Light. Whether that's your side or not, I don't rightly know."
Turning to address Mills, Nyssa lifts up his steaming mug of mulled wine and takes a long draught from it. "Stuff necked stubborn donkeys... I do like the ring of that. What they want with whatever it is you lot got your hands on before they could, is to bring it back to their superiors like they was asked. I suppose they'd be just as happy to do so with you alive and following along, since, like I said, they are supposed to be working for the church." She pauses for a moment and then says, "Now you tell me something boys. How in the Dark did you get ahead of us AND beat down a whole squad of dragonborn? That's a tale I'd sure like to hear." As the conversation with Nyssa goes on, the scruffy, weather-beaten folk around the common room of Fanny's Spiteful Wench begin to pay just a bit more attention. At the mention of defeating a dragonborn squad, Lucky, who is still shuffling about trying to hide in the sparse crowd, can tell tensions are on the rise. It might be that the trouble Mills warned them about bringing to Cold Bend, got brought out without their ability to stop it.
/OOC Twirl my newly obtained Dragon Fang as “proof” of our … bragging.
Lucky moves to a position of advantage just in case things start to go south.
[ooc: Setting note, it's Saxwyn, not Selwyn. :) Not a big deal, just wanted to clarify.]
Nyssa's eyes widen when Zanoth prominently displays his trophy from the white dragon. "Moonless Night! You aren't kidding?" For once it seems Nyssa Cragmoon is rendered dumbstruck. She stands gawking at the dragon tooth still with bits of dried blood stuck to it, and utters no speech for a solid minute. When she does finally speak, she leans in conspiratorially close and all but whispers, "listen, it's not really any of my business, but the three street-runners I'm toting around seem awfully concerned about you boys beating them in their own game. I used to be worried about them slaughtering you all. Now I'm not so sure. I'm begging you, for me, and for all the good folk that would surely get caught as collateral damage, please remember that we are all on the same side. Even if it doesn't seem like it from their tone."
/OOC Spelling checker be damned ! Thats a small municipal area near me, it auto corrected it as I type it a lot.
Mills slams his mug down and stands up abruptly.
"Oh hells, Nyssa. Go get your donkeys up and invite us in so we're not airing our business for every Tom, Dick, and Jane in town. We'll get this settled."
Paladin - warforged - orange
Gor smiles at Mills get to the point attitude and thinks what a terrible diplomat he would make. "Mills gets right to the point...Why dawdle? Why these platitudes...unless of course you have seen the error in your judgement and wish to join our side and ditch the ones you have been aiding?"
Gor's question albeit mostly rhetorical caused Nyssa's eyebrows to quirk as she gave it more than just a second thought. After a moment the group watched a revelation of wisdom cross her face and she screwed it up in a scrunch. "No, as tempting as that is, they'd just find us anyway with augury and divination, just as they've been able to do all along. No, Mills is right, you'd best come upstairs with me and we can hash this out once and for all."
Having said so, she didn't wait for anyone to finish food or drink, but turned her back and started to head back toward the stairs to the Spiteful Wench's second floor. Upon reaching the landing of the stairs she turned around to see if the group was following or not.
Mills is following, although he keeps a hand on an odd mattock on his hip.
Paladin - warforged - orange
Gor sighs taking a sip of whatever liquid was on the table and a spoonful of the horribly made soup and follows along
After climbing The Spiteful Wench's stairwell up and around to the second floor, Nyssa walks down the short hallway to the door all the way at the other end, turning to make sure Mills and friends are in tow. After reaching the door, she raps against the wood with her fist, a few quick knocks. Before waiting for an answer she says, "Oy fellers, Brivelm was spot on, seems like the boys out of the Ridge showed up as expected. I've got 'em out here, and they'd like to talk, peaceful like, about what's best to do now."
Before Nyssa could even finish her sentence the door handle clicked and the door pulled open to reveal Irgom, the blue eyed, blonde haired magic user, wearing a long dun robe of stout wool, staring at them as he took a big crunchy bite out of a green apple. With bits of apple and juice sloshing around in his mouth he said, "Welcome, welcome gentlemen. Come on in and pull up a ..." he turned to the room seeing Nargha occupying the room's only bed, and Brivelm in one of the room's only two chairs. Obviously Irgom believed he deserved to have the other chair because after thinking about it he said, "pull up a square of floor. Let's have a chit chat."
After the Outlanders funnel into the room, past Nyssa, she nods at Irgom and then says, "You all don't need me for this, so I'm gonna go back downstairs and get some chow... der." Just when she was about to pull the door shut, Fanny appeared with a tray of seven mugs of ale and a tankard of water. Irgom grabbed the tray and set it on a chest of drawers athwart the door. Then Fanny and Nyssa disappeared, Igrom grabbed a mug of ale and took a long draught, and shut the door.
For a moment everyone sat or stood around staring at each other, Nargha had is armor on the bed, and was cleaning the emblem of Saxwyn etched into the breastplate with a bit of rag and some oil. Brivelm, wearing an loose shirt unlaced about the chest, and comfortable looking cotton trousers, sat in a plush brown chair, nodding at Irgom to bring him a mug of ale, which Irgom obliged. After taking a sip of the inn's watered down swill, Brivelm looked from Mills to Zanoth and back again, and said, "I don't want this to sound like a command, because it isn't, but this conversation isn't going to go well, or far, if you don't produce the amulet and let us take a look at it. I've got orders from up on high for Irgom and I to both give it a careful study before contacting our superiors for further orders. I can see how you'd think bringing the amulet to Rydwyrna seems like a good idea, but we've been told to ensure that that is, in fact, the best course of action."
Nargha looks up from polishing his breastplate, cocks an eyebrow at Zanoth, and then gives Brivelm a hard look. Brivelm clears his throat, and then says, "I'm sorry, you're right. Would it be okay, please, for Irgom and I to take some time and study the amulet you," he pauses there for a second, "did you say the Outlanders?" It's clear the question is rhetorical in nature as he then just keeps on with his request, "anyway, could we please take a look at the amulet you recovered?"