Soren accepts a cup of wine from Urwin but does not yet drink.  He relaxes slightly but remains standing, like a wolf who knows the pack's territory has been compromised.  On his shoulder, Nettle turns to butt her forehead affectionately against his, then slowly vanishes into green motes.

"After encountering guards from the Baron's mansion looting homes, we found the orphanage.  Saint Penelope's.  Nothing remained living therein.  The hags had been there before us, slaying adults and stealing children.  Only Milivoj was there still, the youth from the Cathedral, transformed into a Vampire Spawn, ravenous with hunger, who attacked us for our blood.  In a brief moment of lucidity, he revealed that a female vampire we have seen watching us in Vallaki a few times, Anastrasia, seduced him into stealing the Bones of Saint Andral, a holy relic which had protected the Cathedral until the night of the attack.  She then turned Milivoj into her undead thrall like the others.  It was she who orchestrated the attack at the Cathedral and sent the Vampire Spawn.  Whether she is allied with Strahd, I know not, but Strahd at least allowed her to do it."

"After slaying what remained of Milivoj, on our path out the town gate, we found Strahd's carriage waiting for us with an undead driver to bear us to the Castle.  We declined, explaining we had a task.  I believe Burr used the words 'Rain Check.'  The carriage sped away, and when we arrived near Bonegrinder, we found a sign from Strahd condemning the hags.  No help - a hindrance in fact, since it forewarned the hags of our arrival, which they took advantage of by placing a curse on three of us from a distance.  Giles was able to remove the curse from Zefla and Burr, but I still bear its weight until tomorrow at least.  Lady Bauer revealed that Night Hags are fiends from the lower planes and utterly implacable, so we proceeded with caution."

"We found the lower floors of Bonegrinder seemingly abandoned, though in fact two of the hags were waiting there unseen, in some mirror plane they can reach but we cannot perceive.  Morgantha sat visibly on the upper floor with Saskia as hostage and the two other cubs in wooden cages.  Zefla was able to negotiate, freeing Saskia from the hag's clutches in exchange for promises which I at least had no intention to fulfil."

"When battle was joined, the two missing hags appeared, and one conjured a giant acidic horror from a barrel of foul ichor, which is responsible for many of our burns that you see.  Their magic was very strong, as Victor discovered, to his chagrin.  Yet once we slew one hag, something changed, and they seemed greatly diminished.  We nearly slew another before both she and Morgantha vanished, the latter allowing that she had underestimated us, yet promising grave retribution, including harrowing my sleep with excruciating nightmares and denying me rest, as she has done before."

"Freeing the remaining cubs and taking what artifacts we found for the mages to study, we set Bonegrinder ablaze, though..."  Soren swallows.  "...Though I fear that the creature of elemental fire Victor summoned to do so may cause further damage.  Regardless, returning, we came upon a fallow field with scarecrow effigies that had not been there before, dead ravens at their feet, as if a message to us."  Soren glances at Urwin Martikov.

"Finally, at the gates of Vallaki, an ambush awaited.  Cultists in league with the late Lady Wachter, bearing likenesses of Burr with tiny three-toed footprints upon them.  Perhaps the tiny flying, talking menace with the tail stinger which attacked us, then disappeared in the Wachter House, plotting revenge.  Truly, I grow weary of enemies who vanish rather than standing and fighting.  Regardless, we left the ambushers' corpses burning by the gate."

With nothing more to say, Soren stops speaking, with no particular inflection or intonation indicating he is done.  He simply closes his mouth and waits.

As Soren's final words hang in the air, the taproom of the Blue Water Inn falls into a long silence.

Yevgeni, the broader of the two wolf hunters, lets out a bark of incredulous laughter.  “Hah!  Hags?  A barrel beast?  Leaving Bloody Strahd’s carriage waiting like a jilted tomcat?” He leans back in his chair and shakes his head, smiling through his mustache.  “You’re telling tales now, boy.  Tales for the fire, not for sober ears.”

But Szoldar does not laugh.  He eyes Soren sidelong for a long while, grim beneath his weathered cloak, and slowly shakes his head.  “No tale,” he mutters, just loud enough to carry.  “I believe them.  Spirits help us all, I believe every cursed word.”  He drinks deeply, as if to wash away the thought, his gaze flicking toward the shuttered windows like he expects some horror to claw its way in.

At the far wall, Adrian and Elvir Martikov stand still.  Their arms remain crossed, but their postures have tensed.  Elvir’s eyes narrow at the mention of dead ravens, while Adrian watches the party with the look of a man taking new stock of dangerous variables.  Neither speaks.  

Urwin Martikov listens with wine in hand, expression unreadable as Soren recounts the death of Milivoj, the carriage, the scarecrow field, the hags, and the burning tower.  When Soren finishes, the innkeeper finally takes a slow drink, considering, then lowers his cup.

“Well.”  His voice is low, scratchy with weariness.  “I’m glad you’re still alive.  That’s no small feat anymore.  But I won’t lie—things here are turning bad.  Fast.”

He sets the cup down and leans forward, resting his forearms on the table.

“I’ve found the two names I spoke to you about.  Tobias Grunfeld—the old guard captain—he’s come out of hiding.  Started pulling together a force.  Former guards, some old militia, even a few townfolk who want stability.  He’s gathering in the western quarters.”  Urwin pauses.  “But it’s not all good news.  Another gang of ex-guards is organizing too.  Bigger.  Meaner.  They want control, not order.  There’s already tension.  By tomorrow?  Could be street-to-street fighting.  Full-blown turf war.”

He turns his gaze toward the hearth before continuing.

“Sebastian Stanimir, the noble I mentioned, is still in his manor.  He’s not rallying anyone.  Doesn’t want to lead.  But… he’s been distributing food from his storehouses.  Helping people ride out the chaos.  Quiet-like.  I don’t think he’ll ever raise a flag or challenge for rule.  Just isn’t that sort.  Not a coward but... not a man of daring, either.”

He pauses again, watching the flicker of firelight.

“But now there’s another name.  Karl Wachter.”

Yevgeni scowls, muttering under his breath.  "You should'na ever let those boys leave here."

Urwin continues, voice tightening.  “Word’s already spreading.  That his mother—Lady Wachter—was murdered by assassins sent by the late Baron.  You, in other words.  Her loyalists are putting him forward as a new Baron.  His brother’s acting as seneschal, backing the claim.”

From the hearthside, Victor stirs and puts down his wine cup and mumbles, “What about their sister, Stella?”

Urwin sighs and shakes his head.  “I’ve heard nothing of the girl.  No mention of her name in the streets.  Though a heavy bag of silver has been offered for your neck in a noose, Victor.”

He turns back to the group.  “Their supporters haven’t made a real play yet.  Just words.  The ambush you faced at the gate?  Could be the beginning.  Could be a test.”

Then he frowns deeply.

“One more thing.  The Cult of Ezra.  You’ve seen the little shrine, east side of town?  Folk are gathering there.  Not just a few—dozens now.  Word is, the cult is promising safety.  Comfort.  Protection from what’s coming.  Probably just desperate folk grasping at any hope they can find.  But still… unsettling.  The Ezra folk haven’t drawn this kind of attention since they got here.  I don’t like it.”

He shakes his head.

“I don’t trust them.  Mists-cursed fanatics, if you ask me.  Might be harmless.  Might be something worse.”

Urwin stands, wine forgotten now, and looks toward the stairs.

“In a few minutes, Adrian and Elvir will head back to the winery.  And Danica and my boys are going with them.”

He hesitates for just a moment, his voice low, but resolute.

“Vallaki is too dangerous, now.  I won’t risk them here any longer.  The roads are not safe, no—but my brothers will get them there.  And once there, they’ll be protected.  The winery’s defended, doubly so after that last trouble, Davian will see to it.”

His eyes turn back to the party.

“And it will leave me with freer hands in case I need to get them dirty here in town.  If there’s anyone else you’d send away—any of the children, maybe Ireena, Tourmaline, or even Victor—you should think on it.  It might be the only chance for a while to get someone out of this fire before it spreads.”

He looks between them all.  “It’s your call.  But don’t take too long.”

And with that, the fire crackles in the silence again; the smell of ash, the taste of wine, and words to consider.

As Soren speaks and sums up the course of events, Giles takes one sip after another of wine.  Like he can't get enough, enough to wash away this town, this land, all of it.  He slows himself when he starts to feel off, a great sense of fatigue coming over him.  He nods from time to time and interjects details, points of view.  He says nothing of Victor and the near immolation of Zefla in the tower, but adding in bits of how they worked together to vanquish the hags.  

He frowns at Yevgeni as he begins to speak, but then gives a grim smile to Szoldar as he recognizes the truth of the tale.  Then the dark words Urwin, and he finishes his glass of wine.  For a while he sits, taking it in, listening to the fire, doing the calculations in his head.  He turns to his companions, to read their faces and get their thoughts.  

"I think we should send Ireena and Victor on to the winery.  It is too dangerous here.  But Tourmaline, we could use your help.  And anyone else who can stand against the evil in this town."  He looks around at the hunters, the others gathered in the room, trying to size up the number of the willing.   "We should strike the head of the serpent and give these people a chance.  Perhaps Tobias can pull it together.  Someone.  It ... feels wrong to leave this town in this shape.  But I would love to hear other opinions.  Another part of me feels that this is a grand distraction, manufactured and manipulated by the dark lord in his high castle for his amusement.  Makes me sick..."  Giles stops and goes silent, sitting back in his chair, watching everyone's faces in the fire light.  

Burr frowns his brow furrowed, " The Wachter boys........their hatred of me is more than fair.....but do you think they could provide  stability to the town? Could an alliance between themselves, the Guard Captain and Stanimir be a force for good?  The Wachter boys were not involved in their Mothers demonology....her supporters may have their ear now but they are now very few in number and I feel the Guard Captain and Stanimir may be a better influence.  The Captain was .....weak....but seemed to have the best interests of his men in mind which is a start....."

" Regardless....our continued presence will be nothing but a distraction from what needs to be done.  Like Victor I'd like to know where Stella is...and...I am willing to walk in and speak to them and offer penance for my crime if you think it will help bring some hope for healing here."

Soren shakes his head.  "I will follow the group's decision, not-Father, but while I agree the cubs should retreat to the winery, I do not think we should split the adults.  When the cold winds blow, the pack should stay united.  We are all stronger together.  Including Victor.  Including Ireena."

He turns to Burr.  There are dark circles around the druid's soft brown eyes, and a haunted look.

"My friend, it is your choice to submit yourself to city-folk law for your... crime?  But it was I who instigated our decision to attack Lady Wachter for being complicit in the rampage Strahd's lackeys have unleashed on this town, even if you struck the final blow.  And I would do it again, knowing now that she and her 'book club' also allied with fiends in her basement.  These cultists support her cub, Karl, now.  Karl may be a... is 'puppet' the word that city-folk would use?  I recall both Wachter brothers as drunkards who I had to carry home myself (as a horse) when they passed out after playing a game with Zefla.  Last night, they bullied Victor, who said their sister Stella cared nothing for them.  Karl Wachter should not be Vallaki's pack alpha."

Soren subsides after voicing his opinion, is voice having become hoarse by the end.  He seems aware that he has not offered any real solutions.

Zefla is quiet for a long moment as the men talk.  She notes Soren's mention of her negotiation in a better light than she remembered earlier, probably due to the heat of the moment.  As Urwin lays out the situation in Vallaki, her shoulders slump.  She hasn't even touched the glass of wine in front of her.  She just stares at it.

"Would it be possible if we rallied with Tobias, showed our strength to help him bolster his - there might be a chance to get the town around it?  Get a semblance of stability and knock out the rising competition?  Also.. what is this Ezra?  Other than the cult gathering, do we know it is bad?  I mean... most likely, but curious if there was anything else known about it."

Urwin Martikov listens carefully to each of you, especially Giles and Burr.  He takes a long breath before he speaks, voice low and steady, the voice of a man used to working in whispers and influence.  “Giles is right about one thing—Vallaki matters.  The Devil’s eyes are everywhere in Barovia, but Vallaki... it’s one of very few places he doesn't own outright.  Not yet.  He doesn't need to crush it.  If he just lets it rot a little, it may turn to him on its own.”

“Tobias… young, unsure, and lowborn.  But honest... tough.  People know him.  Trust him.  The noble—Stanimir—he has no spine, but wisdom.  He might follow strength if it’s shown.  And the Wachter boys?  Useless drunks.  I should know... I've watched them piss-drunk on my floors since they were youths.  If they take charge, it’ll be worse than chaos—it’ll be a puppet court for whatever’s whispering in the cellars beneath that cursed house.”

“There’s a moment here—one moment—where the people might rally.  If you back Tobias, if you act decisively, they might fall behind you.  Might.  But hesitate, and someone else will seize that void.  And then... well.”  He shrugs and lifts his wine. 

By the hearth, Adrian tosses in a log and sets to work getting a flame on.  Elvis leans close, muttering something.  Adrian snorts and says aloud with a smirk, “Lot of talk about who leads a pigsty.  You fix one corner, the whole roof still leaks.”  Urwin shoots them both a hard look from the bar.  They fall silent again, more at ease in the quiet labor of tending flame than talk of leadership or devils.

Szoldar the wolf hunter looks at Burr.  “You offerin’ yourself to the Wachters?  That’s stupid, big man.  They'll just kill you .  That whole family’s meat is bad.  If you want to make peace, do it with steel.  Kill Karl.  Burn the books... burn the whole house for that matter.  Pick someone else to hold the reins in Vallaki.  Someone who doesn’t worship monsters.”

He smirks, raising a mug a taking a long drink.  “Hell, let the people choose.  But don’t hand it to a drunk with a blood cult behind him and hope he finds the light.”

Yevgeni, his companion, looks to Zefla, speaking softly.  “Ezra’s no friend to man.  I saw her followers once—gray-robed men, not local.  Preaching of a 'Mist-borne salvation.'  They spoke of surrender, of release from this world.  I followed one once.  He went straight to the mists at the edge of the valley and walked in, never came back out.”  He shivers.  "No scream, no stumble, no second thought.  Just... gone.  They talk like the mists are a living goddess.  Want to be swallowed by her. I don’t know what happens when you go in like that.  But I’m not keen to find out.”

Urwin leans on the bartop.  "There used to be a pair of towns at the southwest end of the valley, past our family's winery.  Zeindenburg and Teufeldorf.  Many years ago, the mists swallowed Zeindenburg.  The town, the buildings, the people... one day it was here.  The next day it was gone.  Ever since, those mists have been creeping closer and closer to Teufeldorf.  Now, it's just outside of the walls.  Over time, a lot of refugees resettled here in Vallaki, trying to get out before their town disappears.  But now this Cult of Ezra -they appeared one day, claiming there was no reason to fear.  Supposedly, Teufeldorf is overrun with them now.  And a few have come to Vallaki, trying to recruit; to get people to move back... to embrace the coming mists."  He takes a drink.  "I think they're all mad, or suicidal."

From the corner, Victor finally stirs.  “That's it though, isn't it?” he mutters, voice thin and bitter.  “The people don't want to be saved.  Vallaki doesn’t want to be saved.  It never did.  You think they'll cheer for Tobias?  For you?  They’ll run back into their homes and draw their shutters the moment it costs them something.  Or hand the new leader over to the Devil, or to the mists.  This town is already dead.”

Tourmaline, quiet so far, breaks in with a sharper tone.  “Why are we even talking about this?” she says, arms crossed, one foot tapping.  “You want to save Vallaki?  Fine.  But why?  We kill one hag, two more escape to harry us.  You set a good man in the Burgomaster’s chair?  Fine... until Strahd’s beasts tear him apart next week.  The world resets.”

“Unless this business in Vallaki hurts Strahd, unless it breaks his grip or helps us find a way out, then what’s the point?  We are not here to be heroes for every dying town.  We’re here to survive—and to end this nightmare.  That’s the only war that matters.  I don't care about being remembered as the horned woman who put the 18th burgomaster of Vallaki in his seat.  I want to get back to Waterdeep and some decent bedsheets.”   She doesn’t wait for approval.  She steps toward the window, looking out into the gloom, face tense.

Urwin looks at her for a long time but says nothing.  Then he turns to his brothers.  "You should get ready."  He looks again to the party.  "Will anyone be going with them to the Wizard of Wines?  The time to choose is now."

Giles nods when Tourmaline speaks, saying "I get it.  I don't want to be roped into every cause in this land of mists either.  But.. this is different.  This town, like it or not, is our "home base."  it is where we should run to in the storm.  We need to have a place to rest, to gather, to muster our strength against the dark one, if we are ever to make it out of here.  Heh.  Waterdeep.  It's almost like I forgot the name.  I could tell you some tales of adventures there..."  He stops, looking back in the flame.  "Look, Soren is right.  Take the children to the winery.  But every able bodied adult that can fight - we will need.  But for now, I need rest.  All of us need rest.  We should set a watch, and get some sleep, if it will come.  On the morrow, after I heal Soren, we should make our way to the Wachter house and have it out.  Then lend our support to Tobias.  In return, this will be our home base as we tackle our true mission, which is to get the hell out of here... and not by running into some bleedin mist.  I still remember what we saw in there, it seems like ages ago...."  Giles stops, staring in the fire again, listening for the others to speak up.  

Burr nodded, he had similar thoughts but hadn't considered that the town might take on a leader that wasn't already one of the upper crust.....''lower class'' leaders always tended to end with a knife in their back in his experience because those above did not want others getting any ideas.

 He looked to Tourmaline, " How many would you need for a relatively safe escort to the winery do you think."

He nodded to Victor giving him a tight smile to indicate he had dwelled on the same thoughts himself.......but there were children and others here who did not deserve abandonment....

Soren turns wearily to Lady Bauer and Victor, who each in their own way express their desire to abandon Vallaki as lost.  His voice is soft.

"I think you misunderstand me.  I do not wish to 'save' Vallaki for its own sake, or even for that of its townsfolk, though I think that is a worthier cause than you are suggesting.  I wish to make it safe for our pack.  And I consider Urwin and the Martikovs to be part of our pack now.  If Urwin were to tell us right now that he is abandoning the Blue Water Inn and relocating, perhaps to the winery, then I too might leaveVallaki to its own devices."

"But no one should feel bound to remain here.  Those who wish to accompany Adrian and Elvir to join Davian Martikov at the winery should by all means go, and I have no quarrel with them.  Certainly all the cubs, but you too, Lady Bauer, Victor or Ireena.  Any here may freely choose to retreat there and it seems a reasonable choice.  And Burr, I think they will be as well protected as needed, given that they too can fight, as can Adrian and Elvir. Though perhaps we accompany them just past the town gates in case there is another ambush."

He turns to Urwin.  "Yet as long as you hold your ground here, so will I.  If we need to show our support for Tobias, do you think we should find a way to start tonight?  Perhaps meet with him?  Or strike at the renegade guards, or the cultists supporting the Wachter twins?  Or wait until the dawn?"

"Strahd doesn't have a hold here yet and that's good enough for me.  That and we need a place to go when we're hurt."  Zefla states matter of factly, then looks to Tourmaline, "Unless you just want to wander the countryside and get some rest when we need it?  I know I don't.  And like Soren said, these people deserve being saved as well, they are good people."

She doesn't add to the conversation as to who goes to the winery, honestly she doesn't really care as long as her group stays together.  "Thanks for the explanation of Ezra... creepy.  As for Stanimir, think he would be more active if a side were to raise up?  Say if we backed Tobias and try and get a little stability here, would be good if he joined, then we can get back to finding our way home."

Urwin Martikov crosses his arms, nodding thoughtfully.  “You’re right, Giles.  Vallaki isn't free, exactly, but Strahd’s never had a stranglehold on it the way he does over the rest of the valley.  It’s why it’s worth fighting for.  If it falls... there won’t be a safe haven left between here and the castle.”

He looks at Soren, giving a small, weary smile.  “As long as the Inn stands, I’m not going anywhere.  The folk here know me.  They’ll take comfort seeing me behind the bar, hearing familiar voices.  It’s not much... but it’s something.”

"You’re right about needing a break—some of you look half-dead on your feet.  But resting now means we’re stuck here until morning.  Come nightfall, it won't be safe to walk the streets, unless you have a plan for dealing with those vampire spawn.  If you bed down here, there’s no leaving ‘til dawn, like it or not."

"As for Tobias, I think your idea of backing him’s the best shot.  The guards know him, and most of the townsfolk respect him.  If you can get him to publicly stand up—make a speech or something—people might rally.  But that’s assuming the place hasn’t already gone to the dogs by sunrise."

The wolfhunters shrug.  “We’re here.  We’ll fight if need be.  Nothing else to it," Szoldar grunts.  "The Martikovs have all the wine, and they're they only ones who know to season a wolf steak properly."

Yevgeni nudges him with his elbow.  “Reckon you and I'd better sleep while we can, then.  You look like hell.”

Szoldar grunts again, giving Yevgeni a sideways glare like the comment offends.

Tourmaline scoffs at Giles and Soren, though not entirely unkindly.  “You’re all so damn sentimental.  A place to go when you’re hurt?  We're bleeding out already— and now we'll be fighting for a town that doesn’t even know what it wants.  But fine. You want to make it a stronghold?  I’ll help you do it.  Just... don’t get attached.  If we lose, and this place falls - we move on.  Simple as that.”

She doesn’t seem particularly enthused about staying, but the talk of making Vallaki a base of operations seems to have softened her stance enough to remain.

Victor is quiet, eyes fixed on the fire. He hesitates, then nods.  “Maybe... maybe staying makes sense.  The winery’s safe, but it’s not... permanent.  If Vallaki stabilizes, it could actually be somewhere to plan from. And...”

He glances toward Burr and Giles.  “If we’re doing this, I’ll help.  I’ll... talk to Stanimir, if you think he’d listen.  I've met him before at my mother's dinner parties.  I know he doesn’t think much of me, but I can try.”

Adrian and Elvir finish with the fire and move outside to secure the horses to the wagon.  Meanwhile, Danika ushers the children downstairs, her boys looking wide-eyed but brave.  The orphans trail behind, clutching new blankets provided by the Martikovs and makeshift knapsacks.  Saskia lingers at the bottom of the stairs, dragging her feet.  Tears stain her cheeks, and her small hands clutch Ireena’s cloak.

Ireena kneels down to meet Saskia’s eyes, offering a soft smile despite the sorrow in her own.  “You’ll be safe at the winery, Saskia.  Adrian and Elvir will take good care of you.  And... I’ll come visit soon, I promise.”

Saskia’s lower lip trembles as she mumbles, “But... why can’t you come too?”

Ireena hesitates, her hand brushing back Saskia’s unruly hair.  “I have to stay here and help.  Sometimes grown-ups have to do things they don’t want to, to keep others safe.”  Saskia sniffles but nods, wiping her face with the back of her hand.  Ireena gives her a gentle hug, murmuring soothing words. 

Urwin steps forward to embrace his wife, giving Danika a lingering kiss on the forehead.  “Keep them safe,” he whispers.

Adrian clears his throat and gives a short nod, as if to steel himself against the emotion of the farewell.  Elvir pats one of the horses absently, his usually lighthearted demeanor subdued.  He checks his crossbow and then tucks it carefully beside the seat.

Victor watches from the doorway, hands shoved into his pockets, clearly uncomfortable with the emotional display.  Tourmaline lingers by the bar, eyes flicking between the scene and the street outside, as if calculating risks even now.

Finally, with one last wave from Danika and a teary smile from Saskia, the children climb onto the wagon.  Adrian takes the reins, and with a click of his tongue, the horses start forward.  The wagon creaks, rumbling over the cobblestones as it slowly pulls away from the inn.  Saskia twists around to look back, her small hand waving until the wagon rounds the corner and disappears from view.  Ireena lingers in the doorway, staring after them, lost in thought.

Urwin sets a firm hand on her shoulder.  “They’ll be safe.  The winery’s as good a shelter as any.  The old man won't be thrilled with so many more for him to look after but...” he shrugs and gives devious but half-hearted smile.  "... he and I can hash that out another time."

Ireena nods, but doesn’t respond, her gaze still fixed on the empty street where the wagon once was.  The inn, once bustling with conversation, now feels eerily quiet - the subtle creaking of the floors from the children's movement upstairs now conspicuous in its absence.

Yevgeni and Szoldar have already retreated to an upstairs room to sleep.  Victor and Tourmaline do the same (separately).  Ireena, for now, remains downstairs to keep an eye on the bar for Urwin.  

[Will you take a long rest?  Will you all take one together, or set a watch pattern to help downstairs?  It is afternoon now, but it will be the middle of the night before the long rest is complete.]

Soren finally sits down and takes a small sip of wine, looking weary but resolute.  He addresses Urwin, Danika and his four companions.

"So we must decide one thing first.  Enough light remains in the day that we could rest, perhaps an hour to recover, and still venture out for a short excursion before full dark.  We could visit this Tobias Grunfeld.  Make sure he knows we are here for him.  Ask him what he needs of us, if anything.  Small good it does us if the pack he is assembling is picked off in the night by the rival pack of guardsmen.  Or by cultist assassins or Vampire Spawn."

He sighs.  "On the other paw, if we must be fully rested to defend this place tonight, then let us sleep now and wake at midnight."

Burr grunted, " I'm not too badly off if you think I'd be of use."

Giles nods to Urwin, agreeing with him.  Then he smiles towards Victor, giving him assurance with his idea.  “That’s great Victor, if you have a connection with Stanimir, that’s great.  See if you can strengthen his resolve.  The only way this works is if we all work together.  And I do think we need this town as a refuge, if we are going to survive.  I’m not “attached.”  he glares at Tourmaline, “I’m practical.  So.  I think we should rest here.  Set up a watch.  When we wake, we will start moving, coordinated, in teams.”  He glances at Soren, “Packs.  So, who wants to sleep first?  I’m bushed.  Urwin, do you have a bite to eat?  Something to settle my stomach?  I need to rest.  And to pray.”  He takes out his coin, fingering it in his hands.  

Zefla watches the others leave, hoping this isn't the last time she'll see them.  The whole thing had this finality to it that she didn't like.  Waving goodbye to Dannika and the kids, she turns back to the others as they discuss the next plan.

"I am doing just fine.  Though if I don't sleep tonight, exhaustion will step in.  Those that aren't feeling so good, Giles, Soren and anyone else, did they want to go to sleep now, while Burr and I try and get Tobias here?  And maybe Stanimir?  I really feel we should try and keep them safe here as well.  Then Soren and Giles can help watch through the night as Burr and I get our rest?"  She looks at Tourmaline, Ireena and Viktor, "How are the three of you holding up?"

Tourmaline and Victor are both taking advantage of the opportunity to rest in the inn.  Despite the healing magics provided to them, both were knocked unconscious during the battle with the hags and were badly burned by the corrosive pudding.  Ireena, on the other hand, is unharmed but melancholy.

Urwin puts on a pot of hot water and soon has a thick, somewhat grainy porridge warmed up.  "No wolf today, I'm afraid.  And if anyone from town has braved the lake to fish, their bounty hasn't been brought here for sale."

[What is the verdict?  I see proposals to rest up and set out again in the morning, and other proposals to split up, with some resting and others venturing out while there is still daylight.  Is there consensus on the next move?]

Burr nods to Zefla, makes sense to him.

He is also nervous about the others on the road to the vineyard but sees little other option.

Soren puts his cup of wine down half-finished and stands.

"No, Zefla.  If you go, I go.  I only suggested resting for an hour so that I could regain a bit of Silvanus' primal strength, such as the power to summon Bramble.  The not-Father may make his own choice of course, but the more of the pack that stays together, the better, as I see it."

He pauses a moment, then turns to the innkeeper.  "Urwin Martikov, do you know where we should go?  To meet with Tobias Grunfeld?"

Giles sighs when Soren speaks up, saying “Same.”  He was in the process of taking off his backpack, but now he puts it back on.  “If we are to do it, let’s do it quickly, then back here before last light and get rest.  In the morning, we can tackle the brothers Wachter.  We should move with stealth, avoiding conflict.  I do have enough magic left for one last casting of Pass Without Trace…”