Hex eyes Sylyra suspiciously when he begins to talk negatively about his time in Waterdeep, as though he wasn't constantly complaining about how horrible Phlan was compared to the big city in the past. Despite how snobbish the druid acted, she could feel a little sympathy for him. It's never easy being thrust into such a different lifestyle after a lifetime in another, no matter who they were. It was weirdly reassuring seeing him ignore Auriel though, acting like his usual self. She wasn't particularly surprised at his behaviour, she knew their personalities wouldn't exactly fit well together. All she could do was shrug whenever Auriel glanced at her and Uragum. Though he didn't seem to mind Sylyra ignoring his existence, Hex made an effort to spend some more time with the paladin during the week and even aided him whenever he tried to get something out of Sylyra. She was, however, surprised upon seeing Carl act so interested in Sylyra, even more so seeing the druid reciprocate the energy. It was kind of cute, like a puppy following around their new owner, though she wouldn't dare say that out loud to the dwarf. 

During the night the party decides to get drunk together, Hex holds back on drinking too much herself, much more enjoying herself silently watching everyone else get wasted and listening to their drunken conversations. Besides, she would rather not have to deal with a horrible hangover in the morning. She's grateful for her decision and almost spits out her drink when Auriel calls Sylyra "stunning" and offers to remove his "armor". It takes everything in her to not laugh, covering her mouth with her hand and turning away, pretending to have a coughing fit instead. She never expected to hear those kinds of words come from the mouth of a such devoted paladin. She eyes the druid with intrigue, anticipating his response.

Her curiosity quickly moves from Sylyra and Auriel to Carl when the dwarf begins to drunkenly spill his heart out at the table. She listens quietly until he inevitably passes out and helps bring him back up to his room to rest for the night. She returns to their table afterwards, plopping onto her seat and taking a big gulp of her drink. Hex rests her head on one hand and twirls her glass with the other, a melancholic expression on her face as she watches the amber liquid swirl around. She wasn't too drunk, just a little tipsy but it seemed enough to loosen her lips ever so slightly. "Seems like you all have familial problems, huh? I don't know if I should be grateful for never really knowing my blood family or not after hearing all your stories." She wasn't expecting an answer from whoever was still at the table, more mumbling to herself than looking for conversation. 

However long the night lasts, Hex would stay awake the longest, making sure everyone else returned to their rooms safety before retiring for the night herself.

 Carl wakes up the next morning and walks down the stairs, sitting at the breakfast table and grumpily pushes his eggs around the plate, flanking them on this side, then a sneak attack around on the left side, then finally inhaling them with a full frontal assault as he sips his apple cider and coffee and mulls over what an ass he was last night.  “Hadta go blurtin everything out, didn’t ya.  Scarin’ these good people like.  Bet they’ll want to be rid of me.  F*&^ing idiot Carl, whydontcha just keep shootin’ off your yap ever chance ya get.  Idiot.”  He picks a piece of egg out of his beard and eats it, glancing up at the stairs and wondering who’ll be down first to look down their nose at him with pity and condescension.  “Probably damn Sylyra.  Or he’s probably up at the buttcrack of dawn  and out chasing’ some loon or turkey, trying to get it to talk to him.  I wonder if they’ll want me around for whatever comes next.. wonder what that will be.  I just hope Auriel, Hex and Uragum don’t think less of me….”

Auriel frowns when his sight doesn't reveal anything special surrounding Carl. He really thought he had felt something out of place there. Must have been his imagination. He leaves the dwarf's room, still thoughtful about his story, and how closely he feels it to his own. Part of it, at least.

As he passes near Hex and the others to call it a night, he overhears the ranger and stops right next to her. From his standing position, it looks like he wants to say something, but doesn't really find the words. He hasn't even told his story, has he? He's not sure he's even prepared to say some parts of it aloud. So he, who always tries to have something positive to say, finds himself lost for words. In the end he just mutters:

- I'm sorry, Hex, I wish I knew how to answer. I just ... - he caresses his hair a little, as if thinking what to add. He finally says -  Hope you guys have a good rest. Got to wake up early tomorrow and won't make it back until the evening. I think. See you all then.

The next day, he wakes up early and rushes for the temple. Nervous as a school boy, even though he's a fully grown elf. He thinks about how Carl must be doing on his way there.

When Hex returns to the table, Sylyra, who didn't join the party that took Carl to his room, smiles contentedly at her over his wine. "Familial problems? You're my family now, Hex. We don't have problems, do we? You and Uragum and me. And ... maybe Carl." Sylyra giggles. "Frog bait." He scowls a little as he is clearly thinking back. "I thought Ola was family, but she abandoned me. Left. She was so ... beautiful. But now she's gone. And Arnald. And Sly. Where'd they go?" His scowl deepens. "But not Brainy," he says, mispronouncing the sorcerer's name. "She was never family. Too stuffy. She's not cool like us," he says, his smile returning. He reaches out and playfully taps the tiefling on the shoulder with his fingertips. "That's funny. Cause you're a demon. From the hells." He giggles again. Suddenly looking excited, he stands and grabs for Hex's hand. "Dance with me!" he says, despite the fact that there is no music.

Hex simply gives Auriel a thankful look and bids him goodnight as he leaves. When Sylyra begins his own drunken ramblings, she looks shocked for a moment, hearing the druid call her his family. A warm feeling fills her heart and she can't help but smile. She was never going to let him forget he said that. Suddenly, but only for a moment, she remembers the one she used to call family, a wave of melancholy sweeping over her only to disappear as quickly as it came as Sylyra continues to ramble.

Hex hums along as he list off their previous companions, reaching out to place a gentle hand on his arm as he was obviously disappointed by their leaving. She also couldn't help but wonder where they were now and if they were well. She chuckles when he makes his disdain for Briny so obvious and giggles to his own joke. "I don't know. I liked Briny. She was kind of cute, in a bookworm sort of way, you know?"  She's just about to take a sip of her drink when he suddenly grabs her hand and invites her to dance, only just managing to not spill all over herself. She contemplates his offer for just a second before shrugging, chugging the rest of her drink and letting druid pull her from the table with a laugh. "Going to show me those Waterdavian dance skills of yours, hm?"

Despite the wine, Sylyra does a fairly decent job of smoothly spinning Hex around the floor. He has clearly been trained in the art — or at least has a lot of experience — and Hex finds it easy to follow his lead. She somehow understands what he wants her to do and where to go. Or perhaps he is very good and adapting to her own style. Either way, he is confident and suave. But after a while, the elf seems to wind down. What was earlier a more energetic romp becomes a slow half-waltz. His cheek by her ear, Hex can hear him humming quietly to himself some tune she doesn't recognize. Finally, as it is beginning to feel awkward, Sylyra steps back. For a second, his face looks sad, but he drops his head and shoulders in a sort of bow, and when he lifts his chin again, he smiles down at the tiefling. "Thank you," he says quietly. "I think I'll retire to my chambers now." He brushes by her and heads for his room.

The next morning, Sylyra makes his appearance a little after Carl. Once again, he is carrying Morisúrë's cage. The raven ruffles her feathers when the cage is placed on the table, but she doesn't complain audibly. Carl looks at the elf, and it's apparent that he is fighting a hangover as well. But he looks pleased all the same. Dropping into a chair, the druid sighs audibly. "Good morning, frog bait," he says more quietly than usual. He peers down at Carl's plate and wrinkles his thin nose. "Eggs," he says disapprovingly. "Not this morning." He turns and flags down the thin human female with long, black hair behind the bar — Imizael. "Breakfast ale," he orders, holding up two fingers. Turning back to Carl, Sylyra stares at the dwarf for a few heartbeats before lifting a hand and wagging a finger in his face. "It's time you fessed up, Rocky. What's up with that axe and those books? Are you in league with something dangerous?"

“Ugh…” is the reply to “frog bait” that comes up to Sylyra.  Carl holds his head in his hands, then straightens up and starts picking his teeth, removing the remnants of some egg.  “Axe and books.   Yeah, I did tell you about that didn’t I?”  Carl looks at Sylyra and gives a weak grin.  “Well, in league with something dangerous.  That’s vague.  I’m “in league” with you, and thus far you seem pretty friggin dangerous.  So yes, I suppose so.”  He swirls around the last cold remains of his coffee, before pounding it down.  

“I don’t know who tis, or how they found me.  I read till my eyes were going to pop out of my head, trying to find a way to find my family’s heirloom, and get it back again.  Something deep in here” points to his heart, and then his head, “is helping me.  But I don’t understand it.  I don’t even know its name.  I just know that it has given me powers.  But it… expects something… expects my service… in return.  And it has a terrible temper, and an awful sense of humor.  It was laughing at me all the while I was in the belly of that frog.”  He turns and looks at Sylyra dead away, straight on in the face.  “It seemed like it would’ve been just fine with me dyin right then.  Cruel sunova*****.  But… it helps me as well.  Whoever “it” is.  Say.  When I was in there.  Did you help me?  Did you save me?”  He looks at Sylyra, bleary eyed with a questioning look.

Uragum is seen little that first day of their break.  Not particularly in a positive mood despite their saving the countryfolk.  The near death experience had him feeling triumphant for a bit but as reality set in at how close death had come, so too did his sense of inadequacy.  He had slipped by so many time due to the healings of his companions, and one of these times, it will be one to many.  Feeling his only recourse was self-improvement he thought about what he needed.  Better gear for one, but that cost money.  Better spells, which again would cost time and money to buy them.  Lastly, better training.  It all pointed to one spot... Until he had more gold, he might as well train and their was one place he could try to do both.

With a bit of trepidation, Uragum connected with his contacts at the Fighting Pits.  Unsure if his reputation had calmed a bit or if rumors of cheating were still floating about he angled to get a match set up.  To that end, he tried to sweeten the deal but making the rounds to several taverns in town to drum up interest and hopefully pack the stands with more bodies.  To that end, he'd try to enlist the help of his companions.  Drinks, and bonding, and the promotion of sanctioned violence!

When fighting time came due, Uragum moved out to the pit.  Maybe his skill would prove adequate today and he'd walk away with enough to look at some magical enhancement... or maybe he'd just walk away with a few more scars.  

Pit fight rolls:

Athletics: 18 vs 19

Attack roll replacing Acrobatics (add 1 if you'd allow spell attack rather than weapon attack): 13 vs 18

Lastly special con roll: con 12 + hit dice 1 vs 9

1 success is 50 gp, 2 is 100gp and 3 is 200 gp

Never really one for ballroom dancing, Hex somehow finds herself actually enjoying it as Sylyra skilfully leads her along. She closes her eyes and listens to him hum, appreciating the slow peacefulness of the moment in their otherwise chaotic lives. She gives him a smile when he steps back, though frowns slightly when she notices his sad expression. He excuses himself before she can ask him what's wrong. She watches him leave before returning to the table to drink by herself for about an hour before tired eventually overcomes her and she returns to her own room for the night.

The next day, Hex actually wakes up a little earlier in the morning to run an errand or two she remembered she needed to complete. She had been meaning to sell off her spare shortsword after acquiring her scimitar but always seemed to forget. Though it's was nice to have spare weapons, she preferred to travel light and needed a little extra gold. After selling off her shortsword, she goes to see if there are any stores with a potion of healing available to spend that extra gold before returning to the inn. She arrives to see Carl and Sylyra sitting together at a table and decides to go join them. "Good morning, you two. Hope you both aren't too hungover from last night."

Sylyra listens to Carl's rambling, not liking what he's hearing, but also not surprised that Carl has fallen victim to someone or something's trickery.

"Say. When I was in there. Did you help me? Did you save me?”

Sylyra slaps Carl on the shoulder. "Did I save you?" The elf puffs out his chest. "Of course I did. The others wanted to leave you behind, but I made sure we rescued you first." He leans forward, looking serious again. "But we need to know more about this ... whatever or whoever it is that's expecting you to serve it. Does it have a name? What is it asking you to do? And what is this heirloom you keep going on about?" He turns as the familiar clack of Hex's boots catches his ears. He leans back again and runs a hand down one side of his white-blonde hair then pushes it behind one pointed ear.

"Good morning, you two. Hope you both aren't too hungover from last night."

Sylyra makes a dismissive noise. "Hungover? Me?" But it is clear he is speaking and moving more conservatively than usual. He reaches over and grasps one of the two mugs of breakfast ale delivered to the table and takes a deep draft.

Somewhere else in Phlan, a red-headed eladrin rests a knee on white marble floor. He's not alone. There are a few other men and women, of different ages and races, standing and watching in respectful silence. They have met but a couple of days ago, when he first entered the temple feeling somewhat lost, but hopeful nonetheless. An despite knowing each other for such a small amount of time, an bond already joins them. A bond forged by the words they each have pronounced on that day.

It is the red-headed eladrin turn's now, and as he places a hand on his heart, he touches his holy symbol. But not only that. Tied around his neck, but hidden inside his clothes, hangs the signet ring he received from his father all those decades ago. A ring he used to wear with pride, but that he chose to hide when everything went awry. At that very moment, standing before the invisible yet perceptible pressence of his god, he decides that needs to change. His past is what lead him to this moment. His mistakes will not make him weak, but the opposite. The elf he was up to this moment will not run from his past, but embrace it, learn from it, grow thanks to it. So he clutches Tyr's symbol and the signet depicting Fen'hareth, the Great Wolf of the tales of old that first birthed the now disappeared house, and softly whispers:

- Ni na i aeglin. Ni na hain na i auth. Cabedon vi lembi, han na penna edregol na veleth. A chenno Tyr: Ni velui i certh, a ni velui i thorn. Lasto na harthach, le beriadon in vi dîn.

A warm and brigth light suddenly shines in his hand for a second. As the elf opens it, he sees in awe that the holy symbol and the signet ring have been fused into one. As if they had been meant to be that way from the very begining.

The red-headed eladrin stands up and smiles warmly to his fellow paladins. A new day has risen for them. 

Quote from FairIthilien >>

- Hope you guys have a good rest. Got to wake up early tomorrow and won't make it back until the evening. I think. See you all then.

As the paladin is on his way back to the Laughing goblin, he remembers what he said the previous night and finds he estimated wrongly. It's definitely later than that.

After swearing the oath he spent some time with his fellow paladins, talking about their past - though he didn't give many details - and their plans for the future. He left the temple with a few new ideas in his mind. For example, he wanted to begin learning Abyssal and Infernal, as those were the languages spoken by fiends. Learning Abyssal would surely be tough, but he would ask Hex about teaching him Infernal and offer to teach her Sylvan in return.

The eladrin barely hit the stores before they closed. There, he sold the shield and the blowgun, as he wouldn't be using any of them. He kept the darts, as Hex would surely be interested in them.

He then roamed for a while before actually heading for the inn. What had happened that day was pretty big for him. Too big to simply go the Laughing goblin and sit there as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Auriel felt he needed a little time alone before that even happened. So he just roamed, and meditated about the oath, as he did so. 

Some good hours later, he entered the inn. It was pretty late, so the non-elven folk would most probably be alseep. Probably best to stop to talk in the morning, with all of them present. 

AURIEL:

OOC: My ruling on selling equipment, since RAW leaves a lot to be desired, is 20% of the original price, so Auriel can sell his shield for 2 gp. The blowgun, since it was looted from a monster, doesn't have any selling value.

Auriel's contact to the Quivering Forest is a ranger who lives on the outskirts of the forest named Serelis. Serelis is one of the very few who is able to make any contact at all within the forest, as the tenuous and historic truce between the fey of the forest and the town of Phlan is extremely well guarded, and the rules of that truce are very simple: Do not disturb the Quivering Forest and the fey will be willing to protect Phlan the next time they are called upon. The trip to Greenhall from the forest's edge takes three full days, which means Serelis is presumably on his way back as Auriel's downtime concludes.

OOC: Added 2 gp to Auriel's inventory for the sale of his shield. Removed 10 gp from Auriel's inventory for cost of living expenses during downtime.

SYLYRA:

As your downtime concludes, Morisúrë has learned the basics of the "come" and "hide" commands, performing them reliably enough when rewards are provided.

OOC: Sylyra has gained one renown with the Harpers. Removed 5 gp from inventory for cost of living expenses during downtime not spent working.

HEX:

Chaab has no additional work for you at the moment, but like Hex and the others, is concerned about the idea of a black dragon meddling in the Twilight Marsh so close to Phlan. As usual, he asks you to continue to keep him apprised, as the Zhentarim may have more work for you in the future regarding your findings.

OOC: Hex has gained one renown with the Zhentarim. Added 2 gp for the sold shortsword. Added a potion of healing and removed 50 gp. Removed 10 gp from inventory for cost of living expenses during downtime.

CARLTHUZAD:

Fuselad and the rescued dwarves with him participate heartily in the discussion on the way back to the Crossing Inn. "I'm in yer debt," Fuselad concludes as the raft is tied to the docks at the riverside inn. "And make no mistake, it's a debt that'll be repaid if it takes my entire life to do it."

OOC: Carlthuzad is able to recoup his living expenses during downtime by working.

URAGUM:

Your return to the underground fighting pits of Phlan is less glamorous than you may have hoped, but you do not find yourself completely turned away as you feared. Despite your admittance to the fights, however, your easily recognized stature and soured reputation, undeserved though it may be, means that your matches occur outside of the spotlight of the largest pool of bettors. One lively rogue of an opponent with blazing speed manages to score a win against you, but you pummel the others, slowly regrowing your reputation as a threat in the pits. Unfortunately for the rogue, his victory over you does not propel his own reputation as he may have hoped; as you collect your winnings, you hear whispers that his victory was a false one - after all, the goliath he was fighting has been known to cheat in the pits before.

OOC: Due to a previous complication from pit fighting, you are only able to collect half of the standard reward. Added 50 gp to your inventory and removed 10 gp for cost of living expenses during downtime.

When Auriel returns to the inn late at night, he finds Hex sitting at a table by herself, looking fairly bored and rolling a potion of healing around. She immediately perks up when she sees the paladin and makes her towards him. "Finally. I've been waiting for you to come back for ages. I have a gift for you." She holds out the potion of healing towards Auriel. "When you took a beating from Bogclaw, I thought it'd be a good idea to make sure you had one on hand. You're a front liner after all."

Auriel blinks in surprise. He hadn't expected to see Hex, and much less to be gifted a potion. He eyes the potion and decides that, after all, he may need to sit for a moment before going to his room. As he sits in the nearest empty spot, the eladrin realizes that the empty potion Sylyra threw at his feet might have left a deeper wound than he initially thought, and Hex gets the feeling that this filled potion has done some healing already, even if it hasn't been uncorked yet.

From his seated position, the paladin takes the potion and looks at Hex with grateful eyes. Eyes that are no longer reddish-brown, but light green. He envelops the potion with the right hand and approaches that hand to his heart.

- Thank you. This means a lot. - he says with a smile on his face, which is now framed in pale green hair with strands of blond, and even lighter green tattoos. - And sorry for being so late! You know? I swore my oath earlier today. So I guess I'm a full paladin now. It is strange that pronouncing a few words can weight heavily in your heart, but feel lifted by them at the same time. Weird. Very weird. I needed some time to think about all that for a while, by myself. That's why I returned so late.

The eladrin stops talking for a moment, and Hex can feel that we has not expecting to talk about any of this to anybody else who was not a paladin. At least not that night. He changes from a somewhat shy tone to a more cheerful one before adding:

- Oh! And I've thought of asking you a favour. I would like to learn some of the languages spoken by the not so friendly denizers of the Abyssal Plane, the Nine Hells and such. So, would you please teach me Infernal, Hex? I could try to teach you Sylvan in return. If you'd like. Anyway, don't want to keep you up late. Codladh go maith, Hex. Féach leat ar maidin, yes? That is Sylvan for "Sleep well, Hex. See you in the morning".

@DM: I forgot about rations. Sylyra kept 2 back of what he had to give to the captives so he and Hex would have something to eat while they waited on the island, so even those should be removed from his inventory. I'd like to pick up 4 more rations for the future. Also, should I be buying birdseed?

Hex gives Auriel a soft and understanding smile. "It's alright, you don't need to explain yourself to me. Congratulations on becoming a full paladin."

When he asks if she can teach him Infernal, she nods. "Of course, I'd be happy to teach you some Infernal. I'm not sure I'd make a good teacher but I'll do my best. I won't say no to learning some Sylvan as well." In response to his Sylvan, Hex bids Auriel goodnight in Infernal before heading back to her room to sleep.

(Ohh yeah, I totally forgot about rations. Hex would by 5 rations to stock up again when she went to buy the potion of healing in the morning.)

Auriel, very deep inside, thinks that "goodnight" sounds more like a promise to gut him than an actual well wish, buuut that's probably how it is meant to sound. In any case, he nods appreciatively. That's his first word in Infernal. Only several hundreds more, give or take, to reach this particular goal. 

The next morning he wishes a good morning in general, then adds one "good morning, Sylyra" specifically for the elf who is still giving him the silent treatment. And a "Maidin mhaith, Hex" for the tiefling. He also gives her his 6 poisoned blowgun darts, who are still carefully enveloped so as not to provoke undesired accidents.

- Not the greatest gift in the world, I know, but I'm sure you'll put them to good use. - he adds.

(OOC: I also want to join the "Let's not starve" team. 4 for more rations for Auriel, please).

In response to Auriel's directed good morning, Sylyra jerks as if surprised, then casually looks in the eladrin's direction, saying, "Good —", but seeing Auriel's change in appearance, the druid stops, scowls and stares.

Auriel addresses Hex, "Maidin mhaith, Hex. Not the greatest gift in the world, I know, but I'm sure you'll put them to good use," he says, handing her the darts.

Sylyra, continuing to stare, sputters. "Wha? Tha? Uh? ... Green?!" he finally gets out, sounding completely flabbergasted.

(OOC: sorry, but as much as I like the reaction, only Hex has seen Spring 😅 Auriel turned to his base - and surely uncool in Sylyra's eyes - base season after he went to his room. He's now speaking in Autumn red!)