The massive blonde bearded warrior briefly ponders what the big hairy thing was before realizing it was most likely himself, frowning at the quite aggressive little toothy dragonchicken. He couldn't help but wonder if the little pesky creature would indeed grow larger if it had enough to eat. He hoped they didn't reproduce quickly or they would quickly threaten the balance of nature with their aggressive eating. With a tired sigh he puts back the drape over the cage, hopefully easing down the toothy dragonchicken inside.

"The big friend would prefer a bed at the inn but he will return at first light to talk more about interesting maps and old forgotten things." Thurodim mutters unenthusiastically and gets up to leave.

Ozyre pays no heed to the gibbering of Sweettooth. When Thurodim rejoins the conversation, he provides some nods of support. "I concur with Thurodim. We can afford it thanks to the payment from the exploits Ember regaled you with, and I imagine sleeping on the floor isn't something we particularly want to build up a streak of. First light feels a bit ambitious, but definitely at one of the earlier ones, we'll saunter back here to discuss. And maybe buy something, too!" He follows a bit behind Thurodim in leaving, throwing "any inn recommendations?" back at Cormorn before getting out the door.

Cormorn rubs his chin in deep thoughts, and takes a few moment to remember.

"Huh…I don’t really sleep in a lot of inns. I don’t recommend the Wailing Wench down by the docks. That places is filthy. I hear the Hammer and the Anvil is good quality for the price. A bit crowded for my taste, though. If you’re looking for something more fancy and pricey, you could try the Golden Cask in the Upper District. Oh…and the group of adventurers I mentioned earlier told me they stayed at a place a bit closer to the gates. The Wyrmling’s Nest, I believe."

"The Hammer and the Anvil will be fine." The massive blonde bearded warrior grunts and leaves, too tired to ask for directions.

Ember looks proudly upon her companions as Cormorn compliments their abilities and nods along. Though she's pretty sure she looks out for them too. She quiets further as he talks more about Grandpa and when her "cousin" yawns, she catches it and yawns even bigger. 

"I don't mind the floor," she says, though the words are stretched and pitched by the yawn. She looks at the others, sure they'll want their own rooms at the inn. But she's in no hurry to spend more nights alone. She's had plenty of those.

The blond-haired barbarian heads out into the night, heading for the Hammer and the Anvil. He would remember being there the day prior, but with the sun down for the night, it still poses a bit of a challenge to find it again.

Ember seems conflicted about leaving the bookstore. The little wizard can feel the day’s toll weighing heavy on her.

Cormorn begins rolling up the maps and stowing them away neatly on the shelves. The old gnome awaits for the others’ decision.

(What will Cork and Ozyre do? What will Ember decide in the end?)

Ozyre hurries behind Thurodim in search of the Hammer and Anvil. Crowded isn't the worst thing in the world, after all, and the gnomish smith found the decor of the place to be rather homey.

Ember watches the others leave, quickly switching her weight from one foot to the other with nervousness over being separated. But with some soothing from Aggie, she relents and gives Cormorn a bear hug good night before scurrying downstairs to find a table or nook to sleep under/in. Though not before finding a candle to light and keep beside her.

Anything to keep the darkness at bay. 

Cork follows along behind Thurodim and Ozyre.  Too tired to hurry, he keeps up just enough to maintain line of sight on the big barbarian, who presumably remembers the way to their target inn.  It feels like ages since he has had a proper sleep... and after tonight it may be ages again, if this talk of mysterious ancient civilizations is any indication.

His tired mind drifts to thoughts of underground crypts and giant forest spirits as he drags his rolling trunk through the dark streets of the new world.

Ember decides to remain at the Pages of History, laying on the hard wood floor by the light of a candle. Only Aggie remains with her, making a nest for itself in the wild mane of red hair of the little wizard.

Meanwhile, the remaining party members make their way through the dark deserted streets of the town, reaching the Market Square and finally, the Hammer and the Anvil. Despite the late hour, there are still lights on inside the establishment.

As you head inside, you find a somewhat crowded room, but surprisingly silent. They all seem enthralled by the performance currently happening on stage. A light blue-skinned tiefling with dark hair is currently playing the luth and singing a doleful melancholic tune. The lyrics tell the story of an urchin down on its luck who finds solace in a caring guardian until they tragically pass away. When the performance ends, the crowd gives a standing ovation and erupts in cheers. 

(If you wish to do anything specific before ending the day with a long rest, go ahead and post it here. Otherwise, the room and board will cost you 2 sp. After the long rest, you can level up to level 4)

Ozyre is interested by the late-night performance. It isn't completely new to him, but that's what makes it interesting; he notices that it's very similar to a poem he once read. He spends some time musing on which version came first, a fruitless endeavor made even more fruitless (less fruitmore?) by his mind being addled from a long day of adventuring and taking in heaps of new information. Adventuring is what he loves to do, of course, but the toll it takes is hefty and enforced by a rather large bridge troll. Once the performance is done, Ozyre pays the silver, hops to his room, does some doffing, and collapses face-first onto the bed, asleep in moments.

The quite weary massive blonde bearded warrior simply asks for a room, having a quick meal and a large beer at the bar, not really paying attention to the performance, paying it all and giving the diminutive giant and the birdman a nod and a grunt before heading to his room, barely making it out of his garments before crashing into bed for a restless sleep, dreaming about poor Bart and his family's unfulfilled dreams of a new life.

The next morning Thurodim would wake up fairly early, washing up and getting dressed, having made a decision he wants to share with his friends, taking a brisk walk in the early morning sun to collect the little one to make sure she had a proper breakfast at the inn before breaking the news.

It's quite a while before Ember drifts off, almost too tired to actually sleep. She looks over her new hitting-stick, clicking the button on and off in rapid successions before putting it away. Mind still running a mile a minute, she traces the maps Cormorn showed them and that strange new language on the hardwood floor with perfect recall. She thinks of Ak’Hela, hoping its ankle is better now. She thinks of the way that sort-of-nice man's head burst beneath the force of Big Man's hammer. She thinks of Cork and Ozyre's excitement at the next possible adventure. And tries her best not to think of what misfortune has befallen her grandpa. 

In the morning, the little wizard is sprawled out beneath the table, sleeping with limbs outstretched like a starfish, though she's quick to wake at any noise Cormorn makes as he readies for the day. 

[Sound of Cork Popping] pays his 2 sp and drags his trunk upstairs, and collapses into bed, not even bothering to put his nightshirt and cap on.

He sleeps in late, savoring what may be his last moments in a real bed.  Then he gets up, brushes his beak, does the necessary feather greasing and preening, and then ambles back downstairs, trunk thumping all the way.

The three that went to the inn spend a good night sleep in a bed that’s actually quite comfy despite being rather simple. It’s a stark contrast with the previous nights sleep on the hard wood floor of the farm house. The signing and celebration continue for a few more hours after you retire to your room. 

In the morning, the inn comes alive fairly early, the servers running around to bring the patrons’ food. There’s a smell of cooked venison sausages and small berries. While Ozyre and Cork find a table to have a group breakfast, Thurodim exits the inn and walks in direction of the bookstore. It’s a sunny late summer day, with no overcast and cool coastal breeze flowing in.

Despite the early hour, there is already several people going about their day. There also seems to be an unusual energy in the street, as several citizens are actively working on cleaning and decorating the streets.

Meanwhile, at the Pages of History, Ember is sleeping soundly. It’s about at that time that Thurodim arrives and knocks on the door, waking the little wizard. As she slowly regains consciousness, she sees a thick wool blanket covering her. She is confident that it wasn’t there before she fell asleep last night.

For a brief moment, with the comfort of the wool blanket and the familiar scent of vellum and parchment and leather surrounding her, Ember is back in the cottage in the woods. Grandpa would wake her soon, gently scolding for sleeping in past the rooster's crow.

But it's not a gentle hand against her forehead that brings her back to the now, but a rapping against wood that reminds her of where she is. 

Ember sits up with a start, nearly knocking her head against the underside of the table. Both wizard and familiar look blearily towards the door, hair and fur similarly mussed about. Scrambling to her feet with the blanket wrapped about her shoulders, she rushes over to answer it.

"Welcome to the Pages of History, where History is just a Page away!" she grins up at Big Man.

The massive blonde bearded warrior smiles as he looks down at the little one as she opens up the bookshop. "Started working here already then?" He says with a deep chuckle. "Come, let me treat you to a proper breakfast at the inn. I think both the gnome and the birdman is waiting for us." He says, turning to head back, offering the little one to hitchhike if she so preferred. "So, did you get any sleep or have you been up reading all night?" He asks with a good-natured smile. "You seem to have a solid lead on your gramps now though."

Ember's stomach grumbles at the thought of breakfast. Securing the wool blanket around her neck by knotting the edges together (looking quite like a cozy cape now), the little wizard yells to Cormorn that she'll be back then takes Big Man up on his offer to hitchhike. With a running start, she leaps up onto his back and scrambles to sit on his shoulders.

Ember crosses her arms atop his head and settles her chin upon them. "I'm not gonna be a bookseller, ya know! I wanna be an adventurer. Like you," she says, giving Thurodim's head a little pat. "And I slept real good cause it kinda smells like home in there. And I think Cormorn gave me this blanket! He's really nice, huh? I wish Grandpa told me about him."

From her vantage point, she notices the extra activity around them. "Hey, whatcha think they're decorating for?"

"Hah, you are already an adventurer child." The massive blonde bearded warrior says with a chuckle, giving the little one's leg a pat as he makes their way back to the inn. "Must be some festivity. Perhaps we can see more of it later, unless your search for gramps take you out into the wild again." He continues as he looks around to see if he can understand what the decorating is all about.

Perception: 12

Ember leans forward to look Thurodim in the eyes, her own amber ones bouncing between each of his.

Takes you...

Maybe she's just imagining it. She's never been very good at reading between the lines, most oft taking people's words at face value. Grandpa said that's called naivety. Still, she frowns then sits back, absently-mindedly trying to sculpt Big Man's hair into a fauxhawk as she looks around as well. 

If she spots someone to ask, she'll shout out, "HEY, MISTER! Good mornin! Whatcha decoratin' for, huh?"