"We have a problem with weaving accusations that my friends are animals, ogres and witches into your "questions".  But don't worry.  Emelia and I can heal us from anything  you throw at us."

Ember spends sorcery points ro cast another Mass Healing Word for another 6 pts healing on everyone.  Cuts seal & bruises heal while the bullies watch.

With a slight gag, Emilia wipes the blood on her hands onto her boots before standing back up. Goodness, that was disgusting. To sweeten the man's deal, she casts a healing word on the man. "Drunkards..." And, like the man she just healed, she has her own little surge of vigor as her small electric burns and cuts heal up. Marvelous.

"Thank you, friend."  With little bit of brute strength she has, she lifts the man to his feet and does the sign of the cross on both herself and him.  "In nómine Patris et Fílii et Spíritus Sancti. Amen."

"Witchcraft and magic, all of you! Come on boys, we wouldn't want to sully our good names by hanging around with folk like these." The leader spits, then walks away, his two goons following him.

The drunk man stands with Emilia's help, then almost immediately topples over. Luckily, Demetrius helps Emilia catch him. The man speaks, though his speech is heavily slurred "Thank you." then with a moan, he passes out. Another voice speaks "Well, I suppose you should bring the fellow inside. Do us no good letting him rot out here." 

The voice belongs to a man, medium height, stocky build, the classic bartender mustache. He beckons for you to follow him, as he steps inside.

"Yeah, I suppose 'witch' is a one thing you could call us... but it's a lot better than the things I could think of to call thugs like you," Beshlog growls at the retreating goons.

He gives an appreciative smile to the bartender-stash guy.

"Thanks," he says, then to the drunk he asks a quest. "Mister, can you walk on your own? If not, I can help you out. No point having Emilia try to carry you when there's someone a lot better suited to the task."

Quote from Raccoon_Master >>

"Witchcraft and magic, all of you! Come on boys, we wouldn't want to sully our good names by hanging around with folk like these." The leader spits, then walks away, his two goons following him.

The drunk man stands with Emilia's help, then almost immediately topples over. Luckily, Demetrius helps Emilia catch him. The man speaks, though his speech is heavily slurred "Thank you." then with a moan, he passes out. Another voice speaks "Well, I suppose you should bring the fellow inside. Do us no good letting him rot out here." 

The voice belongs to a man, medium height, stocky build, the classic bartender mustache. He beckons for you to follow him, as he steps inside.

 The man is unconscious currently and will have to be carried into the inn.

"Yeah, okay, that was probably a dumb question... I can go ahead and take him off your hands and get him wherever he needs to be."

Beshlog can easily pick up the man, whose malnourished body is basically skin and bones. You all walk in, and are accosted with a dour, smoky place.

Patrons sit throughout the lower level, sullenly drinking mugs of some sort of foul-smelling, steaming, alchohol. A fire burns in a fireplace, though most of the smoke fills the top of the room. Beshlog and Artun get the worst of it, and start coughing a little. To your left, is a bar, with huge kegs lining the wall behind it. 

The man leads you up a flight of stairs set into the back wall, into a long, narrow hallway. The man pushes open the door, and lets you set the man down on a ragged bed in the miniscule room, supposedly the ones you can rent.

With a sigh, the man turns back to you "How about you come downstairs and buy a drink. It's not every day the heroes of the realm show up to my tavern. We can discuss sleeping arrangements at the bar. You are staying here, aren't you?"

Artan back to his regular 6ft self, "We aren't aware of anywhere else here to stay, so I assume we are staying here. A drink sounds about right though" and he will follow the man back downstairs, ordering a cider. 

"Soup, broth, tea, ale, whatever you've got.  But first, is there anyplace to wash the ...grime off before we eat or drink? 

 Ember looks with disgust at the tree slime & monster drool residue from the night as she explains.

"Sorry, only got this stuff." the bar-man hoists a mug filled with the same nasty liquid from before onto the counter, pushing it towards Artun. He pushes a second drink towards Ember

"Well, hasn't rained in a few days, so I reckon there ain't much water to wash off with. Can't use the river, on account of the affliction it causes."

Artan will accept the liquid. Something is better than nothing.... usually. 

He then uses druidcraft with the weather predicting part of it, to see if rain is on its way. (ooc, is this affliction news to us, or something we would be aware of by now?)

This affliction is news to you. Maybe Artun, having lived in the forest, might have heard whispers of something sinister poisoning the river, but you don't know the exact specifics.

It seems that...Hmm...it will rain soon. But the rain looks strange, unlike anyhting you have ever seen. The rain is a...sickly green? The stares at Artun. Clearly, while not as open about it, most of the townsfolk share some of Jlurns and the Bullies sentiments about magic. The bar-man keeps quite. And looks away, pretending to polish a mug as if he never saw anything. He looks almost afraid.

"I can help out a bit with the grime," Beshlog says. "I have a spell that should be able to get us cleaned up. Would have been nice to get a real bath, though."

(Repeated castings of prestidigitation should be able to clean our clothing at least.)

"Something in the river certainly seems bad. But possibly not the worst thing to come." Artan stands up and addresses the room "Yes I have magic. Don't worry, I use it for good. Magic is a tool, it can be great in the right hands and deadly in the wrong, no different to a sword. What the magic is currently telling me however, is that you all need to stay indoors. Rain is coming, but the rain looks corrupted. Possibly not unlike your river. All I can say with certainty is that it is arriving in the next 24 hours, but could be imminently, I would suggest going home as soon as you can, or arranging to stay here until the rain passes. There is no telling what the water will do if it touches you."

"The standard means of purification -boiling, distillation- don't remove the affliction from the water?  Any whiskey strong enough to clean the grime off?"

 Ember says as she tastes the drink.

Quote from Arthuropodd >>

"The standard means of purification -boiling, distillation- don't remove the affliction from the water?  Any whiskey strong enough to clean the grime off?"

 Ember says as she tastes the drink.

 "We tried that, but it jsut made it worse. Apparently, heat turns it into a gas that chokes everyone. And this here ain't whiskey. Want another?"

"What exactly does the water do to those who bathe in it or drink it? It might offer some guidance into what the rain might do" 

"Oh the rain. That's been coming forever. All of us are used to its effects, though I don't know how it would affect someone like you. A newcomer, I mean" the bartender hastily adds. "Don't worry though, as long as you stay inside you'll be fine. Now, how many rooms do you want for the night? They sleep two each"

At the fact that he was so dismissive of the rain, and vague about the effects when asked, Artan is a bit suspicious. They are scared of magic but not of deadly rain. (Insight check on the barkeep, specifically trying to see if he seems like he has an ulterior motive for keeping us inside and giving us rooms, 9 (4+5)) 

Artun doesn't notice anything about the bartenders behavior. The man asks again, almost a bit forcefully this time.

"The rooms sleep two. How many do you want?" The bar-tender leans forward.

Anyone other than Artun, make a perception check if you wish. The room you are in is dim-light, if anyone doesn't have darkvision.