As you sat at the bar, you'd notice the inn's proprietor walking over to you, he looked shorter than the humans you were used to dealing with as a templar, and he smiled an uneasy, but still friendly smile. "I take it you're also here for the Umbrage Hill job? Those two fellows over there will be able to help you. In the meantime, I'll be bringing drinks over to that table for all three of you. It seems to me that, well. That's what you're all after anyways." He said, having directed you to a Halfling, appearing to be of some holy order themselves, and a Human, clearly a soldier of sorts, taking the gold coin and handing it back to you, before heading into the cellar where he kept the drinks.

"I sure am!" Minrakar replies. "Thanks for the suggestion." With that, he stands up, his chair creaking in relief, and makes his way over to where the soldier-looking fellow and halfling sat. "I heard y'all are going to help escort that midwife lady back to Phandalin," he remarks once close enough to the table. "I was planning on doing the same thing, so would you mind if I joined you?" he asks as he plops down on an unfortunate chair at the same table as the others. Now that you're close to him, you can a faint cow-like musk coming from him, though it isn't overpowering. 

"I'm Minrakar by the way," he rumbles as he reaches out with a large, burly hand connected to an equally burly arm in greeting. "I'm a squire from the Iron Templars." Now that he's next to you, you notice a silvery medallion hanging from a fine chain around his thick neck partially hidden amongst the dense, black fur of his neck and chest. The medallion is emblazoned with a clenched fist with rays emanating from it like rays coming off of the sun. Some of you might recognize it as the symbol of the Iron Templars, a knightly order that had been growing in popularity and reknown recently.

Merrick holds his hand out in return and laughs as it vanishes almost completely into Minrakar's hand.  "The Iron Templars?"  He shakes his head.  "My apologies friend, they are not a group I am familiar with.  Myself, I am a cleric of Pelor, praise the light.  May his radiance shine over Phandalin," and he laughs, "and if it doesn't, I'll try to help anyway regardless."  Taking his hand back he looks over at the inns proprietor.  "I guess this midwife must be a fair way out of town.  The owner mentioned dragons.  I must admit that I wasn't expecting that kind of trouble here."  He raises his eyebrows.  "Sounds like fun!"

"Sure does," Minrakar replies with a grin. He leans back in his chair and extends his arms out in a stretch. Holy cow, he was tired! Looking to the others at the table, he leans forward rests his folded arms atop the table. With friendly, encouraging smile and a slight twinkly in his eye, he asks, "So what about the rest of you? What are your names?"

As you all start to get comfortable, you notice the innkeeper walk up, three bottles in hand. "None of you gave me any specific requests for a drink, just ale and beer if memory serves correct, and I figured it'd be in my best interest to bring the three of you a bottle each. No need to pay, today it's on me. As for meal requests, the cook has just informed me we've ran out of everything except some mutton and potatoes." He sets the bottles down on the table and then looks at Merrick his face turning serious. "As for the room situation, you're in luck. I've got four rooms available at the moment, so feel free to choose one with an open door. I've gotten one complaint of late from a gnome who stayed in one of the rooms. Said there were rats. Not the giant variety, luckily, but I've been trying to deal with 'em. So if you see one, feel free to skewer it."

Roven, slightly surprised by the halfling's gesture, acknowledges him with a nod and moves to sit down. "That's right, I'm not a local," he confirms, settling into his seat. "And indeed, my intent is to ensure Adabra Gwynn's well-being. It looks like our goals might be aligned." His glance briefly meets the Minotaur's, conveying a silent acknowledgment of the diverse assembly gathered for a shared objective. "The name's Roven Senthem," he offers, reaching out his hand in friendship. "Seems we could form an effective group. Pooling our talents and insights might just be the key to assisting the midwife. What do you think?" His approach is inviting, suggesting a collective effort, with the underlying belief in the strength found in unity.

"Our thanks for the beverages," Roven tells the innkeeper, hoisting a bottle in a salute of gratitude, then considers their provisions for the night. "For weary souls like us, mutton and potatoes are a grand banquet. We're genuinely thankful for whatever is served."

Upon the mention of available rooms and a slight rodent problem, a glimmer of humor dances in Roven's gaze. "Rats, is it? My journey has seen far tougher challenges. They won't bother us in the slightest." He offers Merrick and the halfling a reassuring nod, suggesting such small troubles are nothing to fret about. "We're well equipped to handle it. Your warning and the offer of shelter are greatly valued, especially coming to the end of a demanding day."

Minrakar nods his thanks to the barkeeper as he brings over some drinks. “I’m more than happy take care of any rats I may see. Thanks for the hospitality!” 

Turning his attention back to those at the table, he listens attentively as the other man talks, Roven he said his name was. “I agree,” he says. “I feel like we’d be a pretty good group.” He starts absentmindedly rubbing his head where his horns jutted out, a habit of his he picked up since becoming a minotaur. Despite it being over four years now, he still hadn’t quite gotten used having horns. “I’m fairly good with a glaive, but what about the rest of you?”

"Nothing like splatting a few rats," Merrick grins.  "The name's Merrick.  I really should introduce myself, I suppose,"  he says with a light hearted laugh.  "Mutton stew suits me down to the ground,  which isn't very far.  I for one could do with a bed and some rest for the night."  He looks around at the others gathered at the table.  "How about we set off to Miss Gwynn's place in the morning.  By the sounds of it, the local folk haven't had much luck in persuading her to return to town."  He giggles.  "Could be we're dealing with a battleaxe of a different variety.  It might well take a whole day!"  His eyes flash with amusement.  "And I guess it won't go down too well if we drag her back to town tied up in ropes."


Edit to reply to Minrakar:

Merrick grins at the Minotaur.  "Not so good at hitting things.  Better with a bow me," and the halfling leans forward and touches the glass he's drinking from while holding the flame burst symbol round his neck.  "Illuminatus!" 

The glass bursts into a bright light which shines right through the inns common room.  "Ooft.  I usually do that outside where it's not so bright."  He waves a hand over the glass and the light vanishes.  "I'm better with magic; not quite the right shape to get into hand to hand fights." 

"Marvello".  As soon as he whispers the word, the torches and lit candles in the inn begin to flicker ominously, like they're caught in a draught.  "I find I can make people uncomfortable when I need to too."  He grins and waves his hand, and the flames settle back down to normal.

Roven agrees with the idea of their effective collaboration. "Minrakar, your proficiency with the glaive is commendable. As for myself," he continues, leaning back slightly, "years of military life have made me quite familiar with the longsword and shield."

Turning towards Merrick, Roven nods with a grin at the halfling's magical demonstration. "Merrick, your magical abilities are clearly a powerful asset," he comments, clearly impressed by the display. "Between Minrakar's strength, your magic, and my combat experience, we form a versatile team."

Roven's manner suggests deep respect for the unique skills each party member contributes. "I believe our combined capabilities equip us well for any obstacles we might encounter." He looks at both his companions, signaling eagerness to face their adventures together, confident in their collective strength.

A haughty young half-elf in fashionable chain armor enters and says loudly, "Is anyone here lookjing into this Adabara Gwynn thing?" "I wish to be of service."

One of Minrakar’s ears twitches as he catches someone mention Adabra. He turns in his seat and sees a newcomer standing in the doorway, a half-elf by the looks of it. He waives the newcomer over and gestures for them to take a seat at their table. 

“We three plan on paying her a visit tomorrow,” he rumbles when the newcomer joins them. “You’re free to join us if you’d like.” He offers one of his meaty hands out in greeting as he introduces himself with a smile. “I’m Minrakar. Pleasure to meet you!)

"Colember."

"Merrick", the halfling says, leaning forward and proffering his hand.  He laughs.  "Is it really going to take four of us to bring one midwife back to town?  I guess she must be the dragon the innkeep was talking about!"  He smiles and lifts a hand.  "I'm only jesting.  I'm sure she's lovely, though it may still be tricky to persuade her to leave her home.  I doubt any of us would want to drag her here against her will.  If she's a well loved member of the townsfolk, well....I'd rather start off on the right foot, so to speak."

As the half-elf approaches, Roven senses a potential ally. Minrakar's hearty welcome prompts Roven to introduce himself and affirm their shared mission to Adabra Gwynn. "I'm Roven Senthem. Glad you're with us," he offers warmly. Reacting to Merrick's jest, Roven smiles, noting their task might indeed require delicate negotiation rather than force. "Convincing Adabra demands a careful, respectful approach. We're here to help, not impose," he explains. Roven emphasizes the need for diplomacy and understanding. "Our visit is from concern. With a thoughtful dialogue, we aim to assure her of Phandalin's support," he concludes.

“Yeah, probably best not to upset the locals,” he says with a slight nod to Merrick and Roven. “I heard that the area around here is pretty dangerous, so I doubt she’ll need much convincing that being back in town is safer than living by herself.”

While an easy and uneventful mission did sound nice, Minrakr hoped they would run into at least a little bit of trouble along the way. After all, he chose to come here to prove himself worthy of being accepted into the Iron Templars fully, and one didn’t get in by just escorting people. He needed to test himself against something worthy enough to please the Templars, and he hoped that the wilds surrounding Phandalin would do the trick.

As it seems you all are in agreeance to go seek out the local midwife and get her to return, and - assumably - paid the fee to stay one night at the inn, as well as whatever fee the innkeeper made you pay for whatever food you ate, which for the sake of simplicity, we'll say the total bill between all of you is 16 gold, split amongst yourselves however you decide, just before you step foot outside of the door to the inn, the innkeeper stops you, "Wait!" he cries, walking at a brisk pace up to the four of you, "I should tell you, Umbrage Hill is a fair bit to the south. I'd advise against following the Miner's Trail to get there. It'll take you a bit too far west if I remember correctly. Head toward the mountains until you see a lone windmill atop a hill. You'll know it when you see it."

Minrakar is content to make small talk with the others at the table until food arrives. Turns out, the formidable-looking minotaur was quite proficient at making small talk, making wise cracks at the appropriate moments, laughing at other's jokes, and listening with rapt attention when the others spoke. When their food finally comes, he attacks it with gusto, downing his entire meal in under five minutes. While he wasn't sloppy eater, he wasn't the kind of person that let a plate of perfectly warm food grow cold. It took a lot of fuel to keep him going, so might as well enjoy his food while it was still warm.

After eating, he bids farewell to the others after agreeing when and where to meet up in the morning. He fishes out four gold pieces from his coin pouch, places them on the table, and then makes his way to the door with stomach content. Just before he was about the leave, the innkeeper stops him and relays his message. "Thanks for the info! The food was great by the way." With that, he turns and exits and makes his way to the rooms the innkeeper said they could take.

He selects the room at the farthest end of the hall; that way, the others wouldn't need to walk as far. Once inside, he drops off his equipment in one corner of the room and then surveys his little abode with his hands resting on his hips. Like just about everything else, all the accommodations were all designed for normal sized folks. Oh well, he had gotten used to everything being smaller than he would have preferred. Knowing that the simple bed would be too small for him, he just pulls off the blanket and wads it up into a bundle to rest his head on while he sleeps. Without further ado, he plops onto the ground and lays down on his back, one arm bent back under the wad of blanket he used as a pillow, the other resting partially across his chest as he stares up at the ceiling. 

As he waits for sleep to inevitably claim him, he can't help but think back to the mishap with his brother, the mishap that ended with Minrakar being transformed into the muscle-bound brute he was now. How different his life could have been! He could have graduated from his apprenticeship from Ezazrus the mage, completed a mission for the Iron Templars, and have been fully accepted into the knightly order by now if only he hadn't been so willing to help out his brother, Rakin, with his little project. Oh well, no point in dwelling on things that have already happened.

He rolls over onto his side, or at least he tried to. One of his horns thumped into the wooden floor when he tried, reminding him that he hadn't been able to sleep on his side for nearly four years now. Sighing, he goes back to laying flat on his back and does his best to fall asleep despite the sense of melancholy that always accompanied him when he thought back on when he was transformed into his new form. Eventually, sleep finally takes him...

Thanking the innkeeper for his information, Merrick adds to the others,

"We should go and talk to this Harbin Wester fellow.  Did you notice his name was on the notice for the job?"

The halfling starts to gather his gear together and glances towards the door leading to the room.  "Speak to him before we head off in the morning.  It would be good to get a little more context on this, y'know."  He hefts his pack onto his back.  "The townsfolk are obviously scared of something, if they think she shouldn't be out there alone.  Innkeeper said dragons...well, if this Harbin Wester says something similar, there's got to be some substance to it, right?"

"I'll bid you all goodnight, and see you in the morning."  With a wave, and grabbing the last of the bread on the table, he heads to his room.  Settling in for a fine rest, after his long journey from Neverwinter.

Minrakar rises early in the morning just when the sun starts to peak over the mountainous horizon. Stifling a yawn, he stretches and rolls his shoulders in an attempt to work the knots out of his back. Sleeping on the ground always left him feeling a little sore, but it wouldn't be too bad once he started moving around a bit. 

Standing, he tosses the blanket back on the bed and moves over to get his pack he left in the corner. As he does, he catches a whiff of himself, and his snout crinkles in disgust. Yuck! Smells like a barnyard in here. Hopefully there would be a river along the way to the windmill so he could wash some of the musk off.  

Once he’s gathered his things, he makes his way outside and trots over to the job board to wait for the others. While he eagerly waits for their journey to start, he gives friendly waves and smiles to the townsfolk that were out and about in the mornings’ wane light, partially to pass the time and partially to assure them that he wasn’t going to harm any of them. 

As he waits, he also thinks back on the conversation he had with the others the night before. He was eager to get to know them more, and he was also excited to see how they fended for themselves. He was excited to see some more of Merrick’s magical abiltiies. Maybe Minrakar would even recognize some of the spells the halfling used, though he doubted it; ever since his transformation, his memories of magic and arcane knowledge he learned wasn’t nearly as good as it used to be. It felt like his brain was in a constant fog anytime he tried to think about magic. The Roven guy had some combat experience, and he wasn’t too sure about the Colember person. Regardless, he felt like they would make a decent group.

Roven agrees on splitting the bill evenly, ensuring a fair share of the expenses among the group. "Let's divide the costs equally; it's the fairest way for all of us," he suggests, pulling out his share.He appreciates the innkeeper's detailed directions to Umbrage Hill. "Thanks for the tip," Roven gratefully acknowledges, "Staying on course is essential."Addressing Merrick's idea to consult Harbin Wester for more background, Roven finds the plan sound. "Consulting Harbin is smart. Knowing more about the dragon threat is crucial," he notes.Regarding the evening's rest, Roven reinforces the need for preparation. "Rest well. Our journey tomorrow is significant, not just for Adabra's safety but for understanding Phandalin's plight," he states, signaling the importance of the mission."A restful night is key. We'll need to be alert and ready," he adds, wishing his companions well. "Until morning. Let's be prepared for what comes," he says, heading to his room, his thoughts on the day ahead.