Khazela’s whiskers flick with impatience as the talk turns to travel and fares. “Three days, not two weeks—I like this,” she mutters, already picturing herself hunched on a ship’s rail, eyes fixed on the distant coastline. But she glances sidelong at the others, ears angling back in a silent admission. “No coin for ship,” she states bluntly, her accent flattening the words. “Not now. If fare covered, I say: go quick. Shadows wait, do not sleep.”
Her gaze sharpens on Kerowyn, the merchant’s poise not lost on her. She offers a rough nod, chin dipping. “Or… you give coin ahead—just for journey. Part of gold, yes? We spend on boat, bring your children back, you pay rest. Fair?” She shrugs, matter-of-fact, as if the haggling is as ordinary as sharpening a blade. “If you cannot, I walk. But faster is better. More chance to catch their scent, yes?” A faint, eager flick of her quills gives away the thrill at the idea of pursuit—of the trail, the hunt, and whatever answers wait below the earth.
"It's only a local legend, mainly in Oakhurst. With Neverwinter still rebuilding, they have many odd jobs and the like for adventurers. My plea there was mostly ignored, since many other villages are asking for help there as well. Jobs for reclamation or clearing out dens. While there was some interest here, the last folks said they'd rather try the Mere of Dead Men. It's closer to Waterdeep and...well, from what I saw from the ship, does seem to have half sunk castle."
"And yes, I'm actually here at Waterdeep for business. I'll be taking a ship back home and shall have those that would help me join me on that voyage. Would take care of fees going there, and I'd be more than willing to pay for departures when you all return."
"Oh, but I should mention. Recently, it seems that goblins have taken up residence there. Not violent ones, but goblins nonetheless. A few come to the town and sell a single apple. A bit strange, but from what I hear the apple is a wonder. Able to mend one's injuries and even cure diseases. If only they didn't charge 50 gold just for the apple."
Caldrin’s brows rise slightly as Kerowyn speaks, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“A ship fare covered both ways, and time spared on the road. You are a most generous client, Madam Hucrele,” he says with a courteous nod, then pauses—thoughts clearly turning behind his lenses.
“The Sunless Citadel, abandoned but not empty... and now claimed by goblins who peddle enchanted apples. Curious.”
He leans lightly on his staff and glances toward the others, his voice lowering just a touch.
“Strange fruit at a high price, guarded by goblins who aren’t immediately hostile? That alone would tempt a dozen scholars and opportunists. Add to that the ruins of a cult fortress... and I suspect the story of your children’s interest barely scratches the surface of what waits there.”
A beat of silence follows as his mind pieces things together, and then he nods again—more to himself this time.
“We’ll go with you, of course. There’s more than coin here. There’s knowledge buried in that place, and I would see what it has to show us.”
He straightens up and adjusts the strap of his pack once more, eyes returning to Kerowyn with a calm intensity.
“Let us know when you plan to sail. I’ll be ready.”
"Sounds like it's settled then, we will prepared and should set sail for the ruins. Where shall we find you when we return?" Damay starts to ponder what he could imagine they could run into for obstacles and what sort of supplies would be required to overcome them.
Khazela’s quills settle as the deal is struck, a sharp nod punctuating her readiness. “Settled, then,” she says echoing Damay, voice clipped but satisfied. She steps in beside the others, gaze flitting from Kerowyn to the tavern door, already eager to trade the thick tavern air for salt and sea.
“Ready now. I carry what I need.” She pats her belt, where blades and tools are already in easy reach, then looks to Kerowyn. “When does your ship sail? Sooner is better.” She gestures, small hands quick and decisive. “You call, I follow.” There’s the briefest hint of a smile—pride or anticipation, it’s hard to tell—as she adds, “Spirits restless, gold waiting. No more delays.”
"The ship will head out in a day, They're loading up the goods right now. I have to say my farewells to my fellow merchants along with letting the crew prepare for the voyage. Shall I meet you all there to take you all to the ship?"
(Will need a moment, the final player will be joining us soon.)
Caldrin nods thoughtfully, tapping his fingers lightly on the shaft of his staff.
“A day, then. That gives us just enough time to gather last-minute supplies—and to consider what we might be sailing into.”
He offers Kerowyn a small, respectful smile. “Yes, meeting at the docks sounds sensible. Just tell us where and when, and we’ll be there with packs in hand.”
Then he turns toward the others, adjusting his spectacles and giving a subtle, knowing glance to Dantos, Khazela, and the others.
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve never been aboard a merchant vessel heading for goblin-occupied ruins while chasing a myth about healing apples and dead dragons. New experience for anyone?”
He pauses, then adds with a faint grin, “Also—someone remind me to pick up a flask of ink before we leave. I have a feeling I’ll need to document this nonsense.”
His tone is dry, but not dismissive—he’s clearly intrigued. After a moment, he gestures toward the others with his free hand.
“Tell me—what’s everyone hoping to find down there? Gold? Glory? Apples that don’t cost a fortune? Or just a good story to bring back?”
He lets the questions hang in the air, inviting answers—half out of curiosity, half to get a measure of the people he’ll be trusting with his life in the coming days.
Movement at a table near them draws attention to the gnome approaching. Bowing to the group - he speaks to the lady. " I have accidentally overheard your conversation, and would also pledge my services to helping find your offspring.. I am just in the middle of finishing breakfast, however can join you all on the boat prior to its leaving. "
Looks to the party : " I am Mygra, and am willing to offer my services to help this woman in need. I'll be ready to leave with the morning's tide."
Caldrin shifts slightly as the newcomer addresses the group, the rhythmic tapping of his quarterstaff against the floor pausing mid-beat. He studies the gnome with a quiet curiosity, then offers a small, respectful nod.
“Well met, Mygra,” he says, voice smooth and thoughtful. “Timely ears are as useful as keen ones in this city. And if breakfast fuels better decisions than drink, then we’re already off to a strong start.”
He gestures with an open palm toward an empty space near the others. “Pull up a seat. No contracts yet, just intentions and dangerous stories. But if you're pledging to the lady's cause, I suspect we’ll be traveling together soon enough.”
Then, with a slight smirk that doesn't quite reach his eyes, Caldrin adds, “Just be warned—some of us are here for treasure, some for glory, and a few of us…” he glances to Dantos briefly, “are just here to see if the goblins really do sell miracle fruit. So long as you don’t object to illusions and eccentric conversation, I think we’ll get along fine.”
He lifts his staff in a subtle gesture of welcome and turns slightly toward the rest of the group. “Seems our company is growing. That bodes well—for the dangers ahead will likely require every clever mind we can muster.”
"Then I shall meet you all the day after then, I shall come to the docks around the morning. Thank you all for coming to help find my children." She stands up and gives a polite bow. "I'm lodging at the Blackstar inn if you wish to ask more questions, otherwise, I'll be at the Market in the castle ward. If you do happen to meet me there, I'll try to convince my colleagues to give you all a discount for the trip."
Caldrin offers a polite nod in return, rising slightly from where he leans on his staff.
“Thank you, Madam Hucrele. No further questions from me. We’ll be at the docks when the tide turns.”
He dips his head in a subtle bow, one scholar to another.
“If we do cross paths in the Castle Ward, I’ll keep my haggling voice sharp—but I suspect your word carries weight enough.”
With that, he steps back slightly, letting the moment settle as he turns toward the rest of the party.
“Well, then. We’ve a day to prepare. Shall we see what Waterdeep has to offer before the sea claims us for a few days?” He raises a brow toward the group, staff tapping gently on the floor again in a familiar rhythm. “Books, blades, or backup rations—whatever your habits require, now’s the time.”
He says it without pressure—simply acknowledging that the next step was theirs to take, together.
"Gold and glory may be enough for some, but I am here to learn and discover. My colleagues and I are researching the great Halaster and what he has created here. To see what he saw, perhaps discover his motives and process to the portals creation." Damay git a glossed over look in his eyes, clearly focusing on somepictire I his mind and not infront of him. "Perhaps a bit of research is what I'd needed now as well to learn what we can of our sinking castle." Damay will ask around about any stories or legends surrounding their new destination (investigation 15, accidently hit Intimidation on sheet)
Khazela’s quills rasp quietly as she rises from her stool. “Gold lightens pack, not mine,” she mutters, half-shrugging at the talk of shopping. “Blades are sharp, spirit focus steady—enough.” She taps the battered leather tube of her cartographer’s kit, then slips it beneath her cloak before anyone can inspect the cracks in its brass fittings. Pride keeps the gesture small, but her chin lifts in firm resolve.
“To-morrow dawn,” she says, nodding once to Madam Hucrele, then to the others in turn. “I wait on dock—ready to sail, ready to track, ready to guide.”
A final flick of quills—agreement, farewell, and promise all at once—and the little gloom-stalker melts back toward the tavern shadows, already plotting the night’s quiet watch of Waterdeep’s rooftops until the tide calls her east.
(Yes for most items. For the discount, will need the player to roll a straight d20 to determine the possible discount. 1-9 will be fail, 10 and above will be replied with what happens.)
The Market, despite it's simple name, is the largest open space in the city surrounded by stone buildings that enclose the maze of temporary stalls and carts that appear here day and night. With many merchant guild halls and their warehouses surrounding the space. Other business open near there as well due to the high foot traffic around the space.
Unfortunately, most of the patrons at the Yawning portal does not know anything about the citadel. Most of what they hear around those parts is how Neverwinter is recruiting workers and tradespeople to restore their city. Some counter the query,
'Why bother with the travel? We already got this hole in the ground, why go to another one?'
"Um dear, it's not tomorrow but the day after. I still have to finish my business here at Waterdeep. But I will be sure to be there the morning of departure." Hucrele corrects before taking a slight curtsey and leaving the Yawning Portal.
(Feel free to post what you want to buy. I shall reply with the d20 roll and give the proposed price for them.)
Khazela tips her head in a brief, sharp nod. “Day after, morning tide—understood.” With a flick of her quills she pushes away from the table, dark eyes already scanning the tavern’s exits. “I will meet you at the docks.” She offers nothing more—no hint of how she’ll pass the hours—then melts into the taproom’s shifting lantern-shadows, as silent and self-contained as ever.
Caldrin watches each of his companions disperse with quiet interest—some off for ammunition, others for tales or rooftops. He remains seated for a moment longer, one hand thoughtfully tapping the spine of a small, leather-bound journal he’s produced from his pack.
“Well then,” he murmurs to no one in particular, “I suppose not all preparation requires coin.”
He offers a slight nod to the now-vacant seat Kerowyn left behind, then rises and adjusts the straps of his bag.
“I’ll take the time to study,” he says aloud, mostly for the benefit of those still nearby. “The Citadel may hold more than just weathered stone and goblin merchants. If there are traces of old magic still clinging to its bones, I’d rather meet them prepared.”
His gaze drifts briefly toward Damay, a faint glint of amusement beneath his usual calm.
“Should I uncover anything compelling in the old texts or mage circles about sunken forts or draconic cults, I’ll be sure to share. Halaster’s legacy has a way of showing up in the most unexpected places.”
With that, Caldrin gives a parting nod to those who remain, then turns and walks toward the inn’s quieter corners—where the light is steady, the noise subdued, and his ink can dry without interruption.
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Khazela’s whiskers flick with impatience as the talk turns to travel and fares. “Three days, not two weeks—I like this,” she mutters, already picturing herself hunched on a ship’s rail, eyes fixed on the distant coastline. But she glances sidelong at the others, ears angling back in a silent admission. “No coin for ship,” she states bluntly, her accent flattening the words. “Not now. If fare covered, I say: go quick. Shadows wait, do not sleep.”
Her gaze sharpens on Kerowyn, the merchant’s poise not lost on her. She offers a rough nod, chin dipping. “Or… you give coin ahead—just for journey. Part of gold, yes? We spend on boat, bring your children back, you pay rest. Fair?” She shrugs, matter-of-fact, as if the haggling is as ordinary as sharpening a blade. “If you cannot, I walk. But faster is better. More chance to catch their scent, yes?” A faint, eager flick of her quills gives away the thrill at the idea of pursuit—of the trail, the hunt, and whatever answers wait below the earth.
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || b'Reh - Stig Cleric - Humblewood || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Zephirah - Demonic Bard - Sands || Merry - Gifted Surgeon - Short || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus || Lan - Dwarf Dragon - Wuxian ||
"Ah good, let's be getting on that ship."
Dantos bows and says, "We return as soon as we can with your children or with word of them."
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
"It's only a local legend, mainly in Oakhurst. With Neverwinter still rebuilding, they have many odd jobs and the like for adventurers. My plea there was mostly ignored, since many other villages are asking for help there as well. Jobs for reclamation or clearing out dens. While there was some interest here, the last folks said they'd rather try the Mere of Dead Men. It's closer to Waterdeep and...well, from what I saw from the ship, does seem to have half sunk castle."
"And yes, I'm actually here at Waterdeep for business. I'll be taking a ship back home and shall have those that would help me join me on that voyage. Would take care of fees going there, and I'd be more than willing to pay for departures when you all return."
"Oh, but I should mention. Recently, it seems that goblins have taken up residence there. Not violent ones, but goblins nonetheless. A few come to the town and sell a single apple. A bit strange, but from what I hear the apple is a wonder. Able to mend one's injuries and even cure diseases. If only they didn't charge 50 gold just for the apple."
Caldrin Vex - Goblin Apple Response
Caldrin’s brows rise slightly as Kerowyn speaks, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“A ship fare covered both ways, and time spared on the road. You are a most generous client, Madam Hucrele,” he says with a courteous nod, then pauses—thoughts clearly turning behind his lenses.
“The Sunless Citadel, abandoned but not empty... and now claimed by goblins who peddle enchanted apples. Curious.”
He leans lightly on his staff and glances toward the others, his voice lowering just a touch.
“Strange fruit at a high price, guarded by goblins who aren’t immediately hostile? That alone would tempt a dozen scholars and opportunists. Add to that the ruins of a cult fortress... and I suspect the story of your children’s interest barely scratches the surface of what waits there.”
A beat of silence follows as his mind pieces things together, and then he nods again—more to himself this time.
“We’ll go with you, of course. There’s more than coin here. There’s knowledge buried in that place, and I would see what it has to show us.”
He straightens up and adjusts the strap of his pack once more, eyes returning to Kerowyn with a calm intensity.
“Let us know when you plan to sail. I’ll be ready.”
"Sounds like it's settled then, we will prepared and should set sail for the ruins. Where shall we find you when we return?" Damay starts to ponder what he could imagine they could run into for obstacles and what sort of supplies would be required to overcome them.
Khazela’s quills settle as the deal is struck, a sharp nod punctuating her readiness. “Settled, then,” she says echoing Damay, voice clipped but satisfied. She steps in beside the others, gaze flitting from Kerowyn to the tavern door, already eager to trade the thick tavern air for salt and sea.
“Ready now. I carry what I need.” She pats her belt, where blades and tools are already in easy reach, then looks to Kerowyn. “When does your ship sail? Sooner is better.” She gestures, small hands quick and decisive. “You call, I follow.” There’s the briefest hint of a smile—pride or anticipation, it’s hard to tell—as she adds, “Spirits restless, gold waiting. No more delays.”
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || b'Reh - Stig Cleric - Humblewood || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Zephirah - Demonic Bard - Sands || Merry - Gifted Surgeon - Short || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus || Lan - Dwarf Dragon - Wuxian ||
"The ship will head out in a day, They're loading up the goods right now. I have to say my farewells to my fellow merchants along with letting the crew prepare for the voyage. Shall I meet you all there to take you all to the ship?"
(Will need a moment, the final player will be joining us soon.)
Caldrin nods thoughtfully, tapping his fingers lightly on the shaft of his staff.
“A day, then. That gives us just enough time to gather last-minute supplies—and to consider what we might be sailing into.”
He offers Kerowyn a small, respectful smile. “Yes, meeting at the docks sounds sensible. Just tell us where and when, and we’ll be there with packs in hand.”
Then he turns toward the others, adjusting his spectacles and giving a subtle, knowing glance to Dantos, Khazela, and the others.
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve never been aboard a merchant vessel heading for goblin-occupied ruins while chasing a myth about healing apples and dead dragons. New experience for anyone?”
He pauses, then adds with a faint grin, “Also—someone remind me to pick up a flask of ink before we leave. I have a feeling I’ll need to document this nonsense.”
His tone is dry, but not dismissive—he’s clearly intrigued. After a moment, he gestures toward the others with his free hand.
“Tell me—what’s everyone hoping to find down there? Gold? Glory? Apples that don’t cost a fortune? Or just a good story to bring back?”
He lets the questions hang in the air, inviting answers—half out of curiosity, half to get a measure of the people he’ll be trusting with his life in the coming days.
"Mmmm. Right, that is, goblins yes, everything else, not so much."
Everything else sounds interesting and fun for the moment.
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
Movement at a table near them draws attention to the gnome approaching. Bowing to the group - he speaks to the lady. " I have accidentally overheard your conversation, and would also pledge my services to helping find your offspring.. I am just in the middle of finishing breakfast, however can join you all on the boat prior to its leaving. "
Looks to the party : " I am Mygra, and am willing to offer my services to help this woman in need. I'll be ready to leave with the morning's tide."
Caldrin shifts slightly as the newcomer addresses the group, the rhythmic tapping of his quarterstaff against the floor pausing mid-beat. He studies the gnome with a quiet curiosity, then offers a small, respectful nod.
“Well met, Mygra,” he says, voice smooth and thoughtful. “Timely ears are as useful as keen ones in this city. And if breakfast fuels better decisions than drink, then we’re already off to a strong start.”
He gestures with an open palm toward an empty space near the others. “Pull up a seat. No contracts yet, just intentions and dangerous stories. But if you're pledging to the lady's cause, I suspect we’ll be traveling together soon enough.”
Then, with a slight smirk that doesn't quite reach his eyes, Caldrin adds, “Just be warned—some of us are here for treasure, some for glory, and a few of us…” he glances to Dantos briefly, “are just here to see if the goblins really do sell miracle fruit. So long as you don’t object to illusions and eccentric conversation, I think we’ll get along fine.”
He lifts his staff in a subtle gesture of welcome and turns slightly toward the rest of the group. “Seems our company is growing. That bodes well—for the dangers ahead will likely require every clever mind we can muster.”
"Then I shall meet you all the day after then, I shall come to the docks around the morning. Thank you all for coming to help find my children." She stands up and gives a polite bow. "I'm lodging at the Blackstar inn if you wish to ask more questions, otherwise, I'll be at the Market in the castle ward. If you do happen to meet me there, I'll try to convince my colleagues to give you all a discount for the trip."
Caldrin offers a polite nod in return, rising slightly from where he leans on his staff.
“Thank you, Madam Hucrele. No further questions from me. We’ll be at the docks when the tide turns.”
He dips his head in a subtle bow, one scholar to another.
“If we do cross paths in the Castle Ward, I’ll keep my haggling voice sharp—but I suspect your word carries weight enough.”
With that, he steps back slightly, letting the moment settle as he turns toward the rest of the party.
“Well, then. We’ve a day to prepare. Shall we see what Waterdeep has to offer before the sea claims us for a few days?” He raises a brow toward the group, staff tapping gently on the floor again in a familiar rhythm. “Books, blades, or backup rations—whatever your habits require, now’s the time.”
He says it without pressure—simply acknowledging that the next step was theirs to take, together.
"Mmmm maybe you right my fren. I buy extra bolts for crossbow yes? Might be needing to shoot more than 20 things."
Dantos will go in search of a place to buy extra ammunition.
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
"Gold and glory may be enough for some, but I am here to learn and discover. My colleagues and I are researching the great Halaster and what he has created here. To see what he saw, perhaps discover his motives and process to the portals creation." Damay git a glossed over look in his eyes, clearly focusing on somepictire I his mind and not infront of him. "Perhaps a bit of research is what I'd needed now as well to learn what we can of our sinking castle." Damay will ask around about any stories or legends surrounding their new destination (investigation 15, accidently hit Intimidation on sheet)
(OOC: are we buying at book prices for supplies?)
Khazela’s quills rasp quietly as she rises from her stool.
“Gold lightens pack, not mine,” she mutters, half-shrugging at the talk of shopping. “Blades are sharp, spirit focus steady—enough.” She taps the battered leather tube of her cartographer’s kit, then slips it beneath her cloak before anyone can inspect the cracks in its brass fittings. Pride keeps the gesture small, but her chin lifts in firm resolve.
“To-morrow dawn,” she says, nodding once to Madam Hucrele, then to the others in turn. “I wait on dock—ready to sail, ready to track, ready to guide.”
A final flick of quills—agreement, farewell, and promise all at once—and the little gloom-stalker melts back toward the tavern shadows, already plotting the night’s quiet watch of Waterdeep’s rooftops until the tide calls her east.
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || b'Reh - Stig Cleric - Humblewood || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Zephirah - Demonic Bard - Sands || Merry - Gifted Surgeon - Short || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus || Lan - Dwarf Dragon - Wuxian ||
(Yes for most items. For the discount, will need the player to roll a straight d20 to determine the possible discount. 1-9 will be fail, 10 and above will be replied with what happens.)
The Market, despite it's simple name, is the largest open space in the city surrounded by stone buildings that enclose the maze of temporary stalls and carts that appear here day and night. With many merchant guild halls and their warehouses surrounding the space. Other business open near there as well due to the high foot traffic around the space.
Unfortunately, most of the patrons at the Yawning portal does not know anything about the citadel. Most of what they hear around those parts is how Neverwinter is recruiting workers and tradespeople to restore their city. Some counter the query,
'Why bother with the travel? We already got this hole in the ground, why go to another one?'
"Um dear, it's not tomorrow but the day after. I still have to finish my business here at Waterdeep. But I will be sure to be there the morning of departure." Hucrele corrects before taking a slight curtsey and leaving the Yawning Portal.
(Feel free to post what you want to buy. I shall reply with the d20 roll and give the proposed price for them.)
Khazela tips her head in a brief, sharp nod. “Day after, morning tide—understood.” With a flick of her quills she pushes away from the table, dark eyes already scanning the tavern’s exits. “I will meet you at the docks.” She offers nothing more—no hint of how she’ll pass the hours—then melts into the taproom’s shifting lantern-shadows, as silent and self-contained as ever.
(She's not planning to buy anything.)
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || b'Reh - Stig Cleric - Humblewood || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Zephirah - Demonic Bard - Sands || Merry - Gifted Surgeon - Short || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus || Lan - Dwarf Dragon - Wuxian ||
Caldrin watches each of his companions disperse with quiet interest—some off for ammunition, others for tales or rooftops. He remains seated for a moment longer, one hand thoughtfully tapping the spine of a small, leather-bound journal he’s produced from his pack.
“Well then,” he murmurs to no one in particular, “I suppose not all preparation requires coin.”
He offers a slight nod to the now-vacant seat Kerowyn left behind, then rises and adjusts the straps of his bag.
“I’ll take the time to study,” he says aloud, mostly for the benefit of those still nearby. “The Citadel may hold more than just weathered stone and goblin merchants. If there are traces of old magic still clinging to its bones, I’d rather meet them prepared.”
His gaze drifts briefly toward Damay, a faint glint of amusement beneath his usual calm.
“Should I uncover anything compelling in the old texts or mage circles about sunken forts or draconic cults, I’ll be sure to share. Halaster’s legacy has a way of showing up in the most unexpected places.”
With that, Caldrin gives a parting nod to those who remain, then turns and walks toward the inn’s quieter corners—where the light is steady, the noise subdued, and his ink can dry without interruption.