The rest will find Lebenha trying to give a hand in the infirmary, basically nursing the wounded and do what she is told to do, bring clear water, clean shits for the beds... whatever. Now that she hasn’t the bracers, she openly uses magic ( basically prestidigitation) to help her and the others, cleaning the beds is easy staff, she colds some wet clothes to put into the broken limbs, or heat others to make others feel comfortable. 

Lebenha's intentions, although noble, are not wanted by most of the injured remaining on bed rest. Bhalla reassures them that Leb is there to give them aid but most Sunites are wary of her because she's an elf as well as a Caster.

"Use your magic sparingly my dear. You can not wipe away 50 years of mistrust as easily as I've removed those manacles," Bhalla explains her tone and expression soft yet full of concern. "Maybe there's another task better suited for your talents," she says then advises Leb to find Hrain for a task guarding the garrison.

Thomas awakes rather earlier than one might expect for one who had been so exhausted. He lies awake on the bunk for a few minutes before leaving the room to find a more private place for his morning prayers, checking first to see if the reading room is occupied. If it isn't, he will kneel next to the window for nearly 20 minutes before returning to his feet. He then turns to pick up the book he had placed on the nearest table the night before, examining it with freshly rested eyes.

Thomas finds the library empty but the book, however, is no longer there reshelved by someone the night before or taken up by someone. He is able to pray in silence undisturbed.

OOC: Does he move to lower levels where there is activity? I would assume he gets up early but the kitchen is busy as well as the watch moving about the garrison on patrol.

Unable to find the book, Thomas curses quietly to himself before heading back to his room to don his chainmail and vestments. He then proceeds to check in with Hrain.

"Captain? Anything happen during the night I should be aware of, Sir? Any assignments?"

     Folzi wakes to the smell of the fried meats in the morning and wastes no time in getting to the kitchen. "Must be a special occasion if your cooking up this good stuff... that, or have y'all been holding out on us, hmm?" He says to the cook with a mouthful already as he proceeds through the meal line, while waving a sausage in one hand and balancing his plate on his mug of ale.

(edited for formatting and spelling)

"We cook what we want," a female cook snaps at the gnome, "you're lucky to be getting food from my kitchens at all," she adds in a growl as the younger cook look sheepishly as Folzi with a shrug of her shoulders replacing the empty tray of fried meats with another full tray.

"We raided the visitor's stores she means to say," the younger cook says to Folzi when the older woman leaves earshot. "It'll be gone soon," she then adds quickly. "We won't break into the rations for a few days yet but I think this breakfast will be the finest any of us have had in years," she adds next swiping a sausage for herself and wrapping it up in a napkin before putting it into her apron with a wink at Folzi. "She lost a brother to a warlock not long ago. Bad business all of this but unless you want to starve I wouldn't tease her," the young woman gives a warning before going back into the kitchen.

The mess hall is oddly silent with most Sunites eating together in a clump but none of them are talking. The morning seems tense. A couple paladins and a cleric shoot Folzi hard glances while others, a young monk and a paladin, just look curiously at him. 

Dawn brings the young captain awake, the light from the small window illuminating his quarters, as always Hrain looks first to his shield, positioned on the arming frame with his plate an deliberately angled so the first rays of the sun strike the golden emblem of Sune on the shield. Taking a few moments to draw himself together the paladin rises and moves to the window, looking out over the camp, hands palm down on the windowsill he surveys the area looking for any indication of the enemy placement and strength.

After a few minutes he turns back to the room, looking in the mirror at himself, seeing the hardened muscles of a trained fighter and overlaid on his chest the large tattoo of the emblem of Sune. Servants have brought water for washing and he does so, then brushing his long hair before tying it so his helm can be easily worn.  Looking through his belongings he selects a slim golden torc that he wears around his neck mindful that any of his other jewelry might hinder the wearing of his armour.  Putting on his clothing that he wears below his armour he initially plans to go down to eat but changes his mind and instead spends ten minutes donning his plate, the pieces gleaming after careful cleaning, noting as he does the signs of damage from the violence of yesterday that mar the beauty of the armour.

Fully armoured he kneels before the shield and prays, calling for the blessing of Sune for wisdom and the spells he may need throughout the day.

Collecting his weapons he leaves the chambers, heading down to eat in the kitchen.  As he leaves he sees Thomas waiting to see him and asks the cleric to follow him to the kitchens, explaining that after they eat he hopes to discuss the situation with Thomas and the senior members of the garrison.

As he enters the kitchen he sees the distribution of those eating and moves through the room greeting everyone before helping himself to a large breakfast which he graciously thanks the cooks for.  He then moves towards Folzi greeting the gnome loudly enough for all to hear. "Well met Folzi, I trust you slept well and I hope you are enjoying breakfast, I doubt there is enough for us to get used to it sadly, the visitor's stores are never that well stocked.  But for now, enjoy - that goes for all of you, tuck in."  Turning back to the gnome he adds "May I join you?"

"Thanks for the heads up," Folzi says to the young cook. He refills his plate with a few more pieces of meat from the full tray she just placed and goes to find a seat in a quiet corner - if possible. Any strange glances from the Shepherds are met with a look from the gnome to indicate that he cares not for their displeasure of his presence and if they take exception then they are more than welcome to try to do something about it.

"Oh, much better than I've I had in years," the gnome gives a muffled reply to the captain as he brings his mug of ale to his mouth for a healthy drink. He waves a hand at an empty seat across from him. "Suit yourself."

Thomas observes the room as he follows Hrain in, paying close attention to the Sunites. Upon retrieving his own meal, Thomas makes to join the quiet cluster instead of joining the captain and the gnome.

"You all have room for one more?"

If Lyra was to name one good thing about her time in the camp, then it would be the chance to finally sleep as long as she wanted to. Once again embracing the possibility, she stood in bed longer than her two caster acquaintances. To Lyra, sleeping late was a privilege she did not intend to miss out on. When she finally woke up, she took a second to listen to the noises sounding through the garrison. There was a little rumblinb here and there, caused by the shepherds daily routines downstairs, but overall it seemed to be rather quiet. Lyra decided this ment that there was no immediate trouble people might need her assistance with and remained in bed for a little while longer to, enjoying the warmth of her sheets before she had to leave and exchange the cozyness of her blankets for the justified but nevertheless depressing, gloomy faces of the shepherds. With an absent gesture, she palpated her now unchained wrists. Touching the skin like that felt strange, she had not expected to feel such relieve about something so inconsiderable.

Once she finally got up, Lyra took a second to stretch, driving out the fatigue of her limbs, before she put on one of the fresh robes the shepherds had depositted in the guest room the day before. With an impressive yawn, she took a few steps over to the window to look outside and maybee get a glimpse on the dragon or the ground forces supporting it. A little disturbed by the enemies obvious absence, she grabbed her newfound belongings and went downstairs to join the other folks for breakfast. After waiting in line to receive a quite astonishing meal, she browsed around for a table to sit at and found the captain talking to the gnome counselor. Without further ado, Lyra decides to join and sits down next to Folzi, not waiting for an invitation to do so.

Haldur woke with a start, jolting in his bed as some last vestige of his tumultuous dreams finally drove him to wakefulness. The young mercenary sat upright in his bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, glanced toward the windows to glean a rough gauge of the hour, then swung himself out of bed and made for the wash basin. He splashed water on his face and dried off, but for the most part he looked like he felt; tousled and bedraggled. For the second time, not a fantastic representation for a hireling of the Goddess of Beauty's faithful, but the sellsword was mentally preparing himself for the more pressing matters the day might hold. His one acquiescence to his appearance however was to take the small cloth he'd used to dry his face and sit down with his armor and begin to carefully and methodically wipe the surfaces and joints as clean as he could reasonably get them. This was more for practicality than aesthetic. The elements in the blood and mud and soot could begin to eat away at the metal and hide that comprised the armor, and a warrior that wanted to live wouldn't neglect his gear. Haldur's calloused hands manipulated the armor pieces with practiced ease and familiarity, and it did not take the young mercenary long to finish his task. He then began donning the armor, taking his time to double check that all belts, straps and buckles were firmly in place yet as unrestrictive as possible, and finally he grabbed his halberd from where it rested against the wall and began to make his way toward the kitchen area.

The kitchen seemed quite busy, so Haldur waited patiently for those cooking and serving to help those who had come before him. The young sellsword finally accepted a plate with sausage and thick, delicious looking oatmeal and he thanked the staff graciously for the unexpected but welcome treat. Opting for a tall glass of water instead of ale, the warrior entered the dining area and looked around at the rather tense atmosphere. He was likewise aware of the realities of the coming day gnawing at the back of his mind, but he steadfastly ignored them for the time being. Spotting his fellows from the previous day, the mercenary negotiated his way toward the table that they had begun to congregate at and he nodded to each of them in a small greeting as he approached.

"Good morning." Haldur began, and in a slightly subdued, almost hesitant tone of voice asked, "May I join you at your table?"

“I guess we can add one more chair to that table if you don’t mind “ says Lebenha coming from outside finishing cleaning her hands. Some of you can see some blood drops on her tunic and the piece of cloth she is using to dry her hands has a reddish color too. 

"Of course not" Hrain announces at the requests to join them then stops and looks at Folzi "I apologise, this is your table and I am a guest here too, although I hope you weren't planning on turning them away" he adds with a smile. 

OOC: Fran why is there blood on Leb's tunic?

As the party reassembles they all realize the events that brought together hits them fully. None of you are spending the morning like you had just one morning ago...

Carrigan appears getting a bowl of porridge and sits with the party.

"They don't much like us wandering about the place eh Captain," Carrigan says smirking. "My potions returned their limb," she exclaims. "What do I have to do to get some respect," she grumbles with a sigh tucking into her porridge.

The Sunites look up at the young cleric of Mystra. They know his rank but not his name. Some of them look to a half-orc with a scar across his otherwise handsome face. His tusks are capped with gold and his hair, a mass of black dreads, are tied back with gold woven ribbons.

"Table's full," the half-orc says gruffly making a stern expression as no one else seems to broker protest his Sunite companions do not make eye contact, they remain face down eating their food.

"Looks like there's plenty of room over there....with the other traitors," an older dwarf says in his golden cleric vestments having come up to his fellows and overheard Thomas' request.

The dwarf has an elaborately braided beard with various adornments woven throughout the well-kept brownish mass of hair but a large bald head. He is glaring up at Thomas as if to challenge him regardless of his rank as the other Sunites chuckle and the half-orc reaches under the table but Thomas doesn't know for what.

Thomas looks momentarily over his shoulder, before turning back to the Sunites and giving a slight shrug. He then sets his tray on the table and takes a seat. He takes a quick sip of water and then looks back to the half-orc. He speaks quietly.

"It would be most unwise to stir up trouble under our current circumstances, now wouldn't it?" 

Thomas then turns to the dwarf, motioning with his head in the direction of the other group.

"I'd rather eat with dogs than eat with traitors."

The dwarf slams his plate down on the table and the half-orc pulls the longsword from beneath the table as his rises to his feet now towering over the seated Thomas.

"I said we don't eat with traitors," the dwarf shouts loudly his expression snarled with anger as the half-orc holds his sword at his side but look ready for action as the dwarf puts a ruddy hand atop his warhammer that hangs from his belt.

"You think a bookworm from Mystra would understand simple common," the half-orc says sneering at Tomas his tusks winking in the lamplight of the mess hall getting a laugh from some his companions who all look up now but one human paladin. A thin reed of a young man stands from the table and rushes out of the room!

"Oh no," Carrigan says as the voices raise and a grin forms on her face as she looks over at Thomas and the other Sunite as all eyes on them. "Captain I think you're about to have a lot of trouble," she adds looking to Hrian before shooting Folzi a smirk.

Thomas slowly rises from his chair. Every muscle in his body tenses as he prepares to block and/or avoid any imminent attacks.

"Is this really what you want to do?"

Action: Ready to Dodge if a soldier moves to attack.

     Folzi looks over his shoulder at Carrigan's comment. "Hmm, what's that?" A smirk appears when he sees that Thomas has squared off with the much taller half orc. "Well, this could be entertaining," he hops up to take a seat on the table to get a better view.

     The gnome continues to stuff food into his mouth and swill down his ale, emptying the mug. Looking from the empty mug, to the brewing fight and then to the meal line where the ale, he decides he doesn't want to miss any of the action. Wth a few words in gnomish and a wiggle of his fingers, he sends his [spellpmage hand[/spell] to retrieve another beverage.