Salty

The tinker cleaned up after the minor set back with his trinket blackened his face.  He returned shortly after, humbled just a little.  He ate a portion of the stew, enjoyed the company and the fire, then retired to a space near the gnome wagon.  He hoped that a small bit of heat remaining from the boiler would help keep the cold at bay as he slept.

He wakes in the early morning as Kaelthor makes his rounds announcing the coming of the dawn.  He quickly rolls over and scrambles to his belongings.  "No, not that tool!  This isn't what I'm looking for!' as he begins to dump rations from the pack.  After a shake of the bag, he finally reaches into the backpack.   A calm crosses his mind as his fingers find that which he searched for.  An unknowable warmth radiates up and into the small fellow almost as if the sun rise was occurring at the same time as his hand was pulled forth from his canvassed container (but only for the gnome).  

"By the gods..." the words in a whisper escape his mouth.  Several visions flash through his mind, some, events he recalls, others unknown to him.  "I shall call you...Wright, Reorx's Wright, and with you, I will make things right." his voice barely louder than before.  He puts the talisman away (but close) and repacks that which he has scattered.  A renewed feeling that perhaps Ispin (and others) are watching over him...and the group.

Cassian

Cassian stirs awake with a sharp intake of breath, the echo of dragonfire and clashing steel still ringing in his ears. For a heartbeat he thinks it no more than a soldier’s nightmare, but when instinct drives his hand to his pack, his breath stills. Nestled among his belongings lies the talisman: silver worked into the form of Draco Paladine, gleaming. He lifts it with reverent care and feels its warmth seep into his palm. 

The honor is humbling, but the weight of it presses heavy on his chest. This blessing is a call to arms, a promise of battles yet to come, and if the vision holds truth, those battles will be desperate indeed. He closes his hand around the talisman, bows his head briefly in silent prayer, then tucks it safely away. When he rises, he glances toward his companions.

“How did you sleep?” he asks with his usual earnest smile, not wanting to concern anyone.

Vardok

“Up, dawn comes.” 

Vardok hears it like a whisper, and bats at the sound, eyes still closed, mouth twisted in a grin, he was still deep asleep when roused by Kaelthor.  "You're always full of tricks!" he says in a slurred voice as he comes awake, smiling then laughing, then he stops.  He sits up with a start, eyes blinking, looking around.  "Ispin."  He says it with longing, a sad look takes over his face.

He notices Cassian, Salty and Kaelthor seem busy this morning, he is curious when he sees something tied to Kaelthor's staff.  He's an observant little kender.  His eyes widen when asked by Cassian about his sleep.  He sits up, stretching, getting limber.  "I... I dreamt of Ispin.  Such wonderful things he would bring us, tricks he would play, games and puzzles... I miss him.  I was dreaming about him, Cassian."  He stands, starts scratching at his sides and his nether regions, then puts on his shoes and walks over to the prior night's campfire site to see if anyone has relit it.  "What about you?  Dream anything strange?  I'm feeling hungry.  Peckish.  Dunno if anyone else is.  Maybe a nice pear or peach..."  Then he sits back down and starts to put back on his other gear.