"Expect retaliation tomorrow," Zina whispered to Pettilaen in gnommish, the words dangerously clear. While not sober, it was was clear that the gnome was still in full control of her faculties. "Tonight is a night of mourning, and I am far too tired to cook up a response with the proper amount of creativity." 

Zina promptly rejoined the festivities, a smile on her face. She lent her dulcet soprano tones to the songs, and cast minor illusion to summon some dancing lights that swirled around them. "Another one, Kanon," the gnome had made the somewhat ill-advised decision to try and keep up with Orst for the rest of the night, and was trying her hardest to tackle this monumental challenge.

The morning comes too soon with a shrill blast from a military horn signalling the column of soldiers to awaken. Orst rises with a groan, shielding his eyes from the rising sun's rays and stumbling off to heed nature's call.

"Uggggghhhh," he exclaims loudly. "Boys, ye shouldn't have let me drink so much. I say, boys, where are my Rorn and R..."

The names catch in his throat and he falls silent.

Roe prepares the wagon for departure while Orst stands alone, staring into the distance.

Portia is up at dawn thankfully having managed to pull off downing one fast drink when doing the rhyming salute to Rorn. She is already dressed and packed to move on. Even her vigil to Lathander had completed just as the horn from the military camp sounded.

She sighs heavily as Orst waking up suddenly remembers the day before. She walks over to Orst and claps her hand on his shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze. She doesn't say anything. She doesn't linger long because she turns to give Roe a hand with packing up remaining a silent helper and companion.

"I'm up!" Kanon says as he wakes quickly from the sound of the military horn. His eyes dart around looking for a threat before realization dawns on him. It's morning. "Curses," he shields his eyes from the sun and stumbles over to some nearby bushes to relieve himself.

Seeing Portia and Orst, Kanon approaches, "Anyone seen the gnomes?" He gives them both a smile before Portia heads off the help Roe. "It was a good night, Master Orst," Kanon says, "One that I will be sure to tell on my travels."

With that, he turns to search for the gnomes, "Petti, Zina? Where'd you get off to?"  

Pettilaen's not sure how the night ended, due to him passing out. He awoke the next morning, not in his encampment, but in the military encampment, within one of their tents amidst several other guards. They awoke long before him, but when he awoke, the guards were laughing. Pettilaen could hardly register what they were saying... something about a pole, daggers, and dice. Trying to shake off the hangover, he got up and quickly left the laughing group of guards, embarrassed. He noticed he was missing two gold pieces as well. Must've lost a drunk bet or something last night...

Stumbling into his home encampment, he ignored the others, searching for anything that would help relieve his hangover. He wasn't accustomed to hangovers, but figured lots of water would help flush it out of his body, and so began drinking as much water as he could find.

"Pettilaen!" Kanon approaches the gnome as he's guzzling water, "Have you seen Zina? You didn't do anything to her, did you?" Kanon went to sleep early as Orst passed out, so he wasn't up for the late-night after party. Zina was guzzling the mead as fast as Orst was, so he was concerned she might have passed out somewhere.

"I'm ignoring you, Kanon." He moans, grabbing his head. "And why does your voice have to be so high... it's even higher than mine..." He closed his eyes, heating up a pail of water, and placing it next to another pail of water. This was, by far, the worst hangover he's had, but he saw a guy doing it once in the Gate, and thought he might give it a go. He dunked his head in the cold water, letting it sit for several seconds before emerging, gasping for air, and dunking it into the warm water. He repeated this off and on for a good minute, before coming out one last time and shouting, "Whew! Now that, was pretty effective."

OOC: Think Princess Bride.

Last night had been a horrible idea.

This became abundantly clear when she came to consciousness completely naked with a splitting headache. She awoke clutching an empty bottle of wine inside one of the boxes. It was claustrophobic, but soft. The silken pillows and sheets were gathered around her in a comforting nest. Slowly, Zina lifted the top of the crate and poked her head into the blinding sunlight. The illusionist granged a corner of a silken sheet and clutched it against her chest to cover the important bits. "Wha' happened?" she slurred, trying to will the sun to be less bright. "And where are my clothes?"

Portia looks at Roe with a smirk as they work on packing up. In Dwarvish, "I wondered where she went, at least she was packed to be moved on regardless. Too bad she is sober enough to hide the important bits from ya. Gnomes are tiny though."

She waves to Zina and in Gnomish, "Good morning, sunshine." She can't stop a laugh. "Oh, I think all our stuff is properly accounted for. Now where did we put that as we started packing." She pretends to take some time finding Zina's pack. She finally sets it up by the crate the gnome had slept in. "Now if something is missing then I'm not sure what you did with it, but certain things are properly still there." Her implications may or not be discerned to mean a certain book by the befuddled gnome. "I think your snake is sunning himself higher on the load." She chuckles a bit more as she walks away.

She grabs a towel still out for final clean up of breakfast and drapes it over the wet head of Pettilaen. "Glad to see you made it back." This she says in common before returning to the packing.

"I actually got some oatmeal as an option for breakfast as long as Pettilaen doesn't dunk his head in all the pots."

He glares at Portia. "By Ilmater's grace, if I never drink another drip of alcohol again, I will be a content gnome." There is silence for a few seconds, until he suddenly bursts out laughing at the thought. "Who am I kidding? My family runs a farjiin brewery. There's no way they'd accept me if they heard that." An idea dawns on him. "Hey! You guys can come meet my family! They probably still like having quests... and guests!"

Kanon averts his eyes immediately upon seeing Zina, "By the gods, woman! We need to talk about the book when you're more... clothed."

"Everyone jus' needs to shhhhhh," Zina's head was killing her, and she couldn't fathom why everyone was being so loud. She rifled through the bag one-handed, eventually finding her tunic. The gnome grabbed the lid and boxed herself back into the crate, deciding to clothe herself a tad more discreetly.

It took perhaps longer than it should have, but eventually Zina emerged more or less clothes and ready to take on the day.

As Zina emerges from her new home, Kanon offers her some tea, "It should help, I think. Now... about the tome..."  

He gives her a rundown of his idea, cast the spell on the tome, in gnomish, so that  the cover reads, "Arcana Magica - The art of Detecting Evil" Subtext: "This book radiates an aura of evil to allow the adept magician a target to focus this spell on." 

Afterwards, he suggests to the gnome, "I think you should return it... after we've had a study, of course. But I don't feel it's safer with us than with Blackstaff Tower. I wouldn't mind escorting you, if you like."

"Stop shouting at me," Zina groaned, gladly taking the tea and sipping it. All things considered, she had only had 3 or 4 hangovers worse than this one. "Look, I, a novice illusionist, was able to walk out of Blackstaff with this book. Something tells me that their security isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"Maybe once we figure out what it is, you'll change your mind. It's only a suggestion, as I believe it should be under a bit more lock and key than it currently is." He smiles at the lil gnome, "Your tunic is inside-out."  He then stands to help finish preparations to leave.  

Eventually everyone manages to collect themselves, Roe re-packs and preps the wagon and the team, and you're all on the road north again. It's a dreary, foggy day, befitting most everyone's mental and physical state and the road drags by mile by mile like it will never end. Certainly the previous days of travel weren't this long and tedious, right?

Now within a day's ride of Baldur's Gate, the road is full of travelers. It's a constant buzz of hooves, carts creaking, and idle chatter, lulling most of your weary heads to frequent naps.

You're hearing rumors that Grand Duke Valarken and General Ikhal have been tried and sentenced to die and that this news has generated some fresh unrest in the city. The Flaming Fist is doing a relatively good job at keeping the streets safe, but some riots and incidents have occurred. Travelers headed south advise caution and an especially keen eye on goods and valuables as thieves' guilds have used the unrest to their advantage, going out in groups and pilfering as they please.

Orst waves and smiles at fellow traders, but each time the blank expression returns. He'd been silent all day until just after lunch.

"I've made some messes," he says, "and I've got some sticky business to attend to when we arrive at the Gate. If I could ask one more favor from you fine folk, could you stay with the team at my warehouse while I smooth things over? I'll make sure all the product gets distributed, you wouldn't have to worry about that..."

"Kanon, Kanon, Kanon," Zina shook her head, ignoring the fact that her tunic was inside out. She would fix it later, but she didn't want to give the bard with his smug smile the satisfaction of watching her fumble. "I'd just like to point out that I have not had the book stolen from me, while Blackstaff has. That means I'm winning."

"We'd be happy to help any way we can, Orst," the illusionist replied to the dwarf with the softest smile she could muster.

"I will do my best to help with whatever you need once in Baldur's Gate." She says this in common then switches to dwarvish for the following, "I'm not sure what your faith is, but as a Cleric of Lathander I would like to assist or at least be there if I can." She doesn't say Rorn's name, but looks back towards where he is on the wagon.

[Bullden's insert words for earlier post....

Orst, I havn't known you and yours very long but know ye made a life long friend this day.  May yer bounties be plenty and yer mugs always full.  And be knowin' that Rorn be in great hall in tha sky to be honored for defendin' kith and kin.  May his ever after be surrounded by busty women and endless brew.

...]

Kanon feels the need to speak up as well.  He hasn't been hired like the rest of them, but he feels obligated to help for the fine company, protection, and food. "If the rest of this fine group allows it, I'd be happy to help as well. I know I wasn't hired to guard your wares, but I feel the least I can do is assist you when you need it."