Alijurn scratches his chin and shakes his head. "No. I don't want to be in the same room as these criminals for longer than I have too." A very fake half-smile and a nod towards the older of the two assassins. 

 "Very well," Dahme'dre says as she steps around the desk. "We'll keep in touch." She gives a confident smile as she starts to walk the pair toward the door. Her ledger snaps shut on the desk with a snap of her fingers as she enters the hall, "We may indeed need to hire your people for transportation," she continues, as they walk through the common room, "but we havent made our final decision on the logistics." She nods pleasantly to What.

Where claps their hands together, “Wonderful. See, wasn’t that much more pleasant? We look forward to your potential call. We’re always keeping an ear to the ground.” Where and Who exit the room, “Best of luck with the gnome’s contact, or should worst come to worst, I’m sure that the Eric gentleman you mentioned could be convinced to assist you.” 

Meanwhile, seeing her father and brother exit, What stands, smirks at Wick, and pats him on the shoulder, “I’ll be in touch, little man.”

 It's a wonder your family has survived, Dahme'dre thinks to Where, without capitalizing on your secrets... I look forward to studying you further. 

As the group fades off into the darkness, you hear but one reply in your head, “Secrets for secrets, d’Raine. Only fair.” With that, the exhaustion finally sets in as each of you returns to your room. A long rest finally awaits you. Who knows what awaits you all come morning.

Dahme'dre wakes early as if a long night hadn't proceeded. She takes considerable time to wash, brush and style her hair, and clean her face and teeth. When the others wake they'll find her back at the desk addressing envelopes to carry her mundane work from the night before to its intended recipients.

Wick is ASLEEP well into the morning until he's awakened. He was up all night tailing assassins, being invisible, and plotting with/entertaining friends and foes alike

Alijurn also wakes up early in the morning to do his morning routine. It involves pushups and psyching himself up with a small peptalk to himself. 

Ashe, meanwhile, has also slept in, getting her ever important beauty sleep. However, with all of you now fully recooperated, the four of you congregate in the dinning area. Mr. Bridgeway tends the bar while a couple of servers take some orders for what the inn may like for breakfast. Judging from the hustle, it’s probably around 10 in the morning. A perfect time to discuss the plans for the rest of this day.

This is important: where is Mari?

It looks like he hasn’t come in for some drink and chatter yet. However, when you ask around, look there he is! What a coincidence, people just walking in when asked about. The large rhino man walks into the inn.

It's time to secure passage, but our first lead on that front is distracted. Dahme'dre nods to Mari as he enters.

The rhino returns your nod with a wave, as he does with the others that greet him. He takes his usual seat at the bar and starts chatting with Bridgeway.

Wick walks out of his room, jaw cracking as he stifles a yawn. Hair rakishly disheveled, he's put on a new shirt and breeches and is ready to hit the docks. Seeing the innkeeper, he throws a friendly salute towards the genasi and says, "Top marks for breakfast, Bridgeway. I'll be gone for a spell, but I'm always looking for a warm fire and a well-fed audience."

He shoulders his pack and his lute. "Well, come on, then," he says, waving the others to the front door. "We can plan as we make our way to the ship."

The genasi returns the salute and twirls has mustache a bit, "Of course, my friend! Thank you for joining us. You can always look forward to warm food and hearth here at Bridgeway's." Mari suppresses a chuckle at the presentation, and Bridgeway glares at him, "Eat your toast, Giggles." 

 "Giggles?" Alice comments playfully, as she follows Wick out.

It’s clear that no one makes light of Bridgeway’s pageantry without a ruthless nickname mocking their laughter! The fiend.

In any case, the four of you make your way out onto the roads of I’lar once more. It once more strikes you, at least those that are originally from Elustra, how strange the dichotomy of advancement is here. Here you are, walking along stone roads as horse-drawn, or at least “horse-adjacent” creatures, carriages while heading to meet up with a captain of a planar ship. Magic is deeply entwined with the society of these lands, for better or worse. You wonder how different things must have been as pioneers made their lives here. Did they ever see the sunrise after they left? The blue sky? In any case, now is not a time to be lost in thought.

As you make your way through town, you see the same silent image displays that you were displayed upon before while they play above some shops and stations around you. Words trail beneath as a masked figure, flanked by two familiar figures seem to be addressing the public. You recognize these as members of the Nomad Corps, and two you have definitely met before. The dialogue reads as follows, “Good people of I’lar, thank you for your continued patience in our investigation into this terrible crime that has stained your good city. Without your help, these two brave souls may have very well perished from being imprisoned in their own ship by the assailants. But, like this city, their will was not so easily broken. Rest assured, though they have escaped through brutality and deceit, these criminals will be brought to justice. Order will be restored, the Nomad Corps. swears this to you.” He salutes, and the image changes to another mundane advertisement. However, it begins playing once more on another image, which also changes with time. It would seem that Goran and Eric have been found, along with their ship.

(Wick walks a liiiittle further ahead of the others, just in case)

Quote from Adaxter >>

(Wick walks a liiiittle further ahead of the others, just in case)

 Speaking of, Wick, can I get a perception check?

(that's a big 7. Whistling, hands in pockets, looking in shop windows)