"The jumpy guy with hood and a big nose? " asks the dragonborn as she puts the plates with the food in front of them " Yes I saw him earlier tonight. He didn't spoke to anyone else so I think you still have your jobs " she smiles and continue with her duties. 

Next morning catches Moltaris sleep in the floor, the blanket only covering her legs as she had moved during her sleep. Mathilda sees that she had much better colour that past night, but maybe she could use more sleep. As the rogue was asking to herself how to move her new friend to the bed, the cleric blinks and open her eyes. Still a little bit sleepy Molly acknowledges that she is starving. 

Both women get ready and go downstairs only to find the elves and the half-orc finishing their breakfast. 

One of the human aidees of the owner ask them if they want something to eat. 

No sing of Seb as for yet.

As the group sits contemplating their actions for the day, the doors to the inn burst open. An elven woman stands in the doorway, wrapped in a cloak splattered with mud as one who has been riding all night. Boots similarly dripping she kicks them together as she stumbles through the door. Her tangled mess of blonde hair obscures half of her face and a hole in the cloak shows the blue and black of frostbite on the skin beneath. The half of her face that is visible is not unattractive, but it is more commanding than pretty. Several puncture wounds are visible and semi-healed on her neck and her frame is of one who has been perpetually starved. Her eye sags from a lack of sleep, and as she opens it fully it does not seem to see the back of the room but something far off in the distance. As she opens her voice to speak, it is a high-pitched slow wail that escapes, it almost echoes in an other worldly manner.

"It is here. The place I saw all those many months ago, and so my vision has come to pass. He will meet me here and together we will stand against the ill that hangs over my head like a curse. With the others he has brought with him too. I see such triumph, pain and joy. "

Her head snaps forward, she brushes her hair back and her piercing eyes now focus on the table where Kyne is sat. She smirks as she meets Kyne's gaze, then laughs, her voice now much more mortal.

" Hello brother. Sorry, I know you hate when I do that. I seem to have very little control these days though."

She smiles, clearly glad to see him, but the pain is written all over her frame as she limps over towards the group. 

Kyne bolts to his feet, crossing the common room in the blink of an eye to catch Seb'riel by the elbow before she can stand no longer.

"Seb!" He exclaims, throwing her arm around his shoulders and helping his sister to a chair at the table where the party is breakfasting.

"You made it! Gods, Seb... are you alright? How did you wind up here? I thought you were still in Highwood!"

He helps the ragged elf out of her filthy cloak and tries to look for any serious injuries.

"You need a bath!" He chides, with a warm laugh.

She grins back. 

"Couldn't stand the thought of you owing me one. Knew it would be eating away at you, so I let them take me. You were taking too long though so I had to let myself out." She smirks again as she grabs some left over food from his plate. Her face grows serious.

"I must rest, but we need to go back. I found so much in Highwood, but now my research is all left behind. She has it all Kyne." She grips his arm suddenly with dirty and broken nails, pleading with him. Her grip is weak despite the suddenness of the grab, and the wound in her chest is clearly paining her as she moves. The intensity in her eyes is fierce though as she pleads with him. "You must help me get it back."

     "Wow," Hurosk says removing his hands from his ears after Seb'riel bursts into the inn. He looks to Kyne. "Making an entrance must run in the family?!" He smiles and scoops another forkful of his breakfast into his mouth.

     After the siblings have had a chance to briefly catch up, the half-orc rises from his meal. "Glad to see that you made it out, but go back so soon... Some of us barely escaped that vampire ourselves!"

"Perhaps these conversations would be better suited to our rooms, glad as we all are to see you my lady. I am Lyreis, you brother has told us somewhat of your skills but it seems not all." Looking to see if the others follow the battlemaster prepares to lead the way, having spoken in common so far he switches to elven knowing Hurosk at least will understand from the others. "Shall we expect pursuit immediately, or do we have time, I would rather we did not endanger the folk staying here more than necessary." 

Kyne chuckles at Hurosk's jibe.

"I've no idea what you mean," he throws back with a smirk, helping Seb'riel up the stairs. He runs one hand through her hair, wiping away some of the dirt and grime as he sets her down on the bed

"We'll get it back, Seb," he answers earnestly, grasping her by the hand and meeting her gaze firmly. "We'll get you well and we'll get it back. Even if you and I have go by ourselves."

Smiling sympathetically at Hurrosk's mention of their own tangle with the vampire, Seb shrugs at the suggestion they leave the common room but gets up anyway with Kyne's help. She gestures towards the sky as she follows Lyreis towards the stairs, though she looks longingly at the plate. 

"They tend to hide from the sun. Retribution will surely follow, but not until nightfall. I will prepare my spells and keep us safe..." she breaks off. "Could we get some of that food upstairs? I suppose I will need a room too, not that I have much time for rest..." She visibly calms at Kyne's promise of help and seems to relax into a cheerful state, though her movements are still stiff and without the cloak many old injuries are visible. As she sits again upstairs she waves her hands, muttering under her breath and much of the dirt and grime begins to clear itself away. 

The dragonborn owner of the inn nods as if she was understanding Seb's last words. 

"May I suggest a bath before going to bed? " she says when they are closer to her. 

Seb laughs. "Why does everyone keep saying that? As you wish, I will take a bath." As she sits cleaning herself and her clothes up, listening to the others talk she mutters about how after months in captivity the only effect people seem to worry about is the smell it has left on her. The aides fill the tub, and when they come to inform her that it is ready she excuses herself from the room. It has been a long time since she had friendly company, and now being alone again she grabs the wall to steady herself against the sudden grip of panic that washes over her. Every shadow seems to move, every lantern flicker a threat. She closes her eyes and breathes. Opening again, she walks across the room. Removing her robes and lowering herself into the tub. She closes her eyes once again allowing the warm water to soothe the aches in her muscles. She centres herself as the priests had shown her those many years before, starting with her feet. There is nothing else, just the sensation in her toes, the slight pulse of the blood flowing through them, the warmth of the water, a tingling sensation on the skin. She draws her attention slowly upwards, the arch of her feet, the heels, the ankles, calves, knees, thighs, hips. She slowly continues the process until she reaches her face, allowing her hair to soak in the water she pulls the tangles out. Half an hour must have passed and the water is getting cold as she finally stands again, taking a robe that has been left on the side. She empties the pockets of her old robe, turning over the figurine of the dancer in her hands, but she does not put them back on. Wrapped in the robe she heads back to the others.

Forcing a grin on her face as she entries the room in which they are gathered. "There, hopefully my smell will no longer offend so much that my brother and tavern owners will feel it necessary to bring up in place of sensible conversation. We have perhaps more important things to discuss."

She places her items on a shelf somewhere, except the coin purse which she tosses down in the centre of the group."This is what I have towards supplies, it will also need to cover my room and food though." She pauses a moment, her exterior cracking a little. "If somebody wouldn't mind going to buy me some clothes I would appreciate that too. I would rather not put those others back on."

Looking around the room she suddenly realises her rudeness and blushes. "Kyne you didn't even introduce me to all of your friends here. Lyreis has introduced himself, but I feel terribly rude not being able to address anybody else by name." The grin is back on her face, the change in subject back away from the clothes seems to have done all the good for her mood. 

"Once we have gotten introduced I would like to hear your story, it seems we must return to the island and possibly confront Morlainne, if this must be then you will need to tell us everything we might need to know about her lair, and it's inhabitants. I don't wish to rush you, it appears you have had a hard time recently, but we must be prepared, supplies readied and strategies discussed. We will not achieve our victory without the groundwork. And I must confess I have almost no experience of combating this type of undead, any knowledge we have must be pooled."

Seb nods, she tries to keep the smile in place but it clearly cracks. She reaches instinctively for the pack at her feet but then remembers it is empty.

"They have all of my writing supplies or I would draw you a map. I know only of the vampire mistress, two followers who seem to be her creations. They consider themselves her apprentices." The bruise in her back and the ache in her arm begin to bother her again and she finches in her seat before settling back down, massaging her wrists. "And a warforged bodyguard. Incredibly loyal, but sometimes kind. What there is in the lower levels would be no more than a guess, but she is building something for her personal war to come. Perhaps one big thing, perhaps an army. I do not know." She looks down at her feet, breathing in deeply and then looking back up." The terrors of the past are behind me now, this time I passed the test and they will control me no longer." This out of context statement seems more of a command to herself than to be directed at anybody in the room, but there is a slight arcane crackle in the air, as though the room is responding to the force of her words. 

While Seb'riel bathes, Kyne arranges for a plate of food to be brought up for her when she's done. He laughs heartily at his sister's jabs when she returns, and simply stands and wraps his broad arms around her in a big, long hug.

"Gods, I've missed you," he tells her, pushing a golden lock out of her face. "Nothing else matters now. We'll get your work back from Morlainne, one way or another."

"I'll get you some new clothes," Kyne assures, gathering up the vampire gold, "and pay for your room and board. As for my friends, Lyreis you've met. The others are Hurosk, Moltaris and Mathilda."

The elf gestures about the room at each of them as he goes.

"Everybody, this is my sister, Seb'riel."

Moltaris gives a simple wave and nod of greeting. "Are you in need of healing care, Seb'riel? I would think any sibling of Kyne's might be..." she asks with the tiniest of grins flickering at one corner of her mouth as she glances side-eye at Kyne.

Chuckling at Moltaris' jibe Lyreis calls over to Kyne "I will stay here, if your sister does not wish to leave then I will remain here, none of us should be alone now, I know the danger is lessened during the day but I do not think we are invulnerable because of it. Besides, I can update her on how we found out about Morlainne and how hard you worked to gather all that information." Smiling to himself he adds "That means some of the others should go with you as well.  Do we know what we need from the town?"

Seb'riel smiles at Moltaris' kind offer and laughs at the jibe. "I thank you for the offer. I fear there is little healing that could reach these wounds though, they are for time to mend." The cold wound on her chest can already be seen to be going down, and the bruises are more green and fading than fresh. There are old red marks and scars on her wrists and ankles that show signs of tight bonds, though they look as though they are from several months ago.

She leans back in her chair, beginning to relax a little. "You are a healer then, of what kind are your healing talents? I have met with herbalists, potion brewers, travelling story tellers with promises of words that could soothe pains, the priests of the undying though, their manipulation of the weave to envoke its life energy, so subtle and beautiful, yet they were blissfully unaware of the more elegant nature of their craft, so wrapped up with its effect on the mortal realm. They were always looking to the wrong end of their work, the power was at the source, not in the result. And I who could appreciate it, could never quite master that particular craft." She sighs, a wave of nostalgia washing over her, visibly easing more of her pain as she speaks. 

Molly reaches up and lets her fingers run over the raw and red scarring on her throat from Lady Morlainne's feasting. "Yes, I understand."

She listens and lets silence fall between them for a moment as she processes Seb'riel's words. Finally, she takes a deep breath and replies, "I am a servant of Taratai, the Bright Mother of the Kalashtar. Her blessing to me can provide healing, like most of her servants, but she has given me a different calling. She has charged me to give the Good Death to monsters who prey on the daughters of this world." Her eyes flicker over to Mathilda (if Thilda is at the table with them) before coming back to the elf. "Like that ***** that fed on us," she growls, nodding to Seb'riel. 

"Hey!" Kyne calls back at Moltaris with a laugh, but he's clearly too happy to see Seb too be annoyed. However, his expression darkens when Lyreis speaks of the potential threat.

"You're right, of course, Lyreis," he replies. "I need some new rope, and we could use some stakes, although we can make those. Holy water - holy oil if we can get it. Silversheen if we can find that too. Molly, you're a priestess. You can probably bless some oil or water, right?"

"What about you?" Kyne asks Seb'riel, turning back to the yellow haired elf. "Do you need me here? Somebody else can go if you want me to stay."

     Hurosk nods to Seb'reil when Kyne mentions him by name. "Hello again. Hurosk d'Velderan, hunter of all things.... Well, of all things." 

     "Probably shouldn't be getting too far ahead of ourselves," he says to the group. "I imagine Mr. Nose will be the cause of more questions when we speak to him tonight."

Seb'riel smiles and nods at Moltaris' description of her powers.

"It will be interesting to see you work. The similarities of the way the weave bends and ripples between the arcane and divine are undeniable, yet their differences the focus of so much contention. When I do my work, I pluck the strings and follow the lines back and forth, but when the powers come from another source, they work as though at a corner. The weave pulled tight between me and the court like a bow string. But perhaps this is for another time. Forgive me, it has been too long since I was able to talk freely and now I abuse the privilege."

She waves Kyne away. "Go, much as I missed you I need not your protection, and the keeper can keep me company." She glances at the destinctive scimitar on Lyreis' back. 

"Just return well before nightfall, or it is you who would wish you had my protection. For now I must rest, pray, and prepare myself mentally. I have another friend who I must bring back. Tonight I will keep us safe, and tomorrow we will go to the lake."

She looks quizzically at Hurosk though. "Mr Nose? "