Following behind his dwarven friend, a 6ft tall humanoid, with simple clothes, a strange amount of fur, and a monkey's tail, enters the bar, looking around in an almost speedy fashion. He seems hurried, but also lost, sticking close to the one he entered in with.

Fang is looking back and forth inside the Sword's Edge, attempting to spot anyone who looks like they'd be able to help with the fight on the beach. Eventually he spots the group of elves with his blue eyes, and a confused look crosses his face. Nudging Baxthon, he'll point to them and ask, "What are they? They seem interesting.Should we say hi?"

The door to the Tavern opens, and you see 2 figures entering the inn. One is a Dwarf, with long braided red hair and beard. Next to him, you see a beastlike man, with fur and a tail. They look around the inn. Catches eyes with one of you. Then they look at eachother, exhanging some inaudible words, before walking up to the barkeep, trying to get some beer and food.

  Daeron spots the two individuals who just entered the bar. A Dwarf and an animal man. That's an unusual combination and considering who we are, that's saying a lot. Are they looking at us?  "Don't look now, but I think that those two who just entered the tavern are looking at us." He whispers to his allies. 

"Another angry dwarf is the last thing we need" the elf sighs before continuing "are they looking at all of us or the two of us?" he gestures toward the drow and himself "we've gotten a few devilish stares moving through town. Either way, what do you suppose they want with us?"

"They were looking at all of us. The dwarf didn't seem angry. I haven't the least bit idea what they want. Just act natural."

The smell of food, piss and beer seems strangely familiar, and Baxthon feels a bit of calm running through him. Looks up at Fang. "Yes, lets go greet the elves. Maybe they know what happened on the boat. One of the zombies was an elf after all."
Baxthon orders a pork stew, and a pint of beer, before heading for the table of the elves.

Fang smiles and almost skips over to the groups and stands in front of their table.

"Hey! I'm Fang! We need help to fight some, zombies? You guys seem different. Can you fight?"

He speaks with the same energy as a monkey but seems to be genuinely excited and with a near burning gaze.

Esfira was mostly quiet during the wait for cooked food, content to dreaming about sinking her teeth into some steak and wondering how the ale would taste. As she held no recollection to any time before awaking on this land, she wasn't even sure she liked ale or if she had a particular pallet for luxury. When she did drink however it didn't matter much as she happily gulped it down.

She was too far enjoying her drink to truly heed Daeron and Savan's warnings of new arrivals, but at a greeting she finally looked to the two and found herself startled. Not due to the fact that they seemed a little apart from the other villagers she has seen so far, but to the furred tail the tall humanoid, Fang he said, sported that actually moved. His excited gaze made her slightly uncomfortable (after all, all she have seen so far for herself and Savan have been cautious glances), so she shrinks in her seat, pressing closer to whomever is to her left.

"We can say the same about yourself," she says from her new spot, "About seeming different, I mean. Could we save fighting zombies for tomorrow however? I've had enough excitement for the day."

Baxthon gives a sigh at this remark. "Let me introduce myself. The name is Baxthon. I was under the impression that you lot, like the two of us, was a part of the accident on the beach?" He looks at every face at the table while speaking, trying to spot any reaction.
"The two of us however seem to have lost any recollection of who, or what transpired before this morning. I was hoping that you could shine some light on the matter. See the village Guardian, a halfbreed, is sacrificing his life as we speak, to rescue a village, whos guards seems unlikely to fathom the seriousnes of the situation. As i see it, we as newcomers have 2 options now. Either we do nothing, let the Guardian die and get blamed. For trust me on this one. Zombies starts attacking the same day as a bunch of new people shows up? I dont believe that to be a coincidense, and my bet is that the villagers will come to the same conclusion soon enough. Or we leave as soon as possible, rescue the Guardian, and put all the zombies to rest.
I myself am pretty interested in knowing what or who started all this." He then takes a good look at the elves. "Did you know that some of the zombies were elves..?"

Panavor put down his ale "It wouldn't surprise me after all there was alot when we washed ashore the beach. There probably alot human and some dwarf zombies in there to, and even..." He stares a second at Fang. "Nvm he prolly special kind of snowflake."

"However we did the sensible thing to run when we know we where outnumbered. We just fought only 3 goblin and some of us got pretty beaten up in the proces of that, I don't see us even winning against a horde of zombies if we where all rested up leave alone in our current state."

The half-elf take another sip of the ale "I rather get blamed unjustly then killed and eaten by horde of zombies just to save a fool that din't know the odds was stacked against him."

"Yes, to be honest, we were too concerned about the fact that there were zombies to pay attention to whether they were elves or not. We would also like to get to the bottom of this, but that's not possible if we're all dead. Which is why we've taken on a job for this Dwarf who works as a blacksmith here. Perhaps you could join us and we might get a better rate for having a Dwarf in our party." He smirks, before noticing Esfira enjoying herself. "Do you want mine? It seems like you'd enjoy it more than I am."

"I dont know.. its all very exhausting. Why cant we remember anything.." He scratches his beard. Then take a sip of his beer. "Well. This, at least is familiar!" Baxthon quaffs the rest of the beer and slams the empty mug on the table. "Using me to handle the dwarf eh..? Id like to give it a shot. Its nice to have a purpose for once that doesnt involve me fighting." He gives a shiver. "Lets be blunt here, im not a warrior like my friend here. Im a bit at a loss to why the gods did not just make me a zombie, what can i do..?" He looks down at his scrawny hands. "I mean, its obvious i havent had a day of manual labor in my life, and now without my memory.." His voice break at that last bit. 

As you are talking, a young halfling woman awkwardly walks into your group. Sorry to bother, I was just wondering how many rooms you will be wanting? 

A small smile spread across her lips as she accepted Daeron's tankard without question. "Gods indeed," she hummed in small amusement. "They truly are particular in bringing unlikely folk in one place lacking memories among the undead." Her gaze softened at the dwarf's tone, and she added more gently, "There is a temple here, of no main god. The priest there was kind enough to let me pray there, after healing became an apparent ability of mine. Perhaps it could offer you some insight?"

Remembering the priest made her remember the half-orc in gold armor that left for the beach. "Was this Champion you spoke of happen to wear gold?"

"We'll need two or three rooms. I think our companion here would like to have a few moments where she doesn't have to be around a bunch of men." Then he turns back to Baxthon. "Yes, we've been learning ourselves about what we can do since we've come to this island. Perhaps you have some power that Esfira can help you find."

"Power?" Fang gives a quizzical look, then ponders on it for a little. Eventually he holds up his fist and says, "Earlier, while I was punching things, I felt warm and happy. Is that my power?"

The woman walks away to prepare the rooms.

Daeron shrugs in response to Fangs question. "Maybe. We don't really know what we can do. Maybe you have skill in the martial arts and your body is recalling what the mind cannot."  

The elf enjoys his stew and seems to enjoy his ale. "So then not everyone down there with us was dead. Too bad none of us spotted each other prior to our quick escape from the beach." he returns to finishing off his stew "I don't seem to be capable of magic like the other two, but my new sword feels familiar in my grip. I've definitely used one before. You figure they'll provide us with more food?" The elf finishes off his stew and begins thinking about the original meal he skipped towards the beginning of the day.

Baxthon looks at Daeron, then to Esfira with a curious expressiom, then starts mumbling to himself, looking down into his plate, while eating the stew. "The flies die from touch.." He looks up at Fang. "His hands was fine.." Takes another spoonful of stew. "Green energy.. necrotic?.. something else?.." He look at his left hand. "Halforcs, humans, beasts, dwarves.." He looks around the room, as if he is trying to locate something hidden. "Gods chosen eh.. who decide?.. powers.. alter for all gods? What gods?.." He continues mumbling like this for some time, until he then stands up with a jolt. "Rooms!" Looking very tired, but his eyes burning with a light blue flame. "You will have to excuse me, its been a very long day, and my mind needs rest."
Then he walk to the hafling woman. "Sorry mam. Do you have a single bed available, preferably in the basement or addic, where its less noisy. I really need to rest my mind. Its been a very exhausting day, and i could really use a quiet, dark room, you understand." Then he follows the halfling away from the common room, wherever she leads him.