REGHETYR

Roll a DC 10 Intimidation check.

Intimidation check: 22

For those of you who notice it, Reghetyr seems rather nervous. You may want to think that the event outside the inn left a profound impact, but that would be incorrect. It feels as if he's late for something.

REGHETYR

As Reghetyr advances on the woman, she seems to stifle a gasp when he clasps the coins into her hand - she seems paralyzed in surprise and fear, as what was basically a red lizard had just grabbed her by the arm and was now making demands. In a low, startled mumble she replies: "I - I don't, I'm not the - Innkeep, I don't, I - It would be upstairs, but - I don't know if you've - paid for it!" Among the commotion of the tavern, nobody appears to notice - however the poor Gnomish maid is beginning to hyperventilate, and looking very faint.

Whatever strange fit was holding Reghetyr dissipates, and he lets go of her wrist.

"Beg your pardon sssweatheart. Reghetyr sometimes forgets himself. Who can point Reghetyr to hisss room darling?" 

REGHETYR

The maid gulps, and takes several deep breaths, before pointing to the previously mentioned Innkeeper.

(Last post for the day. Seeing family out of town. Hopefully this doesn't die in my absence.)

Oben observes Reghetyr with interest and decides to intervene to help him out.  Excuse me, miss - our rooms have in fact already been paid for, but maybe I'd better speak to the innkeeper, just to make sure everything's on the level.  

To the dragonborn, he says reassuringly.  Just gimme a sec here, buddy, I'll make sure they know who we are, pick up the keys, that sort of thing.  Maybe wait upstairs in the hall, if you like?

Oben heads over and talks to the innkeeper.  Good day, my friend.  The name's Oben.  It's a genuine pleasure to meet you.  Well, we're a party of four, and I understand our employer has already paid for our rooms.  I'm thinking you know who I'm talking about?

"Reghetyr, what just happened? Why did you harass that poor gnome woman?"

Ignoring the situation with the maid and Reghetyr, Inssol will take a few mighty swigs of water, as much as his body can take, then lets out a burp. "Quite refreshing! Yes! Great water!" He continues to drink.

OBEN

The Innkeeper considers your inquiry for several moments, before a flash of recognition spreads across their face. They nod quickly, drawing up a set of four dull silver keys. "Yes, yes, the Baron? I was told that a party would be arriving here soon . . . well, here you are. I hope the rooms are to your satisfaction. Enjoy your night, travelers. Your expenses, are of course, already taken care of." - And with that, hand the keys off to Oben.

EVERYONE

The Gnome has now disappeared into a backroom, recovering from the harrowing encounter with Reghetyr.

"Vesssper darling, no need to be concerned, be assured of thisss. Pressing mattersss call my attention." with a grin on his face.

"Oben, frrriend. If you don't mind, Reghetyr will take the key to hisss room and excuse himself for the night" says Reghetyr as he shows his upward looking palm.

Once he gets the key to his room, Reghetyr will go to his room and will remain there until the next morning. Those with adjacent rooms may notice whispering throughout the night.

REGHETYR

Oben hands the keys to the other three.  Here you go.  And see you all at breakfast, eh?

With that, Oben will take a seat at the bar, order himself a drink, and look around the other patrons to see if he can find someone who might want some friendly conversation.

OBEN

Roll a DC 11 Perception check.

Taking a seat, a newly introduced bartender fetches you your drink, before asking for a payment of four copper pieces. The other customers seem friendly enough, if a little tipsy, and your human likeliness doesn't draw much unwanted attention. You spot Reghetyr hastily taking his key and rushing up the stairs to his room, however the rest of the party, for now, remains within the tavern.

Oben's Perception 22

OBEN

Seated directly to your left is a middle aged, seemingly Half - Elven man, with dark brown hair that has already began to recede. His perplexing seems friendly, however his current expression is sad, even pathetic within the dim candle light of the bar counter. As you observe him, the bartender hands him a pitcher of mead, which he subsequently pays for and begins absently sipping. He clearly is in deep thought about some unsavory topic, judging from the very way he is conducting himself. There are other patrons seated at the bar, however they appear to be separated into different cliques themselves, and not open for strangers intruding on their already established conversations.

Oben catches the guy's eye.  You look like a man with something on his mind.  The name's Oben; he offers his hand to shake.  I'm new in town.  They say a trouble shared is a trouble halved, my friend.

OBEN

The man takes your hands in both of his, grateful for the kind greeting. "Oben? Yes, yes, very much so! Thank you for being so kind to a stranger. Say. are ye' the adventuring sort? I've got something for you if. . . well, I don't mean to trouble you, but. . . " His shaky voice trails off, as the man runs his hands through his hair. "I don't believe I've introduced myself. My name is Hilben Entris, just call me . . . Hilben . . ." The man resumes consuming his drink, as he uses the back of a knuckle to wipe away a tear from his eye. 

It's good to meet you, Hilben, says Oben with his best warm reassuring smile.  Tell me your troubles.  I can't make any promises, except to listen.  My ma always said I was a good listener.   Oben takes a swig of his drink, and casts an eye around the tavern to see if anyone else is paying attention to Hilben. Perception (if a new roll is needed): 15

OBEN

Perception: Most customers appear to be engaged with their own individual activities, and aren't currently paying any mind to your conversation with the man.

Hilben takes a deep breath, before beginning to speak: "I'm. . . well, was, a merchant. My wife and I would run supplies down to the outposts at the Plateau, and we made quite the living doing so. Of course, there was troubles with beasts and brigands, but we hired some guards to fend em' off. Course, guess our luck ran out..." He exhaled shudderingly, scratching his scalp and fidgeting with the handle of his drink. "Some bandits came after us, just bout' ten miles up the road, and we couldn't take them on. The guards were killed, me wife captured, and I barely escaped with my life. I should have died there with them." Hilben takes a moment to think. "Those bandits had an insignia on their cloaks. Looked like an emerald crescent, it did. I would give all I had left to anybody who could figure out what happened to my darling." He burst out in tears, guzzling the rest of his mead. The Half - Elf went to fetch coin for another mug.