A number of emotions slip past the hobgoblin's guard ranging in intensity from very mild surprise and disappointment to aggravation and frustration, before finally ending with tired acceptance of the truth. Most notably neither guilt or sadness entered the equation. At least as far as anyone can see before Narz sat down and gently facepalm. "I suppose it was inevitable. That man was far too inflexible. Something... a part of me respected, frustrating as it was, and even hoped might see him through to keeping his word before the end of our journeys together." He admits, letting out a bit of sigh on the last word.

"But like the Torsus says. It is what is, and what's done is done. You did right by him in perhaps more ways than one, Claire. Reflect still if you need to. Mourn even, if you wish. But, take solace in that duty fulfilled." He gets up on that note, pats Claire on the shoulder, and then a following a look to everyone else, began making his way for his room. He stops short a few steps and looks back to Claire. "Assuming you've been left his last effects, we can discuss the matter of what to do with them tomorrow. Until then, I... I'll see you all tomorrow." On that note, he carries on his way.

Claire looks between Torsus and Narz and offers a smile.  "Thank you.  I mean it..."  Claire finally lifts her drink and takes a sip, grimacing at the strength of the drink and then setting the cup back down.  "I thought you were 'supposed' to get a drink like this in these kinds of situations... but it's not very good..."  [Insert Ayed's reaction and a response when her player returns].  After pushing herself through finishing the drink, Claire retires for the night.

Torsus wouldn't linger long either. His stomache was still full from the bird, and with his food supplies replenished, and the situation itself, over, he asked the owner for one of the 'lower teir' rooms. Electing to sleep on the floor if need be, and would pay his dues before heading to rest.

(Will move us forward sometime in the next couple days)

You all get whatever rest you can and reconvene in the morning. Breakfast is quiet and somber, the silence at your table only broken up by Dakkurz standing and saying Well, its best I start heading out now. I'd like to get to this tower of yours before the next snowfall. Its been an adventure traveling with you all for sure. She looks to each if you and raises a mug. Safe travels friends. Get to Waterdeep safely. She takes a drink then looks to Claire, debating id she should say anything to the Cleric. Seeming to decide against it she just nods solemnly and heads for the door.

You quietly finish your breakfast and get started in the road. The next few days are relatively peaceful, bless with relatively warm days and the snow from nearly a week ago almost entirely melted. By time you reach the next town your boots, in for those with mounts your horses/worgs, are caked with mud. However you have arrived at Amphail, a town located in the hills north of Waterdeep thats somewhat famous locally for its prized horses. In the town square is a statue of a rearing horse that looks like its been gelded at somepoint since the black stone statue was placed. Right now the square is very lively, with several tents and stalls set up and vendors peddling all sorts of foods from grilled corn, roast pork, and various Waterdavian inspired sweets which kids seem to be eagerly lining up for. Theres even a pair of bards performing music in the square along with some performers doing carnival tricks, breathing fire, knife juggling, creating illusions etc 

Across from the statue sits the inn the Stagg-Horned Flaggon. Those of you who may care to recall might remember Miros Xelbrin AKA The Yeti, the barkeep in Goldenfields, ask for you to stop in and check up on his friend Arleosa Starhenge who was said to own the establishment. He said it was likely you'd be given free rooms if you dropped his name.

"Dakkurz! Before you leave." Narz calls to her. "I will try to keep in contact with you via magic when I can. And if I come across any prospective recruits for you, I'll send them your way, with the understand they'll be under your command, if that is alright with you?" He asked. "And of course, with you having the final say if they stick around." Whether the answer to all that is a favorable one or not, Narz had little more than add other than hashing out other details the party or merc leader might have on the subject. As for the inevitable talk about any of Rollo's remaining effects, he'd suggest to keep hold of his weapon from the time being and having the potion of superior healing plus the bead of force redistributed torsus and Ayed respectively. That, and see about passing the cold weather gear to Ayed and Claire, assuming they had not purchased some already. To Torsus, he could only aplogize, stating that his particular frame might require more specialty work from more experienced tailors in waterdeep.

This is about as animated as the hobgoblin is, as the days to follow on the road is one in which he'd keep largely to himself, spending what free time there was in studying his notes. But once the group have reached Amphail next, he is at once relieved and mildly annoyed at the liviliness of the place. "Still better then that Hilltop Inn," He quietly mused. "If there are no objections, we should speak to Miros', uh, acquiantance first. Get settled in, and hopefully get directions." Narz suggest, but almost just as quickly adds, "Though if any would prefer explore and... mn... raising your spirits, I suppose, first, then by all means. Things have been rather grim of late." 

Claire's eyes light up at the festivities.  "My home village never had anything like this... or, well, maybe just not enough people to do something like this."  Her attention swivels between several of the attractions before her smile fades momentarily.  Then she laughs.  "Rollo would have hated it here... We should go talk to that innkeeper the Yeti mentioned.  After that... some merrmient would do us some good, I think."

Torsus doesn't stop her, but wishes her luck on her journey, and tells her to keep an eye on her back atleast until within the safety of the tower. Not as a threat but a friendly 'be careful' of sorts. He ate his food slowly, if only to enjoy it more. Tipping whoever served them a few silvers for their troubles. He also had to hunt down his mount, having left it untethered the day before likely wasting atleast an hour of time, apologizing to whomever needed one before the group finally set out. He ruminated initially on the loss of the education - wondering if he should have let the group handle it so he could attain that knowledge. That, however, was the past and he decided to let it settle there. Before they left, however Torsus reminded Narz that he already had some tailored for himself before ever joining the party but thanked him for his concern. He even had some for his mount!

During the travels he talks when spoken to, and volunteers for first watch.. if only to get some solid sleep before waking up, and scavenging as they go whenever the party stops for the night before the darkness sets in.

Once the party finally arrives at this strange town that Torsus has never heard of, and he takes in the new scene curiously.Torsus didn't remember the name or the task given by the Yeti, so others would have to take charge of that particular matter. Torsus initially considers playing a trick on the performers, since his own illusions were likely much more powerful, but in light of the vampire attack, despite the fact he regained his spell energy swifter than some, he decided that using his spells willy nilly was no longer a viable option in his estimation.

Ah, oh yes, I had utterly forgotten about that Narz. As for raising spirits, nay. I'd rther not have another entrepreneurial event be stolen from my grasp. He said without accusation, since there really was no blame to go around. As much as I wouldn't mind looking around, we're as much like to hear tell of something in this place Miros mentioned as we are by wandering randomly. I say we make haste and see what we can find out there. See if there is anything of interest to know or learn, and see if the discovery outweighs our current task or not. the tortle said practically.

Towards Claire, he simply nodded that she could do as she pleased.

Dakkurz nods and agrees if only to help with the securing of the tower as there's no indication of what state its in or who if anyone is there already, knowing only it is supposed to be currently abandoned but also knowing that any sort of person or creature may have take up residence.

(Rolls in discord for Torsus. As discussed you get 5 days worth of rations.)

Heading right for the tavern you quickly find the place to be packed with people. The guests are currently singing along to classic drinking song led by bard who is just as deep in their cups as the guests. Behind the bar a middle aged woman with grey hair frantically pours and serves drinks though she's able to keep up with the demand by herself. When you approach she takes a moment to catch her breath and calls out Welcome to the Flaggon! What can I gotcha? Eh? You all look new in town. You guests of the Lord? If not you at least picked a good day to stumble into town. Food and drink are all paid for so eat and drink your fill.

In a corner of the Tavern:

Lord Roaringhorn laughs loudly as he finishes his tale, a crude of jovial story of dubious truthfulness involving himself in his younger days involving a drunken fling with an elf, who upon waking up sober the next day he realized was actually two halfings. I swore after that I'd not touch the drink against, but then I met my wife's parents the following day. Gods rest their souls but I promise a more stuffy bunch you'll not find among the Lords of Baldurs Gate. They would drive the most devote monks to the drink I tell you. 

The others at the table laugh, some more sincerely than others. Around the table is the young Lord Harold Amcathra, a young man of 19 with Auburn hair and only the bare beginnings of a fine beard, Lord Dauner Ilzimmer, a short but bombastic male in his 30s who cares more for horses than people, and of course the storyteller Lord Tylandar Roaringhorn, a man who at one point in time was clearly quite strong but has since grown fat in his old age and whose 63rd birthday you are currently celebrating. Around the table are also lesser members of each Noble house and special guests of honor, including yourself Artys. You've only just arrived in town last night after a few days of travel from Waterdeep. The invitation came to you from House Roaringhorn, who as always been supportive of your family and your plight. House Amcathra has never openly commented on what happened but seems to be symoathic while Lord Ilzimmer, who is currently the Lord Warner of Amphail and thus in charge of the town,  has little to no interest in your family matters. Though you may have initially accepted the invitation our of politeness and perhaps even the chance you might convince the other noble houses to help fund the rebuilding of your family lands, you also have another reason to be here.

Your last night on the road was plagued by a fitful sleep and a vision, a vision you believe from your God himself. In the vision Tyr seems angry, angrier than what might be considered normal anyway, and he commanded you to take up arms to avenge a favored Cleric whose work was left incomplete. At least thats how you interpreted the vision, as by the next morning the exact details were fuzzy. Regardless, you know the Companions of this cleric were supposedly destined for Waterdeep, and that by lucky happenstance would mean they must pass through Amphail. So you've sat here, eating the Lords food and drinking his drink while waiting for some sign of these strangers when finally someone new enters the tavern. To your surprise, they seem to be led by a hobgoblin. Also among them are two women, one in heavy armor looking fairly dour and another who reminds you of the warrior monks that occasionally pass through Waterdeep, and the Tortle, a creature you've never seen before and have only read about in books of exotic lands.

Sir Oakland? Wake up lad! The old Lords voice brings you back to your immediate surroundings. You okay boy? I was asking of the journey from Waterdeep was pleasant. We've been blessed with warm weather this past week, the Gods must want to celebrate today as well eh?

Sir Artys Oakland rouses from his stupor and looks to the older man. He strokes his long black beard and brushes some crumbles off of his yellow and black armor. "My apologies, Lord Roaringhorn, Tyr was drawing my attention to something he felt I needed to see. Yes, the weather was quite pleasant, a welcome change." 

Artys calls over a server. "Could you please have some meals and drinks sent to the hobgoblin, tortle, and two ladies over there. And ask them if they would be so kind as to come and speak with me later." With that he goes back to observing his courtesies for now.

The sever nods and heads behind the bar to speak to the Hostess. Eh? Well sure we were just getting to that but sure. See to it a table is cleared for them. The hostess turns back to the party. Well, seems the knight over in the corner there would like an audience with you folks. Though it seems you're to be fed and rested first. We'll clear out a table for ya and food and drink will be sent. Is there anything else you need while you're here? Rooms perhaps?

Although Narz would try to keep up appearances, the party at least would notice him grow just a bit more tense and on alert more than usual since stepping into the busy Inn. With the closest comparison of a similar situation in a long while being during the group's last stay in waterdeep, one might suspect leeriness when it came confined spaces and dense population of bodies. "It appears your Lady Tymora smiles upon us all this day, eh? What with free food and drink 'n all." Narz said, affecting what he hoped was an amicable, if albeit small smile. "Strange thing that. But, uh, yes. If you are Madam Arleosa Starhenge, or know where she might be at this moment, we had suggested to us by a grateful associate back in golden fields, that we might find ourselves at least some manner of free or discounted rooming in this here fine establishment should we mention his name. A, uh... MiIros Xelbrin ring any bells? Otherwise known as the Yeti, as I otherwise understand things."

"The name is Narz by the way, on the off chance he sent word of all this and more ahead of us."  He offered as much along with a slight bow but hold off on any other pleasantries given the busyness of the establishment. If the others yet wanted to introduce themselves though, the hobgoblin wouldn't stop them short of seeing the hostess grow distressed at any point. "And forgive me if this rather presumptuous, but.." He side-eyed the night. "Do you know anything of that knight?" He asked as well, then looked to the others to see if they might recognize him as well.

The woman gives you an appraising look. The Yeti eh? So old Miros is offering my rooms for free is he? Maybe I'll return the favor and tell my next guests to go get his best room for free. Her serious tone quickly becomes a laugh. I'm kidding of course! A friend of Miros is a friend of mine! I got two spare rooms that are all yours. How is the old dog anyway? Haven't seen him in a while it feels like. After a bit of banter she looks over towards the indicated knight. Hm? Oh not much. New arrival in town like you, just rode in last night. Sir Oakland? Oakmont? Something with a tree. Arleosa shrugs. Think Lord Roaringhorn invited him for the Lords birthday celebration. I haven't really spoken more than a few words to him though he's been polite enough. Strange for a knight though. Usually them types have at least one person following them around to help them with their horse and armor. He came alone and did most of that himself.

Torsus took in the situation within the inn as well, noting that the entire town seemed to be in high spirits. What with the bards and performers outside, the festivities inside... Unless this is simply how this town always is... he thinks to himself, as he starts scanning around the entire place enchanting a spell as he does, not fully entering the inn just yet, scanning the skies and whatever was visible over any walls/buildings. Torsus' metaphorical-hackles were raised. In his experience, when much joviality was to be had was usually when something or someone would strike. He halfheartedly caught bits and pieces of the bragging lords commentary before fully entering the building - only to be summarily met with the woman who had approached. Not wanting to add more fluff to the conversation - both since everyone else had said what was needed - but also not wanting to be the cause of a hold up of her business, held back a small joke he had considered.

"Thank you for your hospitality.  Greenfield was attacked by giants but Miros is safe.  The whole town is grieving their losses, but they're all pulling through together," Claire says to the woman with a smile.  Baring further conversation, she then follows the staff to the table that has been cleared for them, eyeing the knight in the corner as they go.  Narz had asked the innkeeper about the knight, but the tortle had yet to comment on the matter.  "You don't happen to know him, do you Torsus?"  After his answer, she snickers.  "Regardless, the food was a nice gesture... or... at least it would have been if it wasn't free already but..." the cleric finishes her sentence with a shrug.  Then she waves to the knight.  "You coming to us?! Or are we coming to you after we eat!?"

The knight gives her a looking of amusement and confusion and raises a hand in return. "Well, I wouldn't be a very good guest if I abandoned the Lord at his own party, so how about after I'm done I'll come and find you. You all don't seem hard to find."

Lord Roaringhorn turns back to see the group before turning back to Artys. Eh? Friends of youre Sir Oakland? If you'd like to join them please feel free. You are my guest afterall not my prisoner! The Lord laughs while the party is brought several plates of food including roasted pheasant, steamed vegetables, large chunks of rare roast beef and several mugs of ale and a pitcher of wine and some glasses. 

Enjoy, you folk need anything else just tell myself one one of the serving girls. They ain't bright but they'll get you what ya need.

The hobgoblin's expression falters a bit into a slightly more solemn frown. Yet with Claire mercifully stepping up to answer, Narz looked a bit relieved and simply nodded in agreement to the story. Similarly to Torsus, in not wanting to hold things up further, Narz is also content to simply grab a table and bid Spaz to appear beside him, if only to have an extra pair of eyes on look out. He's taken aback a bit a moment later at the exchange between Claire and nobleman's table. Yet in spite of this, he says nothing to contradict or dissuade getting to the meat of prior concerns. Rather, he tried in the brief crossover to study the man as one might a future opponent. If he however sees any outward symbols connecting Artys to Rollo's faith along the way, he'd close his eyes and let out a soft but tired sigh.

"So, as I and the rest of my compatriots here understand it, you have some business with us, Sir Oakland? Care to elaborate? The name is Narz, by the way. I'm sure my compatriots can introduce themselves, as well." He said, regarding the man intently while Spaz gets sidetracked trying to nip some roasted pheasant for himself.

Summarily dismissed Artys stands and gives a nod to the group. "Thank you, m'lord. Unfortunately when a god calls it never seems to be at a time when I'm not busy." He walks over to the table where the others are sat.

The knight is dressed in a yellow doublet, laid over black ringmail that he looks quite comfortable in. When he comes he brings his pack with him. Attached to it are a large warhammer, one side tapered into an armor piercing spike, and a yellow shield emblazoned with the head of a stag. The center of the shield is a metal stud, on which is stamped with the balanced scales on the warhammer of Tyr. "Quite simple, Narz, your business is my business. I am a servant of Tyr, who told me that a cleric of his traveled with your group on a quest. Tyr has directed me to take up the clerics journey, as he cannot complete it himself."  He signals for another round of drinks, regardless of if anyone has finished theirs or not.

"Hmn. I suppose we should be thankful a god has taken so much an interest in this matter." Narz says sounding a bit resigned in tone. "Well, two technically, counting Claire here... Three if I were to count another, uh, compatriot I know that led me to this course." At that realization, the hobgoblin crossed his arms and looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling for a good clip there. "... Huh... In any event, I do apologize if I came off sounding rather depreciative there. I have nothing against the gods and goddesses of the realms as whole, or against your Tyr. It just...  No, it would be in poor taste to speak ill of the dead." 

He frowns and shakes his head. "So, Tyr sent you then? I suppose that makes you one of his clerics? Perhaps Paladins? Or might you b esimply one of his devoted then, eh?"