The evening crowd, a gaggle of whom had remained standing by the entrance to watch the fight, now begin to return. Meloon salutes the party wordlessly and returns to his spot by the door, and Durnan congratulates them on their courage and offers them all a free tenday of food and lodging, should they so desire.
"Marvelous!" exclaims Volo, straightening his collar and patting down his trousers. "Stupendous! What daring! What skill! I feel that poor Floon is rescued already. Dear sirs, my very best wishes."
And he calls to Bonnie to order a platter of cheese pie and mincemeat.
Falshen offers his thanks to Durnan for the draught before retrieving his dagger and regaining his feet. "Well, that troll certainly packs a wallop." Rubbing his jaw with one hand, the young man glances about the room. "I take it from the gore and lack of a body that someone... er, convinced... the beast to return from whence it came?" Turning toward his new companions, he adds, "Did everyone survive?"
"Krrr! Yes, no thanks to you!" Akai squawks. "You two fell - embarrassing! - so Akai took control! Slew two enemies on his own! Bar-man and door-guard helped drive off last one." Ignoring Durnan and Meloon's reactions to his devaluation of their contribution, he continues, "Even blue one made a kill! Bad account of yourselves this fight - you have plans to make up for it?"
Without bothering to respond to the Kobold, Falshen turns to Irma, "It seems the stories I've heard about the bravery of Paladins were more than just hyperbole - it will be a pleasure to work with one who does not shy from the hard battles when surrounded by easier ones." Taking in the rest of the party, he continues, "What now, my companions in battle? Shall we seek answers at the Skewered Dragon, Neverember house, or elsewhere?"
Ian, looking at his arm, looking at the gore of the scene and on himself casts Prestidigitation and cleans himself up.
“Well, regardless of where we go, I think a rest is in order. I doubt Volo would be opposed to such after witnessing nearly half our party go down in battle. Personally, I need a recharge before we get into any more trouble.”
Gregor goes back over to the table and picks his hat up from the back of the chair, "Why not kill two birds with one stone? I can head over to the Skewered Dragon now, while those who need rest get some, and spend the night there after getting some information. We can meet up there in the morning, unless anyone has objections."
Shaking his head Irma clears himself of the full headache. “My eyes were bigger than my stomach that time for that fight, heh heh. Thanks for the potion barkeep.” “I do concur with the good bard on taking a rest, I’ll take a look at that nasty bite.” Irma Gerd casts Lay On Hands on Ian to heal him for 5 health.
Shaking his head Irma clears himself of the full headache. “My eyes were bigger than my stomach that time for that fight, heh heh. Thanks for the potion barkeep.” “I do concur with the good bard on taking a rest, I’ll take a look at that nasty bite.” Irma Gerd casts Lay On Hands on Ian to heal him for 5 health.
Stepping to stand by Gregor, Falshen addresses the party. "While I have no objection to splitting up, perhaps we should not travel alone, given master Geddarm's theory of kidnapping; a lone investigator can be made to vanish much more easily than a duo or whole team. I have no current need for rest and will be happy to accompany Gregor to the Skewered Dragon. We can begin a search for clues there and regroup in the morning. Perhaps those of you who remain here can ask around for possible leads. Master Geddarm, did Floon ever frequent the Yawning Portal? Is there anyone here who might be have information to contribute toward our investigation?"
Stepping to stand by Gregor, Falshen addresses the party. "While I have no objection to splitting up, perhaps we should not travel alone, given master Geddarm's theory of kidnapping; a lone investigator can be made to vanish much more easily than a duo or whole team. I have no current need for rest and will be happy to accompany Gregor to the Skewered Dragon. We can begin a search for clues there and regroup in the morning. Perhaps those of you who remain here can ask around for possible leads. Master Geddarm, did Floon ever frequent the Yawning Portal? Is there anyone here who might be have information to contribute toward our investigation?"
Volothamp glances about the common room, brushing crumbs from his beard.
"Well, of course Master Blaagmar is a well-known figure throughout every social circle of the city, man-about-town par excellence that he is, but as for a particular acquaintance? Let me see, let me see...ah yes!"
He waves in the direction of the hearth.
"I've known young Threestrings to drink with him on occasion. Perhaps he knows aught?"
The minstrel sits by the fire, tuning his lute and whistling cheerfully.
Akai hisses at Falshen's comments. "Hsss... 'Skewered Dragon?' Horrid name - pfah! You'll not see Akai at such a place! Stay here, keep an eye on hammer-man, lest he fall from a stiff breeze!"
Akai then registers Volo's remarks and addresses "Threestrings" Mereg, "You, lute-singer! Akai and companions have questions for you! You have words with one called 'Floon Blagmaar' of late?" He mutters to himself under his breath, "Huh, Blagmaar... blaaagmar... blllaag...maaarr... keheh! Fun name, that one!"
Annoyed, Akai hops back up on the table and calls out again. "Krrr! Yes, over here, lute-singer! Make your way here, and make it quickly! Akai has questions, and you try his patience!"
Mattrim’s smile brightens, and he leaps nimbly to his feet and strides in your direction, strumming on his instrument and skipping at every other step.
The young troubadour waltzes gaily up to the table and bows low, his ragged mop of hair flopping into his face.
"Heroes of the hour!" he salutes, "How may this humble player be of service? A lay in praise of your deeds perhaps? Hmm....hmmm....When troll and stirge did rise from deep / five friends into the fray did leap / and flesh did fry, though low did lie / brave Volo 'neath the board - hmm...I'll work on it."
Volothamp stamps in time to the impromptu performance, not at all distressed by the mention of his own role - flattered, even.
With an appreciative smile, Falshen shakes his head, "It is not entertainment we seek, but enlightenment, good musician. Have you recently seen or spoken with Floon Blagmaar? Do you have any ideas as to his current whereabouts?"
"Friend Floon? 'Fraid not. I saw him at a dance last tenday, and drank a pottle in passing perhaps...a day or two after that? But not since. Why? Has the good Blagmaar been mislaid?"
Every party member notices that, although he continues to feign a frivolous air, a look of keen interest enters Mattrim's eyes, and his words and bearing project more force and intelligence than you at first gave him credit for.
"Maybe, maybe not," replies Akai, nodding to Geddarm. "Volo here not seen or heard Blagmaar of late - fretting something fierce! But he at least saw him two nights ago - tch! - so you'd know nothing," he mutters the last bit in disappointment. He spends a moment in thought, then tries a new angle. "But we hear that Blagmaar had words with one called 'Renaer Neverember!' You seen that one of late? Know of his bond with Blagmaar? They friends? Rivals? Enemies?"
“Young Lord Neverember?” Mattrim laughs lightly, tossing his head, but his eyes stay fixed on the companions. “You must imagine that I move in quite exalted circles! I am but a minstrel of very modest talents, and even more modest means. You’ll have to go to others for the intimate news about Master Renaer’s movements.”
He purses his lips and plucks out a quick jig.
“Though yes,” he says, “I suppose I have seen the two of them out on the town on occasion. Two peas in a pod, they say - though only to look at. Floon’s an adornment...and little else, it must be admitted.”
Volothamp nods at this, spreading his hands in helpless agreement.
“But Renaer’s another matter,” continues Threestrings. “Ability, and wealth, and brains, and connections - plenty of all, for good and for ill. Floon - enemies? He’s the most inoffensive creature alive. But Renaer Neverember...has more enemies than I dare guess…” his voice trails off into a tone of genuine concern for a moment - and then he laughs again, and moves to brush by the party. “But the hour grows late, good sirs, and I have an artistic engagement elsewhere. But never fear! You are due a song in praise of your deeds! By next tenday it will be sung on every street corner - hark for it!"
The evening crowd, a gaggle of whom had remained standing by the entrance to watch the fight, now begin to return. Meloon salutes the party wordlessly and returns to his spot by the door, and Durnan congratulates them on their courage and offers them all a free tenday of food and lodging, should they so desire.
"Marvelous!" exclaims Volo, straightening his collar and patting down his trousers. "Stupendous! What daring! What skill! I feel that poor Floon is rescued already. Dear sirs, my very best wishes."
And he calls to Bonnie to order a platter of cheese pie and mincemeat.
Falshen offers his thanks to Durnan for the draught before retrieving his dagger and regaining his feet. "Well, that troll certainly packs a wallop." Rubbing his jaw with one hand, the young man glances about the room. "I take it from the gore and lack of a body that someone... er, convinced... the beast to return from whence it came?" Turning toward his new companions, he adds, "Did everyone survive?"
"Krrr! Yes, no thanks to you!" Akai squawks. "You two fell - embarrassing! - so Akai took control! Slew two enemies on his own! Bar-man and door-guard helped drive off last one." Ignoring Durnan and Meloon's reactions to his devaluation of their contribution, he continues, "Even blue one made a kill! Bad account of yourselves this fight - you have plans to make up for it?"
Without bothering to respond to the Kobold, Falshen turns to Irma, "It seems the stories I've heard about the bravery of Paladins were more than just hyperbole - it will be a pleasure to work with one who does not shy from the hard battles when surrounded by easier ones." Taking in the rest of the party, he continues, "What now, my companions in battle? Shall we seek answers at the Skewered Dragon, Neverember house, or elsewhere?"
Ian, looking at his arm, looking at the gore of the scene and on himself casts Prestidigitation and cleans himself up.
“Well, regardless of where we go, I think a rest is in order. I doubt Volo would be opposed to such after witnessing nearly half our party go down in battle. Personally, I need a recharge before we get into any more trouble.”
Gregor goes back over to the table and picks his hat up from the back of the chair, "Why not kill two birds with one stone? I can head over to the Skewered Dragon now, while those who need rest get some, and spend the night there after getting some information. We can meet up there in the morning, unless anyone has objections."
Shaking his head Irma clears himself of the full headache. “My eyes were bigger than my stomach that time for that fight, heh heh. Thanks for the potion barkeep.” “I do concur with the good bard on taking a rest, I’ll take a look at that nasty bite.” Irma Gerd casts Lay On Hands on Ian to heal him for 5 health.
Ian: 10 / 10 HP
Irma: Lay on Hands 5 / 5 slots used
Stepping to stand by Gregor, Falshen addresses the party. "While I have no objection to splitting up, perhaps we should not travel alone, given master Geddarm's theory of kidnapping; a lone investigator can be made to vanish much more easily than a duo or whole team. I have no current need for rest and will be happy to accompany Gregor to the Skewered Dragon. We can begin a search for clues there and regroup in the morning. Perhaps those of you who remain here can ask around for possible leads. Master Geddarm, did Floon ever frequent the Yawning Portal? Is there anyone here who might be have information to contribute toward our investigation?"
Volothamp glances about the common room, brushing crumbs from his beard.
"Well, of course Master Blaagmar is a well-known figure throughout every social circle of the city, man-about-town par excellence that he is, but as for a particular acquaintance? Let me see, let me see...ah yes!"
He waves in the direction of the hearth.
"I've known young Threestrings to drink with him on occasion. Perhaps he knows aught?"
The minstrel sits by the fire, tuning his lute and whistling cheerfully.
Akai hisses at Falshen's comments. "Hsss... 'Skewered Dragon?' Horrid name - pfah! You'll not see Akai at such a place! Stay here, keep an eye on hammer-man, lest he fall from a stiff breeze!"
Akai then registers Volo's remarks and addresses "Threestrings" Mereg, "You, lute-singer! Akai and companions have questions for you! You have words with one called 'Floon Blagmaar' of late?" He mutters to himself under his breath, "Huh, Blagmaar... blaaagmar... blllaag...maaarr... keheh! Fun name, that one!"
Startled, the minstrel nearly drops his lute before glancing up, smiling confusedly and gazing vaguely in your direction.
Mattrim is about halfway across the room, and not at a convenient distance for conversation. He may, however, be shouted at.
Annoyed, Akai hops back up on the table and calls out again. "Krrr! Yes, over here, lute-singer! Make your way here, and make it quickly! Akai has questions, and you try his patience!"
Mattrim’s smile brightens, and he leaps nimbly to his feet and strides in your direction, strumming on his instrument and skipping at every other step.
“Hello my good sir, we are in need of your good services.” Irma says in a resounding voice.
The young troubadour waltzes gaily up to the table and bows low, his ragged mop of hair flopping into his face.
"Heroes of the hour!" he salutes, "How may this humble player be of service? A lay in praise of your deeds perhaps? Hmm....hmmm....When troll and stirge did rise from deep / five friends into the fray did leap / and flesh did fry, though low did lie / brave Volo 'neath the board - hmm...I'll work on it."
Volothamp stamps in time to the impromptu performance, not at all distressed by the mention of his own role - flattered, even.
With an appreciative smile, Falshen shakes his head, "It is not entertainment we seek, but enlightenment, good musician. Have you recently seen or spoken with Floon Blagmaar? Do you have any ideas as to his current whereabouts?"
Mattrim shakes his head.
"Friend Floon? 'Fraid not. I saw him at a dance last tenday, and drank a pottle in passing perhaps...a day or two after that? But not since. Why? Has the good Blagmaar been mislaid?"
Every party member notices that, although he continues to feign a frivolous air, a look of keen interest enters Mattrim's eyes, and his words and bearing project more force and intelligence than you at first gave him credit for.
"Maybe, maybe not," replies Akai, nodding to Geddarm. "Volo here not seen or heard Blagmaar of late - fretting something fierce! But he at least saw him two nights ago - tch! - so you'd know nothing," he mutters the last bit in disappointment. He spends a moment in thought, then tries a new angle. "But we hear that Blagmaar had words with one called 'Renaer Neverember!' You seen that one of late? Know of his bond with Blagmaar? They friends? Rivals? Enemies?"
“Young Lord Neverember?” Mattrim laughs lightly, tossing his head, but his eyes stay fixed on the companions. “You must imagine that I move in quite exalted circles! I am but a minstrel of very modest talents, and even more modest means. You’ll have to go to others for the intimate news about Master Renaer’s movements.”
He purses his lips and plucks out a quick jig.
“Though yes,” he says, “I suppose I have seen the two of them out on the town on occasion. Two peas in a pod, they say - though only to look at. Floon’s an adornment...and little else, it must be admitted.”
Volothamp nods at this, spreading his hands in helpless agreement.
“But Renaer’s another matter,” continues Threestrings. “Ability, and wealth, and brains, and connections - plenty of all, for good and for ill. Floon - enemies? He’s the most inoffensive creature alive. But Renaer Neverember...has more enemies than I dare guess…” his voice trails off into a tone of genuine concern for a moment - and then he laughs again, and moves to brush by the party. “But the hour grows late, good sirs, and I have an artistic engagement elsewhere. But never fear! You are due a song in praise of your deeds! By next tenday it will be sung on every street corner - hark for it!"
And with a flourish he steps toward the door.