(OOC: Even though Mindartis has not weighed in yet, it seems we have a majority.  Could everyone please roll a Dex check and two Perception checks, please? Plus, for your awesome role-playing, everyone please take an Inspiration point--you can spend it to re-roll one bad roll--though I wouldn't waste it on these ones.  Off to work, may not be able to respond for a while if it gets busy.)

(( Elwin's checks -

Dexterity: 4
Perception #1: 6
Perception #2: 4

Wow, that's terrible!... ))

Raven's checks:

Dex:  16  (add 2 if it is a dex save.) 

Perception:  9

Perception:  14

Quentin’s checks:

Dexterity: 19

Perception 1: 18

Perception 2: 4

when he gets a chance, Del gives a whisper to Elwin, trying Western Coast urban slang

Dex roll 6

Perception 1 5

Perception 2 5

(OOC: Sorry busy with classes today)

Mindartis just grunts his agreement, clearly thinking about other stuff.

Dex: 12

Perception 1: 12

Perception 2: 10

The five stranded adventurers turn west and begin strolling toward the tavern.  After only a short walk, the road suddenly gives way beneath your feet. While most of the party regains their balance easily, Elwin lands flat on his face in the road. Due to the layer of old leaves covering it, he takes no damage (except to his dignity.)

It looks as if some animal, possibly a badger or fox, tried to tunnel beneath the road here, and the burrow collapsed after a few horses and carts went over it.  This must be the terrible bump the coach hit.

Off to the side of the road is a small mound of dirt that the animal kicked out of the hole as it dug.  Lord Quentin notices a faint gleam of something metallic in the pile.

“Please do try and be more careful Mister Cold.” Quentin replies as he watches the half elf fall flat on his face before being distracted by the shine of something metallic. By no means wanting to dirty his hands Quentin pulls out his wand again using it summon a spectral hand. Carefully he sends the spectral hand to retrieve the piece of metal that has caught his eye.

OOC: Using Mage Hand to retrieve item.

A ghostly hand appears and pulls something out of the dirt pile, floating over to Quentin.  It's a metal flask.  The parts that aren't caked in mud or black with tarnish seem to be covered with intricate etching.  You can hear something sloshing inside it as the floating hand comes to a halt before you.

"What is that?"  Raven asks, glancing over to the flask being carried by a ghostly hand.  Moving over to the spot where the flask came from, she tries to see if there is anything else less obvious there.

Perception:  24

(Let me know if you would rather we roll right off, or if you would rather wait for us to roll when you tell us what you are looking for...)

(I'm afraid Raven finds nothing but rocks left in the pile. Sorry!  And, yeah, if you want to do something you think will need a roll, it's fine to make a roll ahead of being asked, it saves time, and you lose nothing except being disappointed when a really good roll turns out to be unnecessary.)

“It’s obviously a flask with some etching on it.” Quentin answers as he uses Prestidigitation to clean the flash of mud, dirt, and tar. Taking a closer look at the design once it’s clean. 

Investigation: 11

It takes a few castings to get it fully clean and polished, but under the crud, you find an elegant silver flask, beautifully etched with abstract designs. Perhaps some noble traveler dropped it carelessly in the mud in bygone days.

Elwin hurriedly stood to his feet, brushing himself off as he did so. He reddened a bit at his stumble, especially considering it had prompted a cheeky response from the noble. However, the "Mister" hadn't gone unnoticed... so the warlock held his tongue.

He looked at the flask as Quentin cleaned it, noticing it's intricate crafting. Raising an eyebrow, he watched the high elf with open curiosity--and a hint of amusement?--to see what he'd do with it now that it was cleaned up.

“Well I don’t really have need for a flask. Though it looks like it might be a little old. If any of you want it feel free to take it. Otherwise, I believe we best continue forward. This time let’s not try and trip.” Quentin says aloud, not noticing anything particular about it and handing it off to the first of the group who wants it. 

 After Quentin passes on the flask to the first person to ask for it, the adventurers continue walking down the road and past the crossroads. It may be a beautiful day for a walk, but you are getting quite hungry by the time the tavern comes into view.

As you approach, the first thing you notice is a large plaque mounted by the road.  It says (in Common, Elvish, Gnome and Sylvan) 'Historical Landmark: The Monkey Shines Tavern was built immediately after the Defeat of the Tyrant Grimmerang, by Myriil Naica, Hero, Co-Founder of the Kingdom of Lomalos, and Progenitor of the Naica Dynasty. Please join us in raising a Glass to her Memory.'

The tavern itself looks welcoming, if a bit run down. (After 3000 years in business, not too surprising.) A cauldron-shaped sign hangs over the door, depicting a monkey, viewed from the rear, swinging a lantern.

There is a stable behind the tavern.  An enclosed passageway connects the tavern to a large but unremarkable manor house. The buildings are surrounded by grape arbors, just beginning to show new spring leaves. 

It will probably be a charming view in a month or so, but at the moment the tiny leaves do little to conceal the ungainly tangle of brown vines, or the three angry-looking satyrs lurking behind them, clubs clenched in their fists.  They are clearly visible to everyone...except Elwin. (Who had terrible dice rolls! XD ) The satyrs are watching the tavern door, and the road....and you.

Somewhat surprised, Elwin hesitated a moment. Then he finally reached out and accepted the flask from Quentin, smiling. "Gratit," he said, speaking a relatively well-known Undercommon term of gratitude. As he tucked the ornate container away into his backpack, he glanced back at Del and gave a quick wink and a shrug, mouthing a Western Coast urban slang phrase of his own.

(ooc also, hope it is ok to back-fill RP info that would have passed if it doesn't mess with current events)

Early in the walk, Del would have shared Since we seem to be traveling together, best to know some things about each other. I think I'm the only of us that can heal? If so, and if it comes to the aforementioned gnolls or whatnot, I might be a ways from the front, as it were. I can melee, but I don't own a sword at the moment anyways. I can launch arrows (indicating a longbow of elvish make) or damaging insults from away, or other spells, and be ready to help those in need. Speaking of help, let me know if you're about to attempt anything - a word or two can bend your luck.

Del plays as we walk, watching the others to try and get the right mood and quieting if folk seem bothered, but it makes the walk go quicker.

On seeing the satyrs he asks Brother Mindartis, those gentlefolk seem out of place? Curious that there are no other people out and about. Sister Raven, this place known for satyr guards?

"Can't say as to if those are normal for here or not."  Raven speaks up as she spots the lurking figures and is asked about them.

"Hey you, are you guarding the door or waiting for something?" She calls out to the figures in Sylvan.

The satyrs jump in surprise at being addressed.

One of them yells (in Sylvan, which some of you understand) "They'll do.  What are you waiting for?  GET "EM, BOYS!"

The satyrs charge out at you, roaring fiercely and waving their clubs.

Roll for initiative!