Vaclav looks a bit put out by Claire's seeming need to follow along with his trick. "It's alright, you don't have to as well. It just seems like there are some people who are looking for me and I feel it's best that they don't find me, and us, before we are ready." 

"I don't exactly want anyone to find me here either," Claire says to Vaclav.  "If I bring dishonor to the Beram family they might actually disown me.  I'm already on thin ice as it is, and letting myself get captured on a ship the way I did... let's just say, returning to my home won't be the end of my battle, thanks to this mess.  The less of a name I make for myself, the better," she says resolutely.

After getting set up in the Inn, Nos Heliwr will ask the others what their intentions are.

"As I have said, I bes goin' to look around, go to the Temple, then see Auld Jacque.  Meets you back here roun' sundown." He looks at Vaclav, "Do you really thinks anyone'd know you are in this place?  Change your appearance, wear an eye patch, cover yer mouth wi'd a scarf or som'thin' and bes wary; should bes okay, least 'til the ship docks, but e'en then there bes no thing t' connect us wi'd them.  Remember, wes Broken Chains lookin' t' hire out." He grins, "Tomorrer wes kin goes t' this lordlin' an sees what hes t' offer us fer 'r blades, yes?"

After listening to what the others plan and making sure of the meet up plans, Nos Heliwr will head out on his 'stroll around the neighborhood.'

Vaclav shakes his head. "They likely won't know my face but the wrong person might know the name. Unfortunately my father decided to be unique with my name, there's not too many folks wandering around with the name Vaclav." 

“Use an moniker,” Nos Heliwr says.

Vaclav puts a palm to his face. "Did I not just say to call me Benjamin? Honestly, half the time I swear the world isn't listening." 

"Sorry, I bes distracted, ye nae seen tha' purty wench goin' by?" Nos Heliwr shugs.

(who's on first)

Looking at Claire, Salazar says, "Well, it sounds like your family is just a bunch of class acts, just like mine.  Why do you even want to go back to that?"

"Right, Benjamin.  Good call.  I could use a rest and some new clothes.  I also know that we'll need to offload these gems to pay for our little business venture."

Indignation wells up in Claire's chests.  "Mother and Father are good people!  The Beram family is one of honor, and righteousness, and---"  She cuts herself off and looks around quickly, realizing that this sort of thing is exactly what she should not be doing in a public arena.  Lowering her voice and scowling, she says, "Even if we've had our disagreements over... certain things, my family is still my family!  I couldn't betray them."

You already did, a small voice of conscience reminds her.  Dirty mage.  Claire ducks her head, ashamed. 

"Please... just call me Theresa for now," she finishes more quietly.  "I'm... not very good at subterfuge, so I shall follow your lead," she adds, a bit contritely, still mortified by her outburst.

"I like the fire in you, Pink.  It's good.  You can let that free, you know?  And I know that family can command significant loyalty, even in the face of pain.."

Nos Heliwyr heads off to the temple.  The rest of you settle in to the Fisherman's Rest.  The inn is decorated with nautical paraphernalia.  A whale jawbone sits above the bar.  Sahuagin spikes adorn one wall.  A narwhal horn is suspending mid-ceiling and next to the rest rooms is a large turtle.  The clientele are mostly locals and fisher folk and the place has a salty, tangy smell to it.  The same note that hangs in the Market Square is also present here, hammered into the wall next to the bar.

A serving wench soon approaches and asks what you'd like,  "Welcome to the Rest," she greets you.  "Can I interest you in a round of drinks?  Staying for supper?" she enquires.  "Want rooms and board?"

It is about this time that Ralfi makes his apologies.  He tells you that now he's free and back in his beloved Ibini, his duty and wish is to go and find his family.  He wishes you all well and says he will look out for news of you all in the land.  Before leaving he gives you all one warning about Northern Ibini.

"This land is wild these days.  Three Barons control the northlands and the Queen and her minions have little or no control here.  In fact it has been years since she was here.  Even before my ... brief stay at the luxury of the Guild ... I was aware there was a power struggle growing in these lands.  One could get squashed in the wheels of politics, or one could elevate themselves to greatness through it.  I hope you all find the latter to be true for you.   Farewell and may the kind earth keep you all well."

With that the wildman leaves by the front door of the inn and strides out into the wilderness.

Claire watches Ralfi go with some concern.  "I hope he'll be okay... I guess this is his homelands, after all."  She feels a little uncertain, however, having lost their only real guide to this strange land. 

Following the others to the Fisherman's Rest, she spends some time marveling at the nautical decor -- all still very foreign to her.  Claire has heard stories of the great creatures of the deep, of course.  The whales, bigger than some ships.  Sahuagin, the vicious reverse-sirens of the sea.  And even the giant turtles -- there's one particularly quaint fairy tail that she always enjoyed, of a man stranded on a desert island who had tried to kill an enormous turtle, and then regretted his actions when the creature transformed into a beautiful woman.  That's exactly what those tales had always been, however - fantasies, stories for children, or fertile imaginations.   Seeing actual evidence of their existence on the walls around her has her cowed into silence, as Claire realizes just how deeply into unfamiliar territory she's traversed.

The serving wench fosters some courage with the universal greeting of every tavern anywhere - an offer of drinks, and rooms.  Glancing at the others, Claire nods at the woman slightly.  "I think we'd be interested in arranging some quarters for the evening.  And we're also interested in hearing any local rumors making the rounds," she adds.  "Something to spice the evening meal is always appreciated..."

Vaclav sees Claire's fascination with the sea motif and attempts to copy it, pretending like he's seeing this type of thing for the first time. 

He pops his hood up as the server comes over and follows quietly to the table. While they sit he keeps his head down, avoiding eye contact and simply gesturing to one of the others when asked about an order, trying to make it known that he would have what they're having.

Performance: 20

The serving wench takes your orders and says she'll be back in a few moments.  The bar is not too busy and she is true to her word, returning with a tray full of foaming ales and delicate wines.  The drinks are fair, but nothing to write home about.   In fact that's probably true of the whole inn, in general.

"Here you go," she says, plonking the drinks down at the table and sliding the wrong ones to the wrong people.  Wiping her drink-spilled hands on a dirty apron she puts a hand on her hip and continues, "Now, I am not one to spread gossip," she continues, "but I have heard Brother Conrad down at the Church of Light is getting ready to have Aulde Jacques arrested by the enforcers.  Something to do with witchcraft.  But then the law changed recently, didn't it?  So witchcraft and wizardry is all okay now, I think, isn't it?  Anyway, Janet says that she heard Arnold had seen cow rustlers out in the fields and they had run off with old Bart's prize cow.  Oh and apparently George is sleeping with Berty's new girlfriend but you didn't heard that from me.  So, the usual really."  She stops and thinks for a moment.  "Oh yes, and Varnell is here, of course", she says indicating a shadowy figure in the corner you'd not noticed before.  "That usually means something is up.  I wonder if it's to do with the Delicate Matter that the baron wants sorting.   That's probably something to do with his wife and her bunions, I expect."

Smalltown gossip is about as exactly fascinating as Claire expected it to be, and she smiles politely and vacantly as the woman prattles on, doing her best to imagine she's listening to another boring sermon in the temple.  Her smile falters a little at the mention of witchcraft, but she manages to nod as if she's interested at all the right points in time.  That is, until she finds her head almost automatically turning to Varnell's direction when the woman says the name.  She snaps her attention back towards the serving wench so quickly her neck aches a little.  

Stupid! she thinks to herself, almost hearing Nos's rebuke in her ears even though he's not there to say it.  Still, there's a hollow in the pit of her stomach now.  The Baron's Delicate Matter?  Did that have something to do with the cargo they'd been transporting?

"Sounds... all very fascinating," Claire manages to say with a smile, tactfully pushing her drink towards its actual recipient as she does so.  "But it seems like our best hope for employment here is that notice posted, then," she adds.  "That, or hunting cow thieves.  But I'm sure the local authorities have that matter under control.  So... how much will the room and fare for this evening put us back, anyway?"  She pauses, then awkwardly reaches for a drink - the one she hopes is hers, at least, and takes a small sip.

"Thank you for that, miss.  I appreciate these fine foods as well."  Salazar tries to throw on a little charm.  Funny, it used to be much easier.  That trip really did take a toll on me, it seems.  This used to be how I'd make all my sales, and now, I can barely throw up a facade of politeness.

After the wench leaves, Salazar whispers, "Isn't Nos on his way to meet the gentleman that's to be arrested?"

A clean but not particularly comfortable room overnight, plain food and a few drinks here will cost you each a single gold piece.

"He seems to be," Vaclav agrees. "Maybe once we have our rooms we go give him a warning. Unless someone wants to talk to the man in the corner?" With that he leans back in his chair and closes his eyes, taking another glance through Chernobog, who's currently sitting on the roof.

Chernobog spots a familiar figure returning to the inn from the direction of the docks.  It's Nos Heliwyr, and he's not looking in any way upset or distressed.  As he approaches the inn he flips his hood over his head.