Iron Crisis (IC)

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 14 HP: 25/25 PP: 15 PIv: 10 PIs: 15 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Healing Spirit Caelyn only watches Silke's body for a few moments, seeming mesmerized by the work her fire has done. Though Vyvian's blades definitely helped, she bears the responsibility of adding fire to Melian's grease spell. And despite her earlier words to Sam, some dark part of her enjoyed the results. Silke had hurt her. Not badly, mind you, but the pain and surprise from the mephit's attack has elicited a knee-jerk reaction to hit her with her most powerful spell. And it had set her aflame. It isn't until Melian gets her attention that Caelee snaps out of it. Oh... sorry... She speaks a few words in Druidic and summons her flaming spirit rabbit to heal anyone who needs it. The healing is particularly searing tonight, leaving angry red sunburn-like marks on those who accept it. She saves herself for last, now that she realizes the minor nature of her wound. Having completely missed Senna's scolding in her fascination with the flames, she sits down on the side of the street and wraps her arms around herself, rocking slightly and trying to banish the echoing words of her nightmare from her head. “Power.”“Take my power.”“Become my vessel.”. No... I don't want that power... but deny all she wanted, power felt GOOD. It felt RIGHT. She felt stronger than she'd ever been, and the ability to stop someone from hurting her family and herself made her feel vindicated, despite how she WANTED to feel. Can we go to a tavern now? I need a drink... She asks no one in particular.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Popping healing spirit. It should be enough to heal everyone to full, but let me roll it just in case. Rolling it in the Discord server so we can see all the dice individually.

[Ramsus]

Vyvian Just Half-Elf Rogue AC: 14 HP: 24/24 PP: 13 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 Conditions: -- "Thank you." Vyvian says as she gets helped up and also gives an appreciative nod to Caelyn when the healing happens. Then she says, "Not really though. She was tied up or knocked over the whole time." she has a mild frown, and then moves on to the next subject as she doesn't want to dwell on that. "Really!? Do I need to... do anything? Nothing too weird I hope."

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 24/24 | AC: 13 HP: 6/10 PP: 9|14 PIv: 14|10 PIs: 10|13 Conditions: -- | -- Head still swimming a little with nausea, Sam wipes the bile from his face with a bit of cloth and stands up shakily. Everything sounds distant and far, like echoes in a huge cave. That woman was a vile piece of work. Did she deserve to die? Surely she wasn't born like that? What could have molded her that way? Questions and justifications flutter in and out of his thoughts. Closing his eyes, Sam walks with his hand against the wall past the scene and into the door of the tavern, seeking somewhere else. Walls between him and the sight and the smell, until the guards arrived to clean it up. Somehow his armor and scales are marred with little more than some steam condensation, bearing no blood or gore from the fight - if it could even be called a fight. It had been more like a massacre. Grepha remains perched on the eave of the roof as her 'master' goes inside, looking down at the assembly of youth below. The healing spirit frolics around, and she grudgingly descends to land on Caelyn's shoulder. The raven has a few gouges across its chest. She waits expectantly to be healed.

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 14 HP: 25/25 PP: 15 PIv: 10 PIs: 15 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Caelee sighs when the bird lands on her shoulder, reaching down to scoop up her healing rabbit and hefting it high enough to touch Grepha, wiping away her wounds as well. Now begone, fiend. I don't need your company right now. Caelyn watches Sam head into the tavern with longing, but resolves herself that she must stay to explain herself to the guards before heading in for more sweet wine. To that end... Vyvian, can I have some silver? Not much. Just enough for a few drinks after we resolve this?

[Ramsus]

Vyvian Just Half-Elf Rogue AC: 14 HP: 24/24 PP: 13 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 Conditions: -- "We've left the nest for less than a week and you're already an alcoholic. Sure, knock yourself out. Though you might want to wait for the guards so we don't wind up having to explain how more than one of us thought it was a not at all suspicious thing to do." Vyvian replies and just hands Caelyn ten gold coins, figuring eventually hangovers would teach Caelyn the lesson that needed to be learned here without anyone needing to intervene.

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 14 HP: 25/25 PP: 15 PIv: 10 PIs: 15 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Caelee takes the gold before uttering protest. "I'm NOT an alcoholic. It's just... fun. Fun to drink, and dance, and sing. Can you really blame me for wanting to cut loose after something like this?" She gestures at the grisly scene before them. "But I will stay. No one should have to explain the... burns... but me." Then she sits back down to wait, taking out her small knife and beginning to carve her staff to keep her nerves down.

[Amnestic]

Garrick was, surprisingly, true to his word. He returns with two guards in tow who seem extremely annoyed at having to do their jobs and deal with this whole situation. They take statements but once it becomes clear that you're all basically saying the same thing they consider it an open-and-shut situation. They drape a large cloth over the remnants of the body to cover it up from and advise they'll wait for the undertaker to show up for the removal and that the party, Garrick and the 'thugs' - or, well, couriers, you suppose? - are free to go.

Those entering the inn find that it is entirely undisturbed by the commotion outside. A few near the doors seem to have seen it take place and noted it, but do not seem to have cared beyond rubbernecking. Once it became clear that it wouldn't spill into the inn it became little more than a mildly interesting show to them. There's a few free tables and getting drinks from the bartender (a smiling halfling) poses no problems. Looking around the bar gives a different feel to the Friendly Arm - this one's filled with locals, not travelers. It's loud still, but you can feel the clique-y aspects of the tables, as opposed to the free flowing movement and conversations between the entire room that was there before. It makes you feel a little out of place, truth be told, but no one gives you any bother. Calling the drinks on offer 'good' would be charitable. There's a bit too much water, not enough booze, but it seems to work for the locals (and the bar owner) so it's unlikely any changes are imminent.

Before Melian can move anywhere, a voice behind her speaks. "Excuse me, miss. May I have a moment of your time?" You didn't see or hear him approach, but turn to face a man barely a stride away. He's not in your 'personal space' per se but he is far closer than you would like to suddenly be there. A human, by his looks. Probably in his mid-30s. He's got a light salt-and-pepper beard and neatly matching hair that for a moment reminds you of Gorion's, but his face has none of the agelines. His eyes though...they're weighed by many, many years. If they were dulled at all by age though, they don't show it. His gaze is sharp, but without any accusation or disdain. He's assessing you with every moment. His clothes are clearly foreign, heralding far beyond the sword coast with wide sleeves and what looks to be a floor length skirt. Definitely not usual dress for a man in this part of the world. At his waist is a long sword with a curved blade. If he has an accent, it's imperceptible. The expression on his face likewise is difficult to discern any intentions from. It's neutral, but not apathetic. "I promise it won't take long."

It's not hard to find a secluded spot on a small hillock overlooking a few buildings. Settled in against a tree, Senna's investigations bear fruit. It becomes clear quickly that while the draconic holds the factual retelling of its matching primordial page, some of the nuance from the author's notes are missing. One such missing note includes a shortcut/bypass for the intended ritual, one that could cut down on casting time and raw materials required. It won't make it instant (or free), granted, but it's an improvement over the what the original draconic was indicating.

Spoiler: Melian

Show

Gimme a History check if you want more details on his origins.

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 24/24 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 9|14 PIv: 14|10 PIs: 10|13 Conditions: -- | -- Grepha closes her eyes as the healing spirit passes through, the feeling of blistering heat so unpleasant for the others quite relaxing for her. "And here I was starting to like you, firebug." She scoffs at the elf girl's attitude and flaps back up to the rooftop. Once the guards are dealt with and Caelyn joins him inside, Sam waves her over to the bar. Despite his getting sick outside, he has a smile on that looks somewhat forced. In front of him is a glass of cheap wine - the taste of ale does nothing for him, and at least this is a little more familiar. The kind of thing the scholars and nobles of the keep preferred. "Hey, Cae. You alright?"

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 14 HP: 25/25 PP: 15 PIv: 10 PIs: 15 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Having answered the few questions of the guards, Caelee enters the tavern, but almost immediately she is disappointed. This place didn't have the exotic people of the Friendly Arm Inn, nor any of the merriment. Here she didn't feel included and welcomed, but quietly left out by the regular townsfolk who were having their drinks in small groups. She frowned, but made her way over to Sam nonetheless. At least someone was happy to see her. One more of those, please. Caelyn gestured towards Sam's glass as she got the bartender's attention. After it had been poured she tipped it back and drank deeply before setting it down in a hurry and screwing up her face. Sour and watery... nothing like the Friendly Arm Inn... She raised the glass and took an experimental sip, then shrugged. I don't know, Sam. On the one hand I feel bad that I... I mean we... killed that woman. She seemed... crazy. But if she was, was it really her own fault that she acted the way she did? On the other hand... I feel like my family was threatened and with my magic I ended that threat. And that feels good. None of us were seriously hurt, and those that were I healed quickly and easily. She tipped back her wine again, drinking it down to the dregs, and set the glass down on the bar before tapping it loudly with two fingers, just as she'd seen others do at Candlekeep. And just like that, her glass was full again. I feel... conflicted. I want to be strong. To be powerful. To be able to stop bad people. But my spells are... incredibly violent. But I can't... no. I REFUSE to apologize for that. In nature, destruction and renewal walk hand in hand. I'm just afraid I'm losing myself to the power instead of being balanced. She drinks again, then turns to her brother with red cheeks and a weak smile. It's a lot easier when you're killing monsters than when you're killing people. But I refuse to hold back when doing so could get one of you killed. So... I guess I AM a killer... She shrugs and sips her wine again. And in the heat of the moment... without time for guilt or restraint... I enjoy it. I enjoy using my power, despite the consequences. Another drink, deeper this time. I've murdered someone before I've lost my virginity. I'm becoming a bad person. And the worst part is the more we fight, the more I'm getting used to the smell of burning. To the consequences. To the death. She drains her glass, releasing a gasp as the sour wine stung her mouth, but sets the glass down and taps the bar again, showing no signs of slowing down.

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 24/24 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 9|14 PIv: 14|10 PIs: 10|13 Conditions: -- | -- "Hey, it grows on you," Sam says, giving the bartender an apologetic wink for Caelyn's sour review. He leans in to whisper to her, "Helps that I like sour food." He takes a sip from his own glass, face scrunching up at the sour flavor. He remains quiet through the first part of her venting, listening and nursing his glass. Only when she pauses to drown her sorrows does he reply, "She was responsible for the way she acted. Maybe it didn't have to end with her death. But she chose to hurt others for selfish reasons. Whatever led her here didn't make that less wrong." Her words, pouring from a teary-eyed face between glasses of wine, tug at Sam's heart. He sees flashes in his mind of the burning goblins, of shouting at Caelyn. Trying to find the words to comfort her and guide her on the right path, he turns to the scriptures of Bahamut, turning them over in his mind's eye. "There are two kinds of criminals," Sam says, staring into his half-empty second glass of watered down village wine. "The ones who can find the right thing if you help them," his thoughts flash to the two bandits. The rebel daughter and the runaway maid. He hopes they're that kind. "And the ones who never will." Silke's self-important gaze comes to mind. Everyone was beneath her. A tool towards what she wanted. "Some heroes are the flame that fights monsters. Others try to reach in and pull forth the person inside the monster," he says, before downing the last of his glass. He sets down the glass and pushes it away with a sigh. "We can't stop trying to do the right thing just because we can't always do the right thing by everyone." He reaches over and places an arm around Caelyn's shoulders. His hand gently lowers hers' as she tries to signal for another drink. "I guess, in a way you'd get; remember to know when it's time for the flame, and when you can still save the plant by pruning it, hey?"

[ProudGrognard]

Aintas

Aintas is also ready for some food and drink. The inn would not be his first choice - surely there are better establishments in such a city- but he manages to wash up and order some beer.

He watches with some apprehension as his brothers and sisters seem to wallow in self- recrimination, as he did some days ago. Taking a sweep off his beer, he wades into the conversation

"All these soul-ringing and hand-waving is a bit pointless. Noone wants to murder people, burn them or hack them. But in the end, it seems we often do not have a choice. What should we have done? Let that crazy woman blast us to bits? Or let the ankhegs eat us?

I think is that part of the problem is that your talents are ...varied. They can do many things, heal, mend , find. I only know one thing, how to stick a sharp metal instrument into someone's gut. I try not to do it needlessly. But so far, I have been attacked three times without no provocation. The only time I started a fight is with the hobgoblins, and these were marauders.

Having a conscience is good. But I tell you truly, brothers and sisters, every time that someone will try to hurt us, I will hurt the bastard back. And I will NOT lose any sleep on it. There is a saying in my line of work: Live by the sword, die by the sword. And I don't think it really makes a difference to the killed if they die by the blade or by a spell. So, if someone objects to having us in his face, then he or she should be as polite, and as conscientious, as we are. Crazy ladies with otherwordly pets, beasts burrowing up and hobgoblin marauders need to learn this lesson".

His two bits of wisdom offered, Aintas takes another drink and orders some food.

[Ramsus]

Vyvian Just Half-Elf Rogue AC: 14 HP: 24/24 PP: 13 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 Conditions: -- Vyvian slings an arm around Aintas after his speech and says, "Thank you, Aintas! Please repeat that to Senna when she returns from her religious brooding or whatever she's up to would you?" Then after a pause she looks over to Caelyn and says, "As for that other..... issue bothering you. That Garrick boy was rather cute. I'm sure you'd have no trouble chasing him down and pointing out he owes you one." and gives a wink.

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 16 HP: 21/21 PP: 15 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Conditions: - Concentration: - Surprisingly quickly done, Senna inevitably goes back to think. Why did they act this way? Why did she act this way? Mulling things over from their first fight against the murderers of Gorion, until over today's encounter. We strike them with all our might, because we fear loosing another one of our loved ones. And Vyv is scared to die. She has no armor training nor magic to bolster her defenses like the rest of us. Caelyn is a druid by all accounts but she never had any divine guidance. Every way she looked at the problem, Senna was sure her lack of moral and magical support was the cause. Her aggressive choices caused the whole group to go in that direction. Tactically very smart, but with no regard for human or goblinoid life. Today she made a person kneel down in indignity, to be slaughtered like a lamb. No, Deneir did not give her these powers to slaughter and kill, but to defend herself, to bring knowledge and light into the dark. Certainly people who try to kill them were not worthy of mercy. Again, Senna felt sorry. She was trembling. Glyph felt the fear and snuggled ever closer. She would need to calm down before returning. Spoiler: A bit later, presumably at the inn Show Senna returns to her siblings, silently going towards Vyvian and Caelyn. Do you have a minute, you two? He takes them away from the others. I am sorry because of before. I accused you, but you were only defending yourselves. This woman tried to kill you, and I judged you. He pauses, and you know Senna; she tries to formulate her thoughts perfectly: Deneir is the god of knowledge and learning, not of war and killing. But I have used my magic for just that, too. But I will go forth and invoke His might to protect us, for advantages that make it possible for us to win while opening decisions to stay merciful. Senna opens her arms for a hug. Do you two accept my apology?

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 24/24 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 9|14 PIv: 14|10 PIs: 10|13 Conditions: -- | -- Sam rubs the back of his head, and can't help but feel his message has been somewhat undermined. "I mean, you could hit them with the flat of the blade when you don't want to kill them, right?" He suggests, pointing at Aintas' Glaive. "We can't just go around fighting everyone we face to the death, brother. What if there's a misunderstanding, like if those 'thugs' before hadn't had a chance to talk to us? Or what if we need to ask someone questions, like that Scrambles guy?" Everyone's gung-ho attitude towards killing anyone who crosses them is starting to worry him. Is it so easy to be pulled into darkness?

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 14 HP: 25/25 PP: 15 PIv: 10 PIs: 15 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Caelee sits and listens to Aintas' opinion on the matter, which comes close to her own resolutions. She nods at certain points, particularly his sentiment on the ankhegs. There is no room for mercy in her heart for abominations. When Vyv chimes in Caelee realizes her younger sister isn't present, which elicits a small shadow of sadness over her heart. Senna's words return to her and her guilt twinges deep inside. Then at Vyvian's mention of Garrick she laughs out loud. I'm not in any hurry for that, Vyv. I'll wait till I find the right person. Or until we stop at a tavern with some class and my whole family isn't lingering around me. She raises her empty glass to her lips, tips it back, then looks at it in confused disappointment. That's when Senna returns and pulls Caelee and Vyv aside. After pounding two glasses of wine the elf's cheeks are red and she has a little trouble focusing on Senna's apology, but at the end she smiles and hugs her little sister deeply. It's ok, Sen. There's nothing to forgive. You can't really be blamed for your immediate reaction to anyone's violent death. Truth be told, I want to feel worse about it than I do. But maybe that's the bad wine talking. Caelee releases a sudden and rumbling burp, followed by a small giggle. Drank too fast I think. Maybe Sam is right- I should slow down. I just wish we weren't at the most boring tavern in the world. Then we could have some real fun and throw off any and all melancholy. I want to sing and dance, dammit! Caelee returns to the bar, this time ordering water and hoping it would be better than the wine. She would order more sour wine that night, but not until she'd nursed a few glasses of water and eaten some bread and cheese. While she sips at the water, one hand snakes out and gives Sam's hand a squeeze, her eyes briefly meeting his with earnest affection. No matter what she did, no matter how bad she felt, her little brother knew how to make her feel at least a little bit better.

[Ramsus]

Vyvian Just Half-Elf Rogue AC: 14 HP: 24/24 PP: 13 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 Conditions: -- Vyvian very clearly did not want to get dragged away, but came along. "Uh...yeah." she replies a bit noncommittally. In truth she was still pretty annoyed about it, but Caelyn was clearly in a more forgiving mood (maybe because she hadn't been in pain and unable to stand up at the time) and so she didn't want to come off as being unreasonable. Senna did apologize first thing when she came back afterall and fighting about it wouldn't do them any good anyway. So she just covered for her lack of words by accepting the hug, because who was she to refuse a hug?

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 16 HP: 21/21 PP: 15 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Conditions: - Concentration: - I know this will not be all I do to excuse myself, Vyv, Caelyn. I found a way to call you a special familiar, but it requires a few things we don't necessarily have. Senna looks at the table, then towards the waiter. Maybe we can ask the barkeep for some food. I am kinda starving. Senna goes over to order some food. It looks like a simple tavern but it must have SOME form of food. These are halflings.

[cigaw]

Melian Galanodel Eladrin Bladesinger AC: 13 HP: 20/20 PP: 13 PIv: 15 PIs: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- "Well, some more translating is required right now but I don't foresee it requiring anything terribly strange from you. At least nothing stranger than the usual for summoning, shaping and binding raw eldritch from the elemental planes themselves," Melian answers Vyvian in mock seriousness, using a voice akin to Tethtoril's when he lectured about prophecies back in Candlekeep. --- Walking into the tavern, Melian falls behind the group, letting them go ahead while she takes in her surroundings. The strange voice from behind startles her, sending a slight shiver down the back of her neck. Trying to not show discomfort, Melian turns to face the stranger and takes in his unusual mode of dress. "If it's but a moment, then of course you may. There are open tables nearby and there must be an interesting story behind your wearing of what seems like Kara-Tur samurai garb." While she does her best to display a nonchalant demeanor, the threat of ambush is still too real. Melian summons Fëanáro and sends him near her siblings, telepathically instructing it to call them to her aid if needed.

[Ramsus]

Vyvian Just Half-Elf Rogue AC: 14 HP: 24/24 PP: 13 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 Conditions: -- Vyvian looks excited when she hears " found a way to call you a special familiar", which immediately becomes disappointment when she hears the rest, and then a lack of understanding when Melian adds more to it. Vyvian spots Melian going off with some person they don't know alone and after a moment sneaks off to keep an eye on the situation since they'd already had one attempt on their life in this town. Spoiler Show Stealth: (1d20+5)[25] Perception if needed: (1d20+3)[20]

[Amnestic]

"An interesting story?" The man chuckles amiably as he leads you to a table and takes a seat. "Well, maybe. I'll tell you about it sometime. Much too long for one evening." He's got an air of non-committal that says he's not particularly invested either way. He might not even believe there will be a 'sometime'. "No, today I'd rather talk about you. You didn't get to do much back there," he gestures to outside the bar, and you notice his hands are covered in scars, a criss-cross of cuts that seem to cover more of the surface than the untouched skin. None on his face though, "but I recognised that casting form. You don't see many of those around these days." He seems to have passed the idle small talk stage of the conversation - cutting direct to the meat of what he wants. He doesn't seem to spot Vyvian lurking nearby - if he does, he gives no indication as to caring either way. "Who taught you?"

The bar does provide food, though it's a meager affair to be sure - little more than bread with some soup (vegetable) or stew (beef). The proprietor seems almost taken aback at the request. They definitely don't get many travelers here, and it's rare that a local would want food here rather than just eating at home. They're clearly more fond of their liquid bread than solid. Still, they provide what they've got, for a small charge. It's filling enough, but a bit bland. Garrick lingers nearby, though for what you can't tell. He looks a little bit lost, and anyone casting their eyes at him could easily judge he's more of a follower than one who makes decisions for himself. In that regard, he was probably perfect for Silke.

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 16 HP: 21/21 PP: 15 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Conditions: - Concentration: - With her food finished, Senna excuses herself: I will be over there if you need me. With a tone that asks for distance again, she adds. But I am sure if no one is killed or dying, you don't need me right now. Senna orders two drinks, approaches Garrick's table and sits in front of him. May I offer you something tonight? she says in the caring voice of an infirmary nurse, giving him the cup of whatever they serve here. I saw you with the others today where the woman attacked us. I figured you're with her hirelings but you're far to pretty for that. Noticing what she said, Senna immediately blushes in a bright red. Uh...uh...I mean if you want to talk in private we can go get a room... Realizing her only running headfirst into the next fauxpas makes her hide her red face in her hands.

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 24/24 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 9|14 PIv: 14|10 PIs: 10|13 Conditions: -- | -- Remaining at the bar, Sam takes up a bowl of vegetable soup. It's little more than a basic broth with some garden variety bits and pieces thrown in. Still, it reminds him of picking and eating fresh food from the community garden back at the keep. As Caelyn returns to the bar, Sam squeezes her hand back. "What do you think Imoen is up to back home?" Meanwhile, Grepha has found herself left outside. With the door and windows closed she would have to go into imp form to get back inside. Scarcely a problem when she can turn invisible. But there was at least one incident of rare magic items passing through this backwater... With a nose for opportunity, the raven vanishes against the night sky, going invisible, and takes to the low air above the street. She patrols the town, watching for the sorts of things that go on at night. Illicit deals, shady individuals.

[cigaw]

Melian Galanodel Eladrin Bladesinger AC: 13 HP: 20/20 PP: 13 PIv: 15 PIs: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- Melian's eyes narrow as the man implies recognition of her fighting form. "If you recognize it then you know it isn't something taught to those who are not of the Tel-quessir. Better questions are who are you and how do you know of it?" Spoiler: OOC Show Trying to get a read on this guy or anything that may hint as to his past. • Insight: (1d20+1)[20] • Investigation: (1d20+5)[15]

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 14 HP: 25/25 PP: 15 PIv: 10 PIs: 15 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Sobriety Imoen? Certainly trouble of some sort. Gods, she was so much fun to hang out with. Always laughing. Always had something entertaining to do. If our family already wasn't so large, I think I would have asked her to come with us. Plus Gorion didn't really give us a chance to... well... I'm sure he knew best. I imagine without us there she might be feeling lonely, actually. Caelyn orders some soup as well, disappointed that there is no cheese. Her disappointment only grows when the soup turns out to be distinctly mediocre. Do... do you miss her? Caelee felt a sudden, irrational possessive instinct that surprised her. She'd never been concerned about Sam feeling close towards someone else in the past. She chalked it up to just being protective of her younger brother for now, but couldn't quite dispel the emotion. I'm sure that eventually we'll cross paths again. Who knows? Maybe once we've vanquished whoever is after us, we can return to Candlekeep again and visit everyone there. She finishes her soup and bread quickly, not relishing the food at all. Part of her suspected that she could walk a mile out of town and find something more satisfying and better tasting. But she didn't voice this- Sam had covered for her snide comments with the bartender enough already. I'd like another glass of wine before bed. And I suppose I will be going to bed early this evening, since this town presents nothing better to do than drink or sleep. Unless... you'd like to look for another tavern that is a little more... inclusive. She turns to Sam and puts on an exaggerated pout, batting her eyelashes. Mother, may I?

[Amnestic]

"A name's just something other people call you. You'll probably end up with a few dozen names yourself, before long. You can call me Kou though." He taps the dawning sun on his chest. "It's what people called me when this was important. As for knowing the art, it's not something you forget even at my age. Fought with some, fought against some. So when I come across someone practicing I can't help but be a little interested. Especially one so young and so..." he gives a glance over to your siblings table his gaze sliding past Vyvian without pause or acknowledgement, "separate, from the rest of the Tel-quessir." He shifts languages flawlessly, there's no problem with his pronunciation or cadence.

Garrick takes the drink with a flash of his pearly white smile. "Oh, thank you." He looks down at it and takes a sip, before pulling a face that says it's a little bit strong for his delicate sensibilities. It is very much not a strong drink. "I'm sorry miss, I don't think I caught your name. What would you like to speak about in private? I'd be happy for the company though." He seems, quite earnestly, to have missed the implication entirely. You can't tell if he's oblivious or aggressively innocent in that regard.

Spoiler: Grepha

Show

Being a small town, Beregost's streets tend towards the empty. They lack the nightlife you'd see in a big city. Still, a few things stick out to Grepha as she makes her flight overhead.
-A small girl, maybe five or six years old, is wandering the streets calling out a name. Most likely she's looking for a lost pet.
-An elderly man in a tattered cloak is dragging a covered wagon behind him. From the smell emanating from the wagon, it's probably the undertaker with Silke's body.
-A drunk man is sat on the steps of his home singing a sea shanty, which is a little strange since you're quite far from the ocean, and even further from any viable port.
-Across town, a dwarf clad head to toe in plate armour stands above a body, drenched in blood.

Spoiler: Melian Insight

Show

He's not being entirely truthful about something, but you can't pin down what. Rather than an outright lie, his mouth has the twinges of someone omitting a truth and dancing around it.It's not hard to tell there's more to him than is immediately obvious though. Appearance wise, aside from being entirely esoteric for this part of the world, nothing stands out. His sword (a katana, obviously) doesn't seem particularly special or ornate from inside its scabbard. His clothes appear of comfortable but not particularly expensive make. They're free of dirt or grime, which could suggest something, or nothing at all.

[cigaw]

Melian Galanodel Eladrin Bladesinger AC: 13 HP: 20/20 PP: 13 PIv: 15 PIs: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- Her head slightly cocked to one side, Melian considers the man's words. While there's something noticeably off about the whole exchange, she can't quite pin down exactly what. Still, two can play at half-truths. "Very well, Kou. You may call me Melian," she says with a small seated bow from the waist; she was pretty sure about reading how this was an appropriate custom in Kara-Tur. "As for your question, you can say I learned it from my parents, through traditions dating back to Evermeet." Taking a sip of wine, she continues. "Admittedly, circumstances changed and I found myself with a new family." Considering the man's garb, she thinks this might strike a chord with him.

[Amnestic]

"Sounds like quite the tale." He sounds interested, rather than dismissive or doubtful, and seems to accept the answer at face value. "Family's important. It's a promise between people - and promises keep the world together." The amiable-yet-flighty masks slips a little, but a moment later it's back. "So, what are you and your family going to do now?" He pauses but then corrects himself. "No, that was poorly phrased, I should be more direct - what are you going to use it for?"

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 24/24 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 9|14 PIv: 14|10 PIs: 10|13 Conditions: -- | -- Finished drinking up the last of his soup bowl's broth, Sam sets it down and leans back, exhaling in satisfaction. It wasn't the best soup, but anything felt great to his empty stomach after he lost his lunch outside. "It's more, hm," Sam considers elaborating more, but maybe that's better saved for when Caelyn is more sober. "She was always Senna's friend more than mine. Maybe just a little worried those guys might go after her too. Something Grepha said, but, we can talk about that later." Finding a tavern with a better attitude sounded good to him, so he gets up and stretches, putting down some coins on the bar to settle up for the glass of wine and the soup. "Sure. ...You still have that extra money Vyv lent you?" Sam glances aside at the other siblings around the bar, feeling a certain itch. The itch to get in on some cards. Spoiler: Grepha Show Gliding over the streets of the city, Grepha passes many a sight by without a second thought. Girl with a lost pet. Were Grepha not otherwise 'employed' at the moment, a potential mark for tempting into trouble. The undertaker; old news. Some salty old sailor too far from the sea? Curious, but not something she could investigate herself. Then she comes across an all too familiar scene. A warrior drenched in blood over the body of a victim - or someone who crossed him, perhaps. And no two copper thug is this mountain mole, dressed full-suited in steel. Curiosity piqued, Grepha lands on a nearby rooftop, on the same side of the warrior was the body he's standing over. Towering, perhaps even looming, if he were anything but a dwarf. She tries to make out just who the losing party of this exchange was.

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 16 HP: 21/21 PP: 15 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Conditions: - Concentration: - Senna closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. I was just going to ask if you are okay, now that...well, my sister killed your girlfriend and all that. Half-glad Garrick did not pick up on her confused advance, she does enjoy the sight of the man. My name is Senna by the by. Cleric of Deneir, who is normally against violence like that. I had a talk with my sister, and she is probably terribly sorry, as am I. If I can help any way, just say the word. Spoiler: If Garrick is not angry at us Show Phew, I am glad you take that so well. You take people at face value, and I admire that. But you might start to question some things, my friend. I realize trust is important but you don't seem as simple as the other men. Use your head in these situations. Senna leans forward. Use...your...mouth. She closes her eyes for a kiss.

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 14 HP: 25/25 PP: 15 PIv: 10 PIs: 15 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Caelee jingles her coin pouch with a wide smile before opening it and putting a few coins on the counter, with only the slimmest of tips. Let's go! There has to be some place in this town where two young people can have some fun! She spares a moment to look at her other family members, wondering whether or not they should invite them. For some reason she felt they'd have a better time if they didn't spread the word. However, this feeling she did shake off. She took a moment to inform Aintas about their plans, promising to meet up in front of the tavern in the morning if they decided to stay somewhere else, and then hurriedly rushing after Sam into the night. When they'd passed through the doors she let out a whoop and jumped into the air before heading out to hunt up some entertainment.