Chapter 1 When angel's fall

[razorback]

Not 100% satisfied with the answer but seeing the others stand down, Tarik relaxes his stance as he stands his spear upright, butt-end in the ground. "Alright." he says as he listens to the others. "When was the last time you saw this handler? Can you describe him or her?"

[RCgothic]

"He's Agimaex. You may have heard of him. And Lady Amara and I breakfasted with him this morning before you all started arriving."

[NiKkatsu]

Oetychus tries to hide his excitedness as he exclaims:

''Oh! So by serving the Empire we are most likely also serving the machinations of an enemy whose motivations remain unknown, who is most likely piloting a sinister plot with mysterious implications that may come falling down on us unexpectedly at any moment? I love it! Truly brilliant! I say, I don't think I could have thought of it better myself. Sign me up! Oh, but... of course, of course: Ogres sounds like a better lead. Let's start there, see where things go after that.''

He seems to trail off into thought after that, takes a seat, pulls out his journal and a quill from his backpack and starts writing, still visibly listening to the conversation around him.

he adds:

''Sorry for the interruption. Carry on with the tedious details. I'm still all ears. I'm actually very skilled at multitasking.''

He goes back to his journal.

[Toliudar]

Hunter Greene

Spoiler: searching with Oetychus

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When the young man makes his attempt to pocket the note, Hunter simply snatches it from his hand and reads it. If he tries again to conceal the note, she will scream for the others to come in, and explain what had happened. If Oetychus wants to play silly b*ggers with important evidence, it was going to make an already strained relationship absolutely impossible.

Hunter carefully gathers up the signet ring, the feather, the holy symbol and the note.

When the filth demon makes itself known, Hunter follows, curious. She stands back, observing the interactions and attempting to assess who at least thinks that they're telling the truth.

"There are traces in the bedrooms that seem to bear out your story of a previous group, My Lady. I assume there was, perhaps a minor nobleman, an elf and - perhaps a necromancer? - among your original group? There's a smell of embalming fluid from that room. Don't worry, I'm sure it'll air quickly enough."

She lays down the signet ring and feather on the table. And then takes another note and sets it down.

"Crystal, can you describe the person who was in that room?", pointing to the third room that she and Oetychus examined.

She stares at the hints that they have discovered.

"My concern with these mementos is that they seem emblematic, but include things that are of only passing significance, and two things that it's hard to believe anyone would leave behind. A signet ring is an intensely personal item, a symbol of rank and privilege. A holy symbol is, similarly, usually of deep and personal importance. And that note. If someone really were some kind of double agent, it would be the very height of stupidity to leave it behind. It seems equally likely to have been planted, perhaps by the poop demon, to sow dissent and throw us onto a false trail."

Spoiler: OOC

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Spot vs Oetychus' sleight of hand, using an IP: (1d20+10)[29]

Knowledge check to have heard of Agimaex (any - they all have the same bonus, using an IP): (1d20+11)[27]

[Jopustopin]

Mission

The moment the stench had filled the main room the large man had gotten himself comfortable and began smoking, lounging about as if not concerned with what was going on. He had remained quiet and simply watched everyone's reactions without adding anything to the conversation. Several times he gave Tarik a look that seem to communicate some type of displeasure with the current ensemble but other than that he just keeps quiet and studies the group's faces as they react to each intrigue.

[Thundercracker]

Amara

"Some of our former group were quite distraught after our encounter in the caves," Amara said, "it was more harrowing for some than others. They may have not been in their right mind when they departed, hence some items left behind. The more personal items are from those we suspected were captured or killed while wandering about; all the more reason for us to stay together as much as possible."

[RCgothic]

And then takes another note and sets it down.

"Crystal, can you describe the person who was in that room?", pointing to the third room that she and Oetychus examined.

"That belonged to an elvish woman named Issarel," Crystal explains. "In Elvish lands she was enslaved by an enchanter. She escaped and by and by ended up here, but he tracked her here and apparently took an interest in me as well. She confided in me. After the mine we were going to see if we could turn the tables on him but then Issarel vanished. We have powerful enemies."

[Toliudar]

Hunter Greene

Hunter nods, absorbing Amara and Crystal's assessment, appreciating their blunt and candid assessment of the situation.

"Thanks. My apologies - I think that I missed the introductions. Just in case, you can call me Hunter Greene. Most recently, I've been a broker in information. I'm also a hobbyist alchemist."

[dantiesilva]

The rest of the night is filled with comrade re as each member of the party shares a story about their past, hoping to build trust among one another as well as learn something about the others you are to be working with. As promised the boar is delicious, though Oetychus swears his tastes funny, served with a side of potatoes and carrots. Freshly baked little breads are also present for the meal. However Agimaex doesn't seem to appear that night while you are all eating. Eventually you all head to your rooms, some of you already having claim from before on rooms, while others argue on who will get what room. In the end the rooms are rather spartan, having only a nightstand, the bed you will be sleeping in, and a desk to write or work on, whichever you prefer.

As the morning sun rises a knocking can be heard from the door leading downstairs. At first it is a gentle knock, however the longer the person on the other side seems to wait the louder the knocking becomes.

[Novabomb]

Marcus Polonius begins his morning by praying to his ancestors for strength and wisdom.
As he stuffs the incense, he begins putting on his armor on to face the day. He hears the knocking but initially disregards it, as it is not his place to interfere. He finishes up donning his armor before he heads downstairs. It does not occur to him that the others might be late risers.

[Toliudar]

Hunter Greene

Hunter's stories that night revolve around the difficulty of purifying naphtha, keeping aphids off of fruit trees, and keeping tabs on the dissolute distant cousins of the Emperor. Since no one seemed particularly interested, she took the various bits and baubles she'd found in the rooms, the better to try to make better sense of them in the future.

Spoiler: Longer Story

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The most unexpected thing about alchemy, for me, is the unexpected ways that it connects you to the rest of the world in unforeseen ways. Maybe unforeseeable ways, although I have friends who would argue that nothing is unforeseeable if you’ve done your homework. But those friends are, as a rule, unbearably boring at parties, and where was I again? Oh yes. Unexpected connections.
One week, I was working on an alchemical solution that you could squeeze through a cork in a wine bottle to help settle the effluent, leaving a beautiful clear bottle of wine.

Say what you will about the destructive power of alchemy, it has the potential to transform all of our lives for the better. In the right hands of course. Now, I’d been at variations of this wine-clearing thing for the better part of a day, and mostly what I had to show for my efforts was one decent bottle of white and a dozen shattered remains and a bunch of gunk in my back garden.

At the end of the day, I cleared away the glass, but made the mistake of not trying to dig or dredge up the spoiled wine. It being a possible fertilizer, you see. So when I got up the next morning, I was startled to see, in the middle of my back yard, a great bloody ankheg, lying upside down and passed out. Turns out it was attracted not to the alcohol, as I’d first assumed, but to the mix of the wine residue and the reagent I was testing. Like catnip for the bloody things, it was.

As I pieced all of this together by examining what the ankheg had actually consumed in the night, it occurred to me that this might be an extremely valuable find. Imagine the important of being able to bring a swarm of ankhegs to you – help aerate the land, obliterate a near-underground mine, or scare children at parties. All these thoughts of gold and usefulness danced in my head for about ten minutes. Then the great bloody ankheg woke up, and I realized that attracting the great bloody beastie was in no way the same thing as channeling the bu**er, let alone controlling it.

Now, a colleague of mine was a powerful scholar of bug kind. Can’t stand em myself, but my friend, Gracchus, he swore up and down that insects were generally very strong for their size, but their necks were notoriously weak. “One sharp tug and that wasp’ll become docile as anything. Two and it’s dead, three and you’re probably holding its bloody head in your hands. Well, my friends, let me tell you that this is a bald-faced lie, at least in the case of ankhegs.

As this one stumbled to its feet, I tried hopping up onto its back and using my feet to push on the plate at the back of its skull with all of my heart. Nothing.

Well, not nothing. “Nothing” wouldn’t include a sudden burst of mad activity, sweeping me along with it as it tried to scrape me off. I got to see my garden in ways no one ever had before – from underneath! Dam thing severed the main roots for a perfectly viable Alder tree, chomped through three potato plants and eventually crashed into my basement, where it upset a rack of alchemist’s fire. I barely rolled free in time to escape immolation myself.

Now, all that I walked away from that week with was a fondness for cloudy wine, a greater respect for farmers, and a beautiful set of slightly singed back plates, ones that get turned into shields and armour and the like. I haven’t discovered a good use for them yet, unfortunately, so they’re still hanging in the basement, helping to cover the hole he made in the basement wall that he crashed through.

Safe in her own room, Hunter ignores the bed and sets up a blanket next to the door. She quietly casts prestidigitation in order to thoroughly clean and prepare her clothes and equipment for the next day, and then spends a couple of hours carefully testing the reagent properties of silver nitrate.

When the knocking begins, Hunter is out her door like a shot, and glancing through the crack between the door to the stairs and the floor to gauge who and what lay beyond. Barring the presence of something stereotypically terrifying, she immediately opens the door.

[Thundercracker]

Amara

Amara tells the group a story from her youth:

Spoiler

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Okay, here’s my story. When I was fourteen years old, my family and I were vacationing in our summer cottage, which we always do at least once a year. We usually go for about a month, to escape the heat and smell of the city. This time, my father hired a half-elf tutor, Eldario, who was supposed to be educating me about the wildlife and various plants that lived around us. Every day the old man had us hiking around for hours through brambles and whatnot in the sweltering heat. Who really cares about which trees could be identified as poisonous by their bark or their leaves anyway? If I wanted food, I’d have one of the maids bring something. Me being a rebellious teenager, and very much wanting to be paddling in a stream or relaxing in the shade, and not identifying mushrooms, decided I’d had enough.

One exceptionally hot day, I simply couldn’t take another minute of Eldario and his rambling, so I started walking in a random direction. He called after me, so I walked faster, and fairly soon I was racing through the trees. I was much younger than him, so it wasn’t hard to lose him despite his half-elven heritage. It became a game of hide and seek, with him cursing at me and me seeing how close I could let him get before I ran off again. Eventually, I guess he stopped chasing, and that was when I realized I wasn’t exactly sure how to get home.

I knew if I kept walking downhill, eventually I would come to water, so I started walking, and kept walking until dusk. It was still quite hot, but there was a stiff easterly breeze so it wasn’t too unbearable. As the sun started to go down though, I realized there was something of a red glow coming from the east. It got brighter and soon sparks were flying through the air. The forest, dry as kindling, had caught fire, and the wind was driving it right towards me. I ran like I’d never run before, but the wind was faster and soon sparks and bits of burning leaves were flying all around me and threatening to set my hair alight. At last I came to what I thought was a stream, but it was nothing but a dried-up gully. The bushes and trees around me had already started burning and the smoke was horribly choking. I jumped down into the gully and ran down it for a little ways, but the forest went up around me so quickly, I was trapped with no way out of the gully. Fire was everywhere, and I was sure I would die in the blaze, but then I found a small alcove at the edge of the dried up stream. I ducked inside as the fire raged overhead, and the temperature was almost unbearable, but then the line of flame passed over me, and I ended up falling asleep amid the burnt out embers.

The following morning I awoke, stiff, thirsty, and covered in soot, but alive. The entire forest above me nothing but ash and embers. I walked for half a day until I encountered a search party sent by my father. When they returned me to the cottage, he embraced me tightly and then cursed me for being so foolhardy. He punished me by forcing me to stay on the cottage grounds for the remainder of the holiday, but I wouldn’t have left anyway. I think he was simply too glad I was alive to truly punish me. Ever since then I’ve been uncomfortable around open flames, so you’ll excuse me if I sit a little ways away from the campfires.

The following morning, Amara hears the knocking and heads out to take a look, still dressed in her nightgown. She won't descend the stairs, but on the second story and among her comrades she figures it's fine since they'll be on the road together later in the day anyway.

[razorback]

The night weaves its way into the night as the group gets to know each other. Tarik, in spite of himself and his earlier reaction, begins to relax a bit as the others tell their stories. When a new drink came for him, he turned and looked at the others before speaking.

Spoiler

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"Stories to be remember, and passed on to another generation." the gruff warrior says, sitting deep in the shadows.
"I suppose I can give a small slice of who I am, to give comfort to you all." as he lights his pipe, one of his few vices. Giving a small puff, he pauses before continuing. "Maybe you have and maybe you haven't heard of Tchavel Ch'Karthis, a forebearer of mine. Being of his lineage, it was expected, always, for us to be protectors of the Empire, from its humble beginnings to the heights we see now. So it was for me and my brothers. I have kept to the old ways, spear and shield over the sword. When I joined the army, I trained like any other recruit, given no favors or slights because of it. Once I had satisfied the sergeant, the packed me away north, away from Silens Pratus. The end years of my youth were spent against the endless hordes of those vile dragonspawn that Kurast. Repulsive as they are, their skills and magic are formidable, if not up to the will of the Empire and her sons and daughters." he leaned forward a bit, the glow of his pipe lighting his face as he pointed as the long scar running down the left side of his face. Ragged, it was, nearly taking his eye and the other surmised that his mouth would have been a gaping hole while it healed.
"This little reminder came from a patrol. Our patrol leader, foolish a bit but from a good family, was leading us. In a hurry, he was, to be out of the cold and rainy winter night... back in his quarters with a sip of rum, I imagine. He was new to the company and fresh out of the academy. We all knew the scouts should have been out but, to our detriment, we all were eager for a warm bed, too." he leaned back as the ember lit again and a puff of smoke came from him.
"Too late, someone either heard the flap of wind over wings or a shadow against a cloud... too late as the cold became ice as a wyrm descended on us, breathing death as we scattered. The patrol leader, one Atimus Nonus, survived the first blast but, as their Dragonborn spawn swept down on us, he valiantly stood and did battle, protecting his charge fruitlessly." he paused though no glow came from the shadows. He took a pool from his drink, a long moment passing, before he set it down empty. When he continued, his voice was a bit rougher.
"Scattered, though we were, we tried to regroup, only to have the wyrm descend upon us again. The men battled back, in vain. The last I remember is the wyrm falling upon us again, its claw grabbing at my face... pulling me off the ground to throw me down on the rocks below. Kord had other plans for me as he set the dragon's aim off and I crashed into a bush instead. I have no recollection of what happened next but I later found out I must have been there a couple of days when a vulture, picking my friends clean, came for me. I awoke to the bite of the carrion creature... and, after some time burying my comrades, made my way back to base to report what had happened." he paused to draw on his pipe once again, this time the ember was bright as it lit his face, the pain of the memory evident. "My commander, Felix Basilius, gave me time as he explained that Kord must have saved me for a reason. His advise was to, once healed, fight back the hordes, which I did for two more years. Once discharged, I took everything I earned to have this commissioned." he said as he lifted up his spear. "νήμα του θανάτου, in the old tongue. With it in my hand, and the skills I learned, I set forth for Kurast under cover of night, by myself. I lived like an animal for nearly nine moons as I listened to whispers at camps or in villages, following the great beasts carnage. Like a whisper I made my way into its lair and, it being gone, covered myself in its refuse, waiting. In the darkness, for some days, I waited until the creature returned, fat from eating some farmers cows as looked about before settling in to sleep in its gluttony. Like the moons shadow I crept across the chamber, every movement and breath held to a snails pace. " Another draw on his pipe brought a view of his face, deeply shadowed but sinister.
"Each moment blurred into the next as I moved, no sound but the wyrm, until I rose above it. The beast never even stirred as I lept into the air, spear lancing it with all my strength and fury, as it drove though its eye. It thrashed around for a few moments before dying. Two souvenirs I took away that day - one was a cut of skin from its hide." as he leaned his spear forward, you realize it is wrapped in the white skin and scaled near the top. "The other is knowledge. Knowledge that will and skill... of unwavering faith will eventually overcome magic and the rot that comes with it if one has the courage to do what must be done." With that, he stood and bid goodnight to everyone as he made his way to his room.

[dantiesilva]

Marcus as the morning sun rises up from the easy you say your morning prayers and suit up for this days adventures, however when a knocking comes to the door to the place you and the others have been given you ignore it believing it is not your place to answer the call of the unknown. You can only hope that whatever it is, it is nothing important.

Hunter the moment a knock is heard at the door you bolt out of your room to inspect what lays on the other side, and thanks to your size seeing through the keyhole is rather easy as you note a young boy roughly about ten years of age with a wooden sword and shield. He seems to be standing rigid, however you can tell from his posture he is anxious for the door to open. And so seeing no threat from the child you do just that, which leads the boys face to drop as he sees someone his own size and clearly not who he was expecting. "Greeting's Ms. I am Aeitus, is Lord Benedict around? I have urgent news for him." the boy says hoping back and forth on his feet.

Spoiler: OOC

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Anyone who so much as has their door open can hear the boy's question as he is not exactly being quite. So for instance Amara would easily hear this entire conversation.

[Thundercracker]

Amara

“Lord Benedict is not here, you may leave your message with me,” Amara said from down the hall. Even wearing a nightdress and robe, she somehow managed to exude class and sophistication as she glided towards the open door.

[NiKkatsu]

Oetychus listened to the others' stories intently - even Hunters' - and decided to go last. He told a very humble tale of his childhood, without too much flourish and without even strumming a single note on his lute, which seemed out of character for the man. As he was telling it, he became a little more heavy handed on the wine, as though talking about his youth was a painful experience for him. He tried not to let these feelings show in his expression or voice, though.

Spoiler: Oetychus' tale

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Ah! Of a good story I know, certainly. As a little boy, I was growing up in an orphanage and I had a friend there, Oliver. We were the best of friends, but we were also the worst children: we would raid the kitchen at night for food, hide dead squirrels in the beds of little boys we didn’t like, free the chickens and the pigs in the backyard and generally cause all kinds of mischief. Because of this, no one wanted to adopt us. We had a bad reputation. But who can blame us? Life in the orphanage wasn’t exactly great – we had to make our own fun. It’s also true that, however bad the life was there, we just didn’t want to be separated, we preferred to stick together and having each other was enough.
Oliver and I had made a habit of slipping out of the orphanage to go play with the children in the richer parts of town. Well, play is a strong word, because it turns out these kids weren’t exactly nice to us. They called us liceys, because they thought we would give them lice or some other kinds of parasites – and I can’t say we never had any lice… lots of lice going on in that orphanage, and scabies and, well… I guess those kids were kind of right about us, actually – but I digress.
The game that we used to play was eloquently named catch the liceys but beat the living crap out the liceys would have been a little more accurate. Essentially, these rich arses were chasing us around the streets with sticks and rocks and whatnot, trying to make us remember our place, as they would say. The first time it happened, I have to admit, was not so much of a game and more of just a general beating – I remember going home that night bruised and bloodied - but by the third and second time, Oliver and I had made it into a game that we could win. We just needed to prove something to these kids, you know? And the same could be said about them, I guess. I think at some point, these kids even kind of liked us, in their own sick, twisted way, it’s just that they couldn’t see us as anything else than orphans. They probably didn’t understand they were doing something bad to us anyways because we weren’t even people to them. It was more like they were playing with some street dogs or alley cats.
Needless to say, after a few times we started winning! We knew the best backstreets to hide in, how to get on the roofs… Funny how running from these kids taught me a lot of skills I am still using today. So, anyways, the fancy kids started taking it personally, of course. I remember the last time we played they completely rigged the game: there were so many of them, and already dispersed throughout the street – there was nowhere to run that time. They were waiting for us, and they completely beat the living hells out of us because they just couldn’t stand losing to the liceys all the time. I remember them just beating on me with these huge pointy rocks. The last thing I remember before passing out was the sound of music and the voice of a man singing. One of the kids looked up, and then all the others did, too. They stopped hitting me, but it was already too much for my body to take at that point
When I woke up, I was in my bed at the orphanage, Oliver was next to me. Strangely, our bodies were healed, and to this day I still wonder if that final game of catch the liceys was a dream or if it really happened.

In the morning he was curious about the knocking, but it seemed like Amara had in under control.

[dantiesilva]

Amara

“Lord Benedict is not here, you may leave your message with me,” Amara said from down the hall. Even wearing a nightdress and robe, she somehow managed to exude class and sophistication as she glided towards the open door.

As Amara explains Lord Benedict is not here you note the boy shuffle his feet uncomfortably before looking directly at Hunter. Showing a black and blue eye and a cut lip. "I was hoping to find him as I showed him the way here when he returned and well hes a knight." the boy explains stammering a few times. " Mercenaries are demanding protection payment from the "Beast" that kidnaps people in the night and I was hoping he could scare them off. I tried but they are so much bigger then me." the boy says ashamed he couldn't do it himself even though he is clearly no older than 10.

Marcus downstairs and unaware of what was happening upstairs you sit at a both as a woman with dirty blonde hair and the same almond shaped green eyes as the other three daughters of Mitéra and Dennet comes over with a plate of eggs, sausage, bacon, and freshly baked bread. You note she keeps her head down the entire time she serves you, and when she does speak her voice is barely above a whisper. "Would you like anything else sir?" she asks clearly knowing who you are as she didn't ask for any coin for the meal, but seemingly to afraid to call you by your name.

[Thundercracker]

Amara

“You are brave for trying,” Amara replied, “where are the mercenaries, and what is this Beast?”

[Novabomb]

Marcus Polonius inquires
Is there something wrong ma'am?

[dantiesilva]

Amara as you call the boy brave he smiles slightly at that, bowing his head. "Thank you my lady, Lord Benedict told me if I wanted to protect others a good knight would need a shield, sadly it didn't help that much." Aeitus explains before continuing. "The last place I saw them was walking the streets of Old Haven close to Sheperd's Door. However my buddies have been saying they have been making their rounds all around old Haven and a bit in New Haven. Thessia having their wall and own private military and all I think they are to smart to go there." Aeitus explains.

"As for the beast, no one knows. A few of the homeless people vanished a few nights back and no one really thought to much of it, however when old man Jenkins went missing last night we realized perhaps something was going on. Only reason we call it a beast honestly is because of the horrid sound everyone in the area around old Jenkins used to stay heard."

Spoiler: @Marcus

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As you ask the young woman if there is something wrong she shakes her head back and forth no, before speaking up just a little bit more to say no. As she looks towards the kitchen where you can hear the voices of Dennet and Thomas talking in the kitchen, for a moment it seems like she is lost in her own world when you notice Dennets voice speaking, however she quickly snaps out of it and gets back to work immediately the moment Mitéra walks out of some door behind the bar, and hobbles over to the same stool you saw her sitting in yesterday.

[Thundercracker]

Lady Amara

“Thank you for your service,” Amara said, passing the boy a silver coin, “if you see or hear this beast, you’re to run straight home. We will speak to the mercenaries.”

[Toliudar]

Hunter Greene

While Lady Amara addresses the boy, Hunter darts back to her room and returns with a bag. She reaches up with previously unseen gentleness to apply a bit of gauze to try to reduce the swelling on the boy's eye.

"Good lad. Smart of you to seek out Benedict. Now, how would we know these mercenaries who are so cowardly as to shake down a kid?"

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Heal check, using an Inspiration Point: (1d20+5)[20]

[dantiesilva]

"You are to kind my lady" Aeitus says as Lady Amara hands him a silver piece. "And I will do that and tell the other kids to do the same." he promises as Hunter returns from her room with a bit of gauze and tends to the boys eye. She is certain that it will heal properly thanks to her skills and he won't have any lasting injury from the wound. "Well their boss was a half-orc, with two hobgoblins and two bugbears with him. None of them said any names, however its not hard to find mercenaries in Angelius Ianuam given House Bato employs a lot of them for the war." The boy says as he tries to think of any defining features on any of the mercenaries.

It is as if a light goes off in his head as he looks up. "The leader, he tried to hide it however I think he couldn't control his right arm well. And he kept a glove on only that hand with his sleeves rolled down all the way." the boy explains hoping this could help in some way.

[Thundercracker]

Amara

“Thank you,” Amara said.

Once the boy departed and was out of earshot, Amara turned to the others.

“The ‘Beast’, sounds like one of those creatures we encountered in the mines,” she said, “it is beyond commoners to deal with, and those creatures are definitely not natural. I think we should investigate these disappearances before the ogres.”

[Toliudar]

Hunter Greene

Hunter is pleased to see Aeitus' spirits buoyed enough to head on his way. When Amara suggests that the group start by investigating this 'beast', Hunter shrugs agreeably.

"Sure. I'm not so good against the supernatural, but I'm willing to try. Guess we could start by talking with the town guards, anyone who might already have looked into this."

[NiKkatsu]

Intrigued by these talks about a beast, Oetychus joins Amara and Hunter.

''Yes, the guards would be a good place to start, but what about the friends of this Jenkins character? Possibly they would have seen something and could be helpful, too. Perhaps we split up to investigate? We will cover more ground like this. Oh! and good morning, ladies. I do hope you slept well in these rather spartan accommodations. My back is a little sore this morning.''

He gives a short bow and a smile.

[Thundercracker]

Amara

“Good morning,” Amara replied, required to by decorum, “a bed is always preferable to the road.”

“Splitting up is not a good idea, several of our former squad have been kidnapped and turned into those monsters, if Ryl’s letter is to be believed, and it took all of us working together to take one down,” she said.

[NiKkatsu]

Oetychus agrees: ''Certainly, yes. Wise words. I suppose we should rally the others, then, and head out. I'll just run upstairs to get my things real quick and warn the others of this new endeavor.''

After waking up the others, alerting them of the situation, he notices Marcus isn't in his room. He walks downstairs, tuning his lute, hoping to find the missing man there. An early bird, perhaps?

As he sees him, he sits at his table and explains to him what is going on.

[Thundercracker]

Amara returned to her own room to change into her travel gear and armor, then returned to the common residential area to await the others.

[dantiesilva]

Spoiler: @Marcus (who is on the first floor and by no means near the rest of the party)

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As you sit eating your breakfast peacefully an older gentleman with a full head of stark white hair and a beard to go with it begins walking down the stairs with a black cat following in his footsteps. The entire inn is empty at this early hour as the old figure waves to Mitéra behind the counter asking her how she slept as he made his way past the waitress who served you and says in a kind, though gruff sounding voice, "Aurelia dear could I get my usual please?" to which she shakes her head before looking down to the black cat. "And what about you Nero will you be having your breakfast before Jax wakes up and tries to steal all the treats?" she says kindly, as she bends to pet the cat "Nero". As she does so you note her ears are slightly pointed, revealing she is a half-elf.

Aurelia and Nero make their way towards what you can only assume to be the kitchen and you watch as the old man begins making his way straight to the table you are sitting at. When he gets to the table he moves a chair so it is looking at the door before sitting down. "Hope you don't mind, I tend to usually sit here in the morning. Old habits of being a soldier, though judging by the looks of you I suspect you choose this table for the same reason I do." the old man says kindly, his Amber eyes full of life despite his age.

Spoiler: The party (who is on the third floor in their own private suite)

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Deciding that perhaps the orges were not as immediate of a problem as this "beast" Aeitus told you about, and with the Mercinaries in the same direction anyways the three of you decide it is best to investigate this further as with this letter from Ryl saying your friends had been kidnapped and turned into these things that Amara says almost killed the entire previous group the chances of the town guard or simple commoners being able to handle such a challenge were no doubt rather low. And best to stick together as everyone begins to get prepared and ready to go out before waking the others who had not yet risen from their slumber."