The Adventure!

[RangingWolf]

Cyrus was getting tired of all the drunkards and noise. He finished drinking the small amount of mead he allowed himself and walked out of the inn. He was going to see if anything interesting was going on outside and to get some fresh air. He passed several darwves and a humans on his way out.

[Azena]

None of the dwarves were the ones Rygar had been hunting. If he had passed through the village, he was long gone. He downed his pint and let the foam froth around his mouth. He loved the smell of good ale. After a moment of basking in the scent of good brew, he wiped the froth away and jumped off his stool. He went to the notice board and placed the wanted poster dead in the center. He grabbed a nail and slammed it through the rough paper. Just in case the fool decided to wander through here eventually, maybe somebody in town would catch him. He stepped aside as an older human walked past him to get to the door. Probably, too much merriment for a grumpy elder.

Normally, it's the exact atmosphere Rygar loved to engulf himself in when he traveled, but this trip was different than most. It was personal. He couldn't waste time and risk this target from getting away. He tightened his belt and made for the door. If this village didn't have the answers he needed, he'd have to go elsewhere. There are so few places a rogue dwarf can go after all.

[Huscarl]

The feast continued until early in the morning when the last few stubborn drunkards fell asleep, allowing the village to once again descend into peaceful silence. Friends had been made, foes had been fought, songs had been sung and a lot of mead had been drunk. The evening had been glorious for most, but the morning would be its opposite. Dawn came early, way too early, and brought hell with it. Red-eyed and moaning they came, creeping and crawling from their shaded lairs in search of something to quench their thirst and soothe their thunderous headache. They, who would have to prepare the morning for the rest of their ilk. They barely resembled humans anymore, but looked rather like broken, miserable dead things. The villagers slowly, very slowly, started to wake from their slumber. The village lived once again, but its heart beat with a much slower pace.

-

Vísla woke to the snoring of dwarves. It was as if the entire world shook with each rumbling intake of breath, causing his head and every joint in his body to cringe with pain. He tried to move; had to get away, but couldn't. There was no strength in his bones, and even the slightest alteration of his position got heavily protested against by his guts who theatened to reject everything he'd consumed the last twenty four hours on his own bloody self. So he settled, and suffered, and wished for swift deliverance, even if that meant death. It was uncanny, the way the dwarves timed each snore with their comrades; when one dwarf started to exhale, another would quickly fill the silence with his own gurgling, rasping clamor. The effect was one long, excutiating chorus of snores. Needless to say, it was unbearable. But Vísla endured and did not die, in spite of his fiercest prayers to the holy Mother.

[Aarkaine]

Kolmadi woke in his own bed, which surprised him a little, considering how much he had had to drink the night before.
Carefully sliding out of bed, he headed over to his door. Opening it made his head feel like it was going to split, but he made it to the water bucket and dunked his head into it.
He repeated this process a number of times before heading back inside to make himself a rather greasy breakfast, in hope of soaking up the last of the remaining alcohol and to get organized for a days work in his forge.

[Azena]

Rygar had woken up about an hour ago. He had decided it was too late to travel the night before and took to setting up his camp on the hill overlooking the village. He liked it up there, keeping an eye on the little village as the party went long into the night. He had just packed up the last of his things and was now heading down the slope, a little slippery in the morning dew, to make his way through the village and back onto the road.