Cyne & Nor

Location: Salarn & Crossed Swords Tavern
Interacting with:Sana, Ntaj & Sana

Cyne had remained a background element since Sana was treated at the temple. For the time being she didn't feel like she had a lot to contribute to any of the conversations. She'd been traveling with these people for the better part of a week now, but it felt as if everyone outside of a pre-established clique was kept at arm's length from one another. She supposed that she was contributing to that atmosphere by doing a lot of watching and waiting, and not a lot of doing, but that's how things were.

"I do need a couple of things, but I can go on my own time. No need to drag everyone else along with me," she replied to Sana's suggestion to go with Satilla & the others to restock. In her periphery, she spotted Ntaj leave the tavern looking more than a little off put. "As for joining you inside, perhaps in a moment or two, there's something I need to see to." With that said, she walked off behind Ntaj, catching up to him relatively quickly. She was a fast walker, and he seemed preoccupied with his thoughts.

<<What's bothering you, Ntaj?>>

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"Yer that lass that big oaf was carrying around like a sack of cement? Surprised tae see you up and well in the state you were in. A am nae with yer group, but I did meet with a couple. Filled me in on the gist of the situation with this town. Just rolled into town meself. Nor, son of Gnor at yer service. Speaking of service ye look pretty awful, bluntly speaking. No offense by that by the way, wouldn't expect a lass coming off a week long flu tae look right and pretty. If'n yer interested, I could give ye a well grooming. Me's a barber by trade, but I can work a lassie's hair almost as well as I can a lad's. Bet ye clean up tae a real bonnie."

Any irritability that could be read on his face disappeared once Sana sat at the table. Had to look chipper and friendly while making a sales pitch. While it was true that he was going to do his best to wring this woman out of her cash, almost nothing he said was false. She did look like somebody who had let their personal grooming fall to the wayside after an extended bout of illness, which was a perfectly reasonable thing to do. And she did look like she could be really pretty with a bit of work here and there. If you were into human broads. As for being able to work with women's hair, it was probably true. He wouldn't be able to do anything particularly fancy, but the fundamentals of hair care were constant across races, he doubted the nature of hair would change dramatically across genders.

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Location: Crossed Swords Inn & Tavern

Interacting With: Sana, Nor, Femnal, The Scullery Crew (?)

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Keystone had just sat down when Sana made the request for him to get back up and take over for the local cook on her behalf. This place didn't seem like the type of establishment that prepared meals "to order", unless one was very good friends with the owner or was willing to part with a disproportionate amount of currency. As it turned out, Keystone was, in fact, NOT very good friends with the owner. His last visit to this Inn & Tavern did not ingratiate himself to Femnal, nor his war profiteering former employer Cremwise. Admittedly, it was his fault, more or less. But that was a subject best thought about at a later time.

He still didn't want to do it. Keystone would much rather have kept his posterior on his chair and gotten a bowl of whatever the scullery crew had scraped together. But apparently, that wouldn't quite be fair to his adventuring companion who was still on the mend, and unwilling to deal with food that was too solid. He sighed audibly. "Yeah, bloody fine. I'm on it." Yeah, he didn't like it. But he was going to do it anyway. He nodded to the Dwarf at the table (why the arse did Sana insist on sitting here?), and remarked, "Mind she don't start no 'eavy liftin', yeah?"

The tricky part was trying to convince the owner. The diminutive Gnome, Femnal, seemed none to happy with the large man insisting that he be allowed access to his kitchen - again. Granted the first time was to repair a situation birthed of traveler's rations and overcooked turnips, delivered by way of his Styxian colon. The two of them entered into a short conversation in low tones, just out of earshot of the nearest of patrons.

For anyone paying attention to the muted dialogue, Keystone and Femnal went through a series of facial expressions hinting at shock, anger, bargaining, even betrayal. At one point, the Gnomish proprietor climbed onto a nearby barstool and leapt bodily upon the bar, intent on going for a short blade on his person and burying it into the broad man's eyesocket. Keystone responded by closing a ham-sized hand around the tiny antagonist's shoulder and rearing back a closed fist that promised potential bluntforce decapitation. The two combatants froze, exchanging more quiet words. Keystone looked very confused for a second or two, then relented with an exaggerated shrug and a nod of affirmation. He clicked a single coin onto the bar next to Femnal, and disappeared back into the kitchen area. What he saw shocked him.

Disarray. Heavy, nigh massive provisioning, stored all willy-nilly and in varying states of preparedness. The full suite of scullery staff that greeted him the first time around was curiously absent, replaced by a single man who looked as bewildered to be there as Keystone was to note the lack of staffing. "Well. Bloody, Bacon-damned 'ell is all this, eh?" The only thing that appeared to be prepared in any decent amount was the stew from earlier. Stew, and some sort of local bread in large, unevenly cooked hunks. There were a couple wheels of cheese that looked like they had been inexpertly carved into, and a multitude of tools and kitchen staples that should have been carefully put away.

"Right. You obvious ain't got clue-sodding-one what's goin' on back 'ere, have ya? Pile a buncha crap into a pot, call it stew, didja? Nah, you're done for now. I'm gonna get something together for a good friend o' mine, and you... You're gonna tell me where I'm findin' half the stuff I needs to do it." At least the fire underneath the cooking irons were well tended.

But first things first. Keystone located a slab of what he thought was beef and cut off several steaks. He rubbed coarse salt and sage into them, along with a good, neutral oil, and set them in a heated pan upon the stovetop with a satisfying Hisssssss. That would take the longest bit, the steaks were quite thick. "Thought I saw a heap o' whole roasted 'tatos, yeah?" he mentioned to the lone cook still on Femnal's staff. "Want you to take the skins offa several and put the white fleshy stuff into a mixin' bowl."

The cook acquiesced to Keystone's demands. Slowly at first, but what he saw what the large, intimidating man was actually doing in his kitchen, he nodded at set to work. Meanwhile, the brawler was set a pot over the fire with moderate amounts of butter and good, thick cream. He likewise prepared a saucepot with brown poultry stock and began squeezing together a quick roux out of cool flour and melted butter. He paused for a moment to flip the steaks. "Passin' sear. Couple minutes on th'other side, yet..." He cracked a number of eggs into the pan, salted the lot of it, covered, and transferred it into the oven proper.

In all, it didn't take but a few minutes' time. The majority of the long preparations were already done. This was more of an impressive construction and final dash of heat needed to bring everything together. And of course, with only two people working on everything, one of whom with requisite skills to perform the duties properly, no one got in their way and Keystone didn't have to wait for equipment to free up.

Keystone was nearing the end of his time in the kitchen. For Sana, he had prepared a lovely (if massive) portion of thick and creamy mashed potatoes, swimming in amber chicken gravy (flavored lightly with bacon fat and local herbs). There were many other items he prepared while the repast was cooking and resting, but the brunt of his effort and attention went into the simplest of items for the generally pissed-off gypsy lady. Potatoes and Gravy. Hard to mess up, but hard to perfect. "Oy! You there!" he called to his involuntary assistant. "This all's been paid for out front. Many thanks for the assist though, yeah? One of them steaks, three of them eggs, and a half loaf o' that bread's for you. Put the rest on platters, 'ceptin' those 'tatos. Them's for me to move."

He looked again at the utter bounty of what Femnal had, far more than he needed with the reduced numbers in the town. Very likely, he had just located his spot to re-provision. The food was better set for a single location than for travelers' fare, but nothing he couldn't overcome with a bit more time in this room. For now, load up and get ready to cart everything out front. It should be much more than was expected, but there more people with him than just Sana and himself. "...that ale better be waitin' on me..." he thought aloud.

Satilla Valen

“We need medical supplies.” Satilla stated also with flat tone after Kyra mentioned not being ripped off. Having her along, certainly boosted Sat's mood and confidence. On her own she wasn't really going to struggle too much about the price given her nature and she'd usually pay more than she should have, but not being alone right now and having a team of people who depended on this resupplying, made her be more sure and ready to bargain about this.

“We need healing potions... Also not something watered down. I've had people try to cheat me like that in the past. I brew potions for living as a side thing to my main profession... I recognize badly watered down potion when I see one. Also I want to see all of the herb types you have in stock. Need to see what's available before I buy those.” She explained, browsing though the shelves about the place, but knew that stores like this usually kept most of their stocks away from the shelves.

“Will also need bandages, cleaned and prepared for use in addition to a container for keeping salves.” Making balms and salves was a good way to extend the medical supplies they'd have, but her wooden container for salves broke a while ago.

Wizard thou art mere conjurer of cheap tricks,
Thou art a falsehood, thy learning a lie,
Thy staff impotent and thy wands old sticks,
Thy books are hollow, thine powers denied,
Magicless thy birth and so too shalt thou die.

Warlock thou art mere lender and borrower be,
Thine fey or foul or fiend thou hath consort,
Thy deal was tainted, thy pact magic a greed,
Thy soul is sold, thou art a filthy escort,
Thus suckle the rod which thou needeth support.

Spellsword thou art mere simple hack and slash,
Thou art brutish rapscallion of all the arcane,
Thy blade is heresy, thy melee balderdash,
Thou art false magus thus yield thy claim.
A sword for a staff means a stone for a brain.

Artificer thou art mere trinkets and craft,
Thy potions explode, thy scrolls too fail,
Thy enchantments fade, thy ideas a laugh,
Thou mayest tinker away all to no avail,
So leaveth magic be and work in sales.

Necromancer thou art mere dark and gloom,
Thy spirits unruly, thy hygiene doth lack,
Thy parts second-hand begotten of thy tombs,
Thy life is a waste, and thou would agree in fact,
Thus kindly die in a hole and never cometh back.

Bard thou art mere-

Wait a moment, better not let Sana know this one.
Perhaps it was best to leave the insults to the necromancers and other spellcasters.
Every sort of magic user had their own forte, although Sorcerers were born with it.
Everything was already inside of them, waiting to be tapped in with some focus.
They required not the years of study or borrowed from elsewhere but of course...

Sorcerer thou art mere accident by birth,
Thy chaos consumed, thy magics art crude,
Thy skills untrained, unearned of own worth
Thy mother a hamster who thy father imbued,
And she took his essence with gratitude.

Oh the joys of meditation, where does the mind wander.
Focus Thomas, there may as well be a fight tonight.
So breathing in and out slowly to the pulsating stars, the ever changing moon and the setting sun did Thomas attune himself to the universe.

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Sana knew Keystone didn't want to cook anything right then and would rather just stay at the table but that hadn't stopped her from asking. She knew the man knew how to cook, she had eaten in the village before she had found him and Kyra north of the town, and she knew she wasn't going to stomach anything else from this place. At least not if she could help it. Why he had agreed to it she didn't know, but then again she didn't care. As long as she got food. She hadn't been able to swallow anything solid for days and even water had been an issue. Though she had managed to remain hydrated her stomach was letting her know in no uncertain terms that if she didn't get something in there soon it would quit and sue for separation.

"Why I want you to cook! I won't want my food to weigh ten pounds a fork full!" Sana said quickly before looking over towards the barber dwarf and getting the sales pitch. She had to give him this. He was insulting just enough to make most feel self conscious but jovial enough to make you go okay, well probably most people. The whole looking pretty thing Sana had to question. Her hair was always everywhere, it really hadn't been a big thing for her to worry about, why she kept it cropped shorter. Her big thing were the scars along her throat, neck, chest, back, and arm. There was no amount of grooming that could take care of that. The last person she had been close to had walked out of her life soon as she became scarred. It probably wasn't why he left but it had left a bad taste in her mouth to say the least.

"After I eat, bathe, and get some sleep, then maybe." Sana shrugged a bit, she wasn't against the idea but food, scrubbing her skin, and sleeping where at the top of her list right then. She would have suggested Keystone but she doubted the dwarf could do anything for him. Keystone kept shaved, both head and face. Smirking she glanced back over towards Nor. Too bad my friend Shela isn't here. She'd probably take you up on it. That is if you could get her to hold still and keep quiet long enough," she commented with a chuckle thinking back to the last time she had seen the woman. "Sundered Dwarf, woman could use a comb more than I could right now."

Over at the Apothecary Kyra was dealing with the shop merchant. The man went slightly slack jawed when Kyra had said she didn't want to be ripped off, even more so as Satilla started out with her version. Clamping his jaw shut he swallowed slightly and nodded. "Alright, just a moment," was all he said before stepping into the back of the shop behind a curtain. Kyra just rolled her eyes before leaning against the counter and looking around. the place looked half bare, which wasn't surprising to her after the conversation she had had with the towns constable. Attacks made healing a bit more needed.

Pushing off the counter Kyra got to looking around what was there. She hadn't gone through many of personal supplies during the journey but she figured getting a few more items wouldn't be a bad idea. Her fingers ran along the shelves; there were some linens, needles and bobbins of thread, splints, some minor healing potions and general poison remedies. Nothing grand but it was something.

Coming out from behind the curtain the shop keeper was carrying a rather large box. Inside it was various dried herbs, flora and fauna, pieces of dried animal parts that Kyra had to assume served some purpose. Glass jars; some empty with corks in the top, others filled and seals in various colors. The colors ranged from clear to black, shades were weak to bright. There were powders, salves, and so forth. Seemed he was rather well stocked. Well perhaps in variety but not in amount. One to two of most items.

"This is the majority of the higher end stuff that I have left, the local militia took most of it," he said as he set the wood crate down on the counter.

"Took? Most say purchased."

"Yeah, well when coin isn't exchanged, I don't."

"Fair enough."

Ntaj looked for the local milita or guardsmen, though not very hard. It was a quiet village so surely whoever was suppose to protect it was watching at their post, or possibly even asleep. Not that Ntaj thought every village guard was that incompetent, but it was a stereotype. Frankly Ntaj was starting to have doubts about what he was doing here. But never one to let his mind convince him otherwise, Ntaj chose to distract himself by wandering around the village and looking for interesting things. He wasn't have much lucky. There was the occasional dog who came to either bark or beg him for scraps. He saw a chicken. And there was someone with a delicious looking ox in their yard, but he didn't do much but look at them. Ntaj wasn't sure what he was expecting when he went walking around. Maybe a fight pit or a demonic ritual. But that was just wishful thinking.

He nearly jumped and had his hand on his sword when he heard someone call out to him in orcish. He had thought one of the warriors from the orc tribe had come to the village to attack it, but it was only Cyneburg. Ntaj hadn't spoken to Cyneburg much these past few days beyond exchanging simply pleasantries during meals, or when it was time to change watch. Ntaj avoided her because upon reflection (Which he's only been able to do since he can rely on the group to watch his back so he could relax), he felt he may have been a bit overzealous when he first met her. He had come to these lands to look for other orcs, and one of the first he met was not only a half-orc like himself, but a female too. Instincts took over and made him seem oddly clingy, which in hindsight Ntaj was beating himself up over. He was suppose to be a proud, mighty orcish warrior, not some horny barbarian who hasn't felt a woman's touch in years.

<<Restless. Finally at the village but so far we haven't really done much. Or at least I haven't. I'm told that Kyra knows something, but whatever she knows she isn't keen on sharing.>>

The concept in Ntaj's voice was plain enough to understand. What he didn't understand was why Kyra didn't trust Ntaj, or the others for that matter. Perhaps it was just a cultural difference. After all, Ntaj was born with the knowledge that he had both the skills and resources to face any challenge he faced. But the same could not be said of the others; they had to rely on the element of surprise, and giving that away cripples their abilities. Ntaj understood it's need, but he didn't understand why Kyra felt the need to withhold that information from him. How else was Ntaj suppose to do his part if he didn't know half of what was going on?

<<Spoke to someone here. Someone's been stealing dead bodies at night. Seems relevant. I was thinking of heading over there right now and planning how to watch in case more shows up. Also ask around.>>

Cyne & Nor

Location: Salarn & Crossed Swords Tavern
Interacting with:Ntaj & Sana

<<But why? We're supposed to be working together, aren't we?>> Cyne couldn't think of any good reason to avoid sharing information on a topic like this. Everyone she had met so far seemed to be at the very least, greatly opposed to the idea of undead running amok. Unless whatever information she had was something way out of the bounds of the kind of happenings that would surround a case of necromancy, it seemed petty at best, dangerously paranoid at worse.

<<As for catching anybody who shows up, why not set up a trap? Less work than sitting in a graveyard all night.>>

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"Fair enough, lass. Some things're more important than how nice ye look at any given time." So that was two potential sales he'd gotten within the space of a couple hours in this town, which was 2 more than he'd been expecting to get. Not a bad job if he did say so, himself. Of course that was assuming either of the people would actually follow through instead of changing their minds later, as wishy-washy humans were want to do.

"Ye sure she'd have a hard time staying still? From what I seen, women get taught tae stay stone still in a hairdresser's chair when they're still a wee lass, else they get a good singing from the curling iron. Maybe that's just me hometown."

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Location: Crossed Swords Inn & Tavern

Interacting With: Sana, Nor, Femnal

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Keystone kicked the kitchen door from the inside let it swing almost completely open before exiting that blessed place of epicurean delights. At least it was recently, seeing as the Crossed Swords wasn't especially known for above average food until the unlikely culinarian made his forced appearance. He wanted the door to be open as wide as possible, considering that he was hauling out a rather large platter of flatware and "fixin's" for the group's upcoming meal. The previously overwhelmed scullion that gave him an assist (whose name he hadn't bothered to ask) followed Keystone out with another, equally as large platter, laden with covered dishes and savory smells.

On the way back to the table with Sana and Nor, Keystone called to Femnal, the proprietor of the establishment. "C'mon over, I saved you a plate. Let's talk. I got good silver for some of your provisions what ain't doin' anybody any good right now, yeah?" Keystone looked to the landing site for his platters of deliciousness - the table - and noted with some disappointment that the ale he requested was absent. "Oy! And bring over that ale I bloody well paid for earlier!" Yes, he distinctly remembered asking for ale and water for the table, lots of both. But that could be easily remedied, by either Femnal or one of his employees that hadn't gone missing. Or himself, if he had a continued lack of bitter and lightly alcoholic beverages on his group's table. Oh yeah, and water, too.

He rested his large platter on the edge of the table, shuffling off flatware and already prepared foodstuffs such as bread and cheese, whole butter and seasonings (salt and minced herbs, mostly). But there was a large serving bowl, which contained the principal reason for entering the kitchen in the first place: Creamy, buttery mashed potatoes. He set a plate in front of Sana and splatted a couple sizeable glops of the starchy heaven upon it, making a deep depression in the mound of off-white with the wooden spoon. Said depression was filled to overflowing with the amber poultry gravy and topped with a sprinkling of fresh, green herbs. Keystone then set a tea saucer with a plentiful helping of salt down next to the plate, intoning, "Not quite rememberin' how you take your 'tatos, Miss Sana. Ought not need the extra," he continued, motioning to the salt at her disposal, "but it's there if you want. Plenty more of them 'tatos and gravy, too."

His platter now clear, he stuck a spoon into the top of Sana's potatoes like a bare flagpole and removed his platter from the table. The scullion, now with room to maneuver, deposited his precious cargo of several mid-rare steaks, many eggs fried with medium consistency yolks and good, solid whites, and lightly roasted winter vegetables. Keystone grunted a quick thanks to his temporary assistant and looked to the Dwarf at the table. "Go ahead and get in on some o'this, if steak & eggs tickles your 'ungry."

Keystone looked to his compromised companion, Sana. "Right, you eat up. I got us a room upstairs - two beds, mind you - should be readying a bath as we speak. Takes time though, so you make with the 'not chewing' and get something solid in ya." As for himself, Keystone settled back into a chair next to the Gypsy-Bard and skewered two steaks, a few eggs, and broke off a sizeable hunk of (hopefully) fresh bread. He intended to eat well and enjoy himself. Little was guaranteed when there existed the high probability of the dead rising from their eternal slumber for the sole purpose of making you dead, as well. Plus, Keystone was a big guy. He had to fuel the fire, as it were. Keystone did notice the abundance of food on the table, yet only the three of them present to eat it. "Hey, where's everybody else?" he asked to no one in particular. No matter, more for him... though they probably should get together at some point in time before long. Survival tactic, and whatnot.

Satilla Valen

“Ohh...” Satilla was not surprised by the words of the man. The militias and the like did tend to take such things they needed without the 'need' to pay for it. It certainly explains why the man didn't appear at too great of a mood, but that had nothing to do with her or the party. Their survival depended on this resupply! If things went bad, it was her responsibility to have the means to sustain their health as long as possible." Taking the supplies like this without paying for them anything is just... so stupid."

She quickly browsed through the rather impressive selection in the box.” Now this is what a good stock looks like.” She stated, despite the fact there were a few of anything. In fact it sort of reminded her of a well stocked traveling supplies. Throw this on the back of a horse and you can say you are prepared for anything.” Let's see...” She stated, her eyes running through each dried herb, each ingredient that was in the box. Everything from the herbs and potions to powders and salves.

Some herbs she couldn't recognize right away, but getting a very light sniff of their scent would jog her memory as she started to sort through them." This... no... that... mhm and that. This certainly no!" Her priority were those who could be used for healing as such she lined everything that caught her attention to one side. Including some dried herbs that on their own wouldn't provide healing, but had great boosting properties for the body's natural recovery.

“These should do the trick I believe.” She stated, it wasn't too much a quantity, but the quality was great!” I can process the rest of the ingredients myself when we need them into potions or salves.” She stated and looked at Kyra and then the merchant.” What would be the price you ask for these?” The witch asked, hoping the man wouldn't boost the price too much and get Kyra's ire. She had separated everything they needed on the one side by the box. Kyra provided the money and the witch was ready to use it to pay market value on these, maybe just a little above it since well it was the last stocked merchandise of this type and he still had to make a living and eventually resupply!

Don't you know whatcha are?
Jamming good with Sun and Moon,
And the others from Stars.
You tried to leave land,
But didn't get far,
Became the special man,
When we were Ziggy's band.

An apparition appeared, as most apparitions might, caused by either delirium or epiphany. Perhaps a bit of both, though meditations allowed the mind to wander, sometimes it wander too far, too deep. There was a man, or something of a man, the shape of a humanoid man with one head, two arms, and legs in a bipedal stance. Though it did not stand much, or at least stand still, for the illuminating hallucination seemed to dance across the eternal plane that was Thomas' lost mind. What was this being? A figment of the imagination? With radiant skin so white it burns to gaze at, though its odd eyes fluttered open and closed, the mouthless face it bore sang the unusual tune. Bizarre was it was, Thomas felt a familiarity to deranged entity. Most mages were after all, weird.

Now Welcome to the gang,
screwed up fate and screwed your debut
Do you know what I am?
I could kill you by dancing,
I could give your demands,
'Came on you magic man,
Ill sung and cosmic plan...

It was a star. One of the sentient stars from which Thomas must have been related to. A being of pure light and madness. Indeed it was they who ruled the fates by their subtle manipulations. It was they who were the influence to his birth. By their moments, the prophecies changed, by their whim, desires granted. And just remember, that everything that ever was or will be, mere Stardust in the sky. Those maddening eyes stared back, one pupil small the other wide, dilated like a swallowing pit that devoured all sanity there in. He could feel himself becoming entranced, enchanted by this starman.

Maybe it was time to stop meditations. It had been at least a few hours right? Thomas concentration wavered for a moment. His earthly body demanded attention, food, drink, and some better company than dancing space men. Maybe a few more minutes, it would be impolite to leave before Ziggy finishes his song.

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Sana looked over towards Nor, giving him a slight smirk and shaking her head. "Shela isn't like most I have met, she's... unique," she said quietly, trying to conserve her voice some. It didn't hurt as it did earlier but it was still sensitive and if they had more fights ahead of them she needed to be able to use her skills, those other than her bow. How could she describe Shela? Brash, overbearing, made Keystone look like a finely refined lady in waiting? She who lays with Half-Orcs? All these did well to describe her but it still left much to the imagination. In the end she could only think of one way to tell about Shela and it still came up far short.

"Shela is an experience..."

Looking over as Keystone came back she eyed the plate. Maybe she should have been more specific. The potatoes and gravy looked good but she wondered if they were too think for her to be able to swallow. Water was presenting a little challenge. Shrugging she figured she might as well, it wasn't the time to start throwing her food. "Thanks," she said before picking up a spoon and trying a small bite. It tasted as she expected, great. Keystone had always made good food, sadly she was rarely in a condition to really eat it. It was hard to swallow but she found that if she kept her bites small and washed it down with a lot of water she was able to manage.

She cocked a brow as he said he had gotten them a room together. That wasn't expected. She figured she would be bunking with Kyra or even Satilla since she was the healer. He said there were two beds, so she let it go. Seemed he was wanting to keep an eye on her. "Well Kyra and Satilla went for supplies, Cyneburg said she'd be back later I think. The rest, I have no idea," she said as Femnal brought over several large pints of ale and an even larger pitcher of more.

"Here you go, rooms are ready for your group. Baths are being drawn and should be ready in about half an hour," he said as he sat down and rested his chin on the table. He looked tired, a huge change from how he had been a week ago.

Outside the city was winding down but the militia was out and about patrolling the streets and the perimeter of the town, guards were posted through out but it didn't seem to be near as many as they would need for a town even this small in comparison to others. Over towards the graveyard there were no more graves being dug at this point, instead bodies were gathered and burned now, after which a few members of the temple gathered the bones that remained and were hammering them to dust.

Back at the Apothecary Kyra leaned against the counter as Satilla went through the supplies, eying things and the man who had brought them out. Reaching into the box she pulled out a small amulet and cocked a brow. Flipping it over a few times before setting it with the rest of the things that were to be purchased. "This too," she said as she righted herself.

"Oh yes, that is a fine choice, very rare, very rare indeed," he said stumbling over his words. Kyra smirked and shook her head.

"Really? How do you know? You don't even know what this is do you?"

"That's how I know it's rare!" he snapped back. Rolling her eyes she shook her head and gave the man a warning glance as her hand went to rest on her bow.

"Fine, take it, like everyone else here just takes," he growled.

Kyra looked over towards Satilla as she drew a silver arrow and unslung her bow from her shoulder. Drawing the string back she let it fly and the man yelped. The arrow didn't hit him though, embedding in the wall next to his head. "That should more than cover everything," she said as her bow was laced over her shoulder and she pocketed the amulet. "Come on, let's go find the others," she said as she gathered the few things she had bought personally and let Satilla grab the rest. Stepping outside she looked around and rested her hand on the hilt of her blade. People with wares were usually targets, it was best to let Satilla do the carrying and her the blade. Ash yawned slightly as he padded over towards Kyra and licked the palm of her hand.

Nor

Location: Crossed Swords Tavern
Interacting with:Sana, Keystone

"Frankly, yer making it sound like yer friend is a batshit loonie, lass. I've found it's best tae avoid those types if'n ye like remaining free of stab wounds." Nor's expression was gruff and immutable, but not at all out of the ordinary to anyone with any experience dealing with Dwarfs. However, his tone of voice indicated that at the very least, he wasn't annoyed by the conversation that was taking place. However, his eyes widened when Keystone arrived with several platefuls of goodies in tow, apparently free for the taking by anyone at the table. His eyes darted to the steak, and then to Keystone, then back to the steak, and then the eggs before returning to Keystone.

"Just who're you and how did ye manage tae get ahold of so much steak in a bilgewater cesspit like this?" His voice consisted mostly of suspicion, with a slight dash of acclaim mixed in. His eyes were narrowed at the pugilist, but his hands grabbed a knife and took one of the heftiest steaks for himself without the dwarf ever breaking eye contact.

<<I do not know. She doesn't trust me. Maybe you'll have better luck if you ask her.>> It still made Ntaj wonder what was Kyra's problem. He tried to run the possibilities in his head but they all just came to the same conclusions: she didn't trust him. The hows and whys didn't matter as that was the only conclusion that prevented their cooperation. Maybe she thinks that whoever is raising the dead is spying on them. Maybe she thinks Ntaj had something to do with it. Frankly the distrust only served to sow more distrust between the two of them; now Ntaj wonders if Kyra does think he has something to do with the undead, and might try to pull her clout with the group to lynch him. It was a rather extreme thought, but it was there. At the very least Ntaj made up one thing in his mind: he was going to tell Kyra what he knew in front of the others, and then confront her about the distrust. If she didn't want to consider themselves allies, then Ntaj had no reason to give her the respect of a leader. He would confront her as an opponent.

<<And a trap could be good too. I don't imagine the townsfolk go through the graveyard a lot. But it might be a big area and I don't have any traps. But it's not a bad idea.>> Ntaj new a few basic snares for small game and such, and he could try to use his rope to increase the size. But unless the one digging up these graves is a cripple or a child, he doubt his rope tricks would keep them trapped for long. In this instance he may need to ask for help from the others if he wants to pull this off successfully, so he looked to Cyneburg again. <<Do you know how to make traps?>> She was a druid after all, perhaps she knew her way around those sorts of devices. Ntaj stilled prefer the idea of a stake out if only because it would allow for a more immediate action. But he'll take whatever ideas he can for now.

Satilla Valen

Satilla was left quite surprised and jolted when Kyra drew an arrow and fired it. Granted a few moments later she realized what it was as the other woman spoke. She smiled, since she knew that Kyra was not some backwater ruffian who just bullied people and stole their things. She was a woman of her own morals and code of conduit, all things that the witch respected. She wouldn't mind traveling with her for quite a while more, at least while Kyra had need of her services as a healer. Sats knew well enough that the party would separate sooner or later and who knew one day they may gather again on totally unrelated occasion.

“Alright!” Satilla replied and with utmost haste and care was rapidly arranging the buys in her bag. She even pulled Skittles out of it so she can fit it all." Off you go... this here. That over there..." She really had to rearrange things later when they arrive at the inn though. Currently it was still quite not well managed so the bag appeared very bulging and she had to keep her hand on it so something doesn't fall by chance.

“Things are looking up a little at least.” Satilla said with a smile as they walked.” We are restocked healing supplied as much as we can, Sana's better now too. Granted what she said does probably mean trouble, but depending on things, we at least won't be facing it in bad condition.” She said to Kyra in attempt to make a top to chat while they walk towards the Inn.

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Location: Crossed Swords Inn & Tavern

Interacting With: Sana, Nor, Femnal

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The itinerant brawler known as Keystone assaulted his first steak with arbitrary vigor. Fork met steak, steak met teeth, piece gets torn away and consumed. Seemed to fit. Now, once upon a time, the large man was of the opinion that forks and the like were to be reserved for special occasions. Luckily, his years of travel and training had exposed him to a slightly more sophisticated standard of living, and from many different cultural sources. Slightly. Hence the now common use of flatware. He expected a bit of hassle whenever he found his way back home for his newfound (if minor) refinement. Of course, he had progressed so very much since then, and he was already one of the best bareknuckle pugilists of his home city. Keystone could stomp the unholy snot out of anyone masochistic enough to so much as titter at him.

The first couple of bites down, Keystone decided to actually use a knife. He selected his favorite blade from the back of his belt, the large, bone handled seax that never seemed to dull nor tarnish. It was a masterful piece of work, and it did a masterful piece of work on the chunk of seared cowflesh on the plate in front of him.

Sana rattled off the probable locations of the rest of the group. So they might be a little while. "Right then. I'll try an' save 'em a steak or two. No promises." he noted the discomfort with which she was slowly taking to her mashed potatoes. "Ah, um... I can run in back and grab some broth, if that does it better for ya. Or, that gravy's a bloody meal by itself, Miss Sana." There was quiet concern in his voice, and he stood ready to move at a moment's notice. He still had at his steak, though, manners not being his strongest suit.

The actions of the previously unknown Dwarf struck Keystone as odd. Slightly odder was the best verbal example of "looking a gift horse in the mouth" that he had witnessed in quite a while, not including the last time someone gave him a horse and he actually asked how its teeth were. Not his finest moment. But just now, if seemed as if he were being accused of something. He responded slowly, maintaining the offered eye contact. "Best I can tell, these folk butchered an' restocked in short order, 'fore this place got sat on by bony frigs, yeah? Not a whole lot of folk left what could eat it, if'n they're dead or runnoft, yeah?" Keystone shoved another piece of steak into his mouth and nodded his head at the kitchen door, "Sodders back there? They left Femnal 'ere with a bloody scullery lad to handle everything by his lonesome, an' that poor bastich needs 'elp slicin' breads, he does." At this moment, the hulking culinarian would have loved to continue the staring contest, but he had a fried egg or two he needed to inhale.

With limited satisfaction, he noted that Femnal indeed did join them, and brought the beverages as requested. Keystone claimed a tankard of local ale for himself. He took a long pull before clanking it back upon the table nearby. A telltale bubbling sputtered from his stomach directly afterwards, compelling Keystone to turn his head to the side before a sizeable belch roared from his gullet; it lasted a mere three seconds, but echoed lightly in the mostly unoccupied public room. "Yeah, ah... 'xcuse." He looked to Femnal, "Many thanks for gettin' that stuff together for us all timely and whatnot, yeah? Couplea questions, though... One, I'm lookin' to provision what's left of my group for the 'Uge Soddin' Off Party what'll take us far from this place, whenever the right people get hammered broken an' bloody. You got tons back there. Giant metric wanktonnage, can be prepped for long use. We're gonna talk 'bout that." Another piece of steak down, followed by the large man ripping off a chunk of bread and hitting it liberally with whipped butter and minced herbs. The conversation he wanted to have with the Gnome proprietor was of a serious nature, but it was akin to a verbal fishing expedition. "Look, we've been out to Orc territory, yeah? I ain't thinkin' they're the ones what coulda woke up that much dead folks. Anyone here got that kinda pull?"

Thus spake the cosmos. And whatever going ons happened in the kitchen and bar were a mystery to Thomas. Eventually he'd snap out of his meditations to grab a meal and fuel is non-cosmic self. Keystone, as intimidating as the man was, did make some nice food. Heavy rich hearty things, though far better than the simple raw fruits and veggies. Crudités, quick and simple to prepare, and none to complex for a farmboy. Thomas wasn't a vegetarian, but he did tend to avoid eating animal flesh when possible. True it isn't horse meat, or at least to the best of his knowledge, but beef was still pieces of a cow, and ham a pig. Chickens were farm birds and mutton was far more cuddly when still alive. Some sympathy for the live of the animals that had to die so someone could enjoy a steak. And to eat it in such a wolfish manner, bread and butter was fine, but tearing away at flesh like a ravenous ghoul?

Ah yes, the undead ghoul. A bit of a problem was it not? Something which stirred in Thomas' mind. It was a curious question of who was making the trouble. One yet to be seen answered. Although Thomas was always a man who chased after knowledge and this vexing question of who nearly made it impossible to clear one's thoughts and connect with the celestial seas. A vampire? A necromancer? Someone with magic, but who was doing it? Certainly not Thomas, he had no training in the darker arts. That and his magic did not tap into the forces of life and undeath. Or could they? Something to consider experimenting on. After they leave this place. Or after He leaves this place. Thomas was still unsure of his role in the group. Consulting wizard maybe?

Taking after his Master Wolfgang...

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Sana chuckled a bit and nodded. "She is but shes worth the effort, few friends are as loyal as she," Sana said before taking another small bite of the potatoes and grunting slightly as she swallowed. It hurt a bit, more like it was sore than anything. Like muscles the day after a long run. Looking over at Keystone she cocked a brow at the amount of concern in his voice. Shaking her head she reached over and gave his knee a bit of a squeeze.

"No, I'll be okay. Just sore," she assured him before taking a long drink of water. Ale was off the menu for her right then. Though she knew she could hold her own when it came to drinking if she was going to have pained vocal chords she wanted to keep her wits fully about her this evening. Lord only knew what was going on.

Femnal sat down and let his feet hang over the edge of the chair. "Yeah, we can talk about that," he said in reference of the food in the back. He wasn't opposed to the idea and Keystone, even with the belching knew what he was doing. "Long as you don't pull what you pulled last time you were here," he warned. Sana stopped mid spoon and eyed Keystone for a minute.

"What did you do?" she asked with a slight smirk.

Outside headed away from the Apothecary and towards the Tavern Kyra nodded to Satilla as Ash padded along side them. "Yeah, thankfully." Sighing she glanced around the town for a minute before continuing on her way. "Sana saw something but she hasn't been able to tell us because of her throat. I hope she can talk enough now to let us know what it was. Plus I found out some things earlier I need to share with the group. Thing is I would have earlier but I ran into some guy who seemed to have information but he wouldn't take it to the constable. That didn't sit right with me, then I come back from the magistrates office and there is Njat sitting there just talking away with the man. According to Femnal he was letting this stranger know what we have been up to. That doesn't sit right with me. Some stranger, won't tell the local militia what is going on but wants all our information? And Njat volunteers it?" Kyra said shaking her head and stopping outside of the tavern before she glanced over towards Satilla.

"I can't exactly go telling our group what is up if he is just going to spout it off to anyone that passes. For all we know he just told our business to someone working for who ever is causing this. Even worse, the very person that was. If I can't trust him to keep his mouth shut, I can't keep him in the loop," she said before pushing the door open and looking around the tavern. Spotting Keystone and Sana sitting with Femnal and another she started to head over. Femnal looked like he was about to hork all over again.

Satilla Valen

“Yeah about Njat... He's like a big kid.” Satilla stated with agreement with Kyra when they were at the tavern's entrance.” I don't think he meant any harm with it, but I do understand your point. I will try talking to him about it later, but it's good plan indeed to keep him out of the loop for the moment. Not only for our own good, but also for his.” The witch was stating as they entered the tavern.

The place was just as they left it, maybe a little better, but the witch suspected the feeling of better was because their companions were comfortably positioned about. Satilla smiled as they headed towards Sana, Keystone and Femnal. She was tired and hungry, if they can grab a bite now and then get some sleep before she has to deal with sorting the medical supplies they bought, it would be great. She was still keeping her hands on her bag to keep anything from falling from it as they walked by towards the table.

“I'm thinking of having a quick meal now, I just need something in my stomach. As for the supplies, I will sort them afterwards.” She said to Kyra and looked at Skittles who was still following with it's little legs, keeping up with them.” You will keep the an eye on the bag.” She stated to a reply of a meow!

Ntaj continued towards the graveyard, reaching the morbid destination quickly enough. Not really anything in particular about this place; though it certainly had all the charm and qualities of a graveyard, it wasn’t particularly strange or unique at first glance. Most of the area has been cleared of grass, and various tombstones were erected to mark the graves. Upon closer examination, Ntaj could recognized some level of skill in the stonecarving; these weren’t merely large rocks placed as headstones, but meticulously carved and etched. Ntaj has seen better, but someone certainly has the skills to give the dead a proper headstone.

That aside, this Graveyard was fairly large. If Ntaj had to guess, this place contained a few generations worth of corpses for those who lived in Salarn. Not that he knew how long Salarn has been around, but if Ntaj had to guess, roughly about three generations, maybe a population in the one to two thousand range. Which was a really wild guess on his part considering that he’s never even seen the rest of Salarn, but the details in this instance wasn’t that important. What was more important was that this graveyard was big, and Ntaj needed to find out where the corpses were being dug out.

If what Maggy had said was true, that someone was stealing corpses, Ntaj figured they would try to steal relatively fresh ones. That is to say, corpses that have died within the year or so. Ntaj suppose collecting the bones of skeletons would suffice for a necromancer, considering that he did fight a lot of skeletons a few days ago, but Ntaj was going to try and start by looking for the most recent graves and look for any sign of digging. Ntaj would also try to look for anything out of the ordinary for a graveyard; footprints would be expected if the villagers visited their dead, but things like trails leading into the forest or more importantly, skeletal footprints, Ntaj would try to be aware of.

One thing was for certain, until Ntaj could get an idea of what corpses were being taken and the pattern, trying to lay a trap wouldn’t work. This place was too big for any of Ntaj’s traps to be of any use. Only if he knew or had a solid idea of what grave would be dug up next could Ntaj even begin to think about laying a trap in this place. So now he must investigate.

Cyne & Nor

Location: Graveyard & Crossed Swords Tavern
Interacting with:Ntaj & Sana and Keystone

"I know how to make traps for small game. Rabbits, squirrels and gophers mostly. I'm not sure what would work on one or more persons." In hindsight, suggesting that they lay a trap when it was fully possibly neither of them knew how was a fairly stupid thing to do. Regardless, they needed to do some scouting, and where Ntaj went off towards one direction, Cyne would split up and head in another. She looked for dug up graves, anything lying on the ground that may have come from somebody, and anything that might be out of the ordinary. If there were marked gravestones, she would read the ones of dug up graves. Maybe they would provide a hint on which bodies were selected and why.

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"If'n ye say so, lass." Nor tore into his steak and gave it a good what-for as everyone else talked about adventure-type stuff he really didn't give two shits about. It was only after he had consumed roughly half the meat that he bothered to even think about becoming part of the conversation again. He scooted his seat closer to Sana and whispered to her.

"Hope ye don't mind me askin, but are you some sorta noble or somethin, lass?" Normally he wouldn't bother with subtlety in a place like this, but he didn't like the look in the gnome's eye and he didn't want to take the gamble on how quickly he would backstab the rest of the present company.