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Location: Crossed Swords Inn & Tavern

Interacting With: Sana, Nor, Femnal, Kyra, Satilla

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Hell of a question from Sana. Not that he hadn't heard the query before, although it was usually inflected with less curiosity and more contemptible dismay. The phrase "What did you do?" was generally delivered as more of a chunk of angry rhetoric, resulting in either a hamfisted and insincere apology or a rude gesture on his part. Still, she did honestly want an explanation. Rather than hear it from Femnal (who was certain to have specific bias), he'd summarize as best as his non-standard descriptive methods would allow.

"Well ya see, it started eatin' turnips and 'ard bread on the road..." Keystone paused his vicious attack upon his meal. Before he spoke again, the Inn's door opened to admit two other members of their group, Kyra and Satilla. He waved them over with the loud invitation of "Oi! C'mon over an' grab some steaks n' stuff whilst I regale Sana with a story 'bout what went down in this very building just last week!" Keystone nudged a platter of his handiwork an inch or two on the table in their general direction.

"Right then. Just ploddin' into town. I was circling about to find a main road headin' north so's to get m'self back home. Haven't been in ages. Just got outta a skirmish 'gainst the Undead, led by this utter fonging wankstain what didn't have the good sense to stay deceased the first time 'round. Nor the second. Third time's the charm, though..." Keystone's eyes grew dark, his more or less jovial look (for him) turning into something grave. It seemed like it was a long time ago, but it really wasn't. He had friends there. Had, past tense. Keystone walked away from that conflict completely alone, the one survivor of his group. That made it the second time he was the lone survivor of an otherwise competent group against a horde of previously living opponents.

He shook it off, or rather tried to, giving himself a moment by gulping back half of his tankard. He continued slowly at first, but in short order got himself back up to swearing, narrative form. "Anyhow, ain't been eatin' such a balanced set of victuals at the time, y'see; been outta fresh greens for longer'n I cared to admit. Add to it, I ain't had nothin' to munch on all bloody day. 'Fice it to say, My innards was a breeding ground for all manner of unholy spawns, birthed of flammable arse vapors."

"This time was powerful special, mind ya. I'm figurin' on chowing back a huge meal what I didn't 'have to prepare myself, turns out to be the twaddle they's servin' here. Soon as I get m'gut full and settle into a bath (nice n' sudsy), I'm performin' rabid butt-labor to a bloody plethora of demonic arse-barks what threaten to split me open an' toss me out the window. Gods help anyone lightin' a pipe downstairs, too. Bacon-damned murderous, that one."

"Course, it sorta made matters worse when I started usin' them breathin' techniques and harnessing m'bloody Chi to stabilize the process and get the brunt of it out my arsepit without blowing a ring out or rupturin' a vessel in my bloody forenoggin. Turns out, I was soundin' the trumpet horn what blows open the door to the Abyss. Buggers heard it 'cross town. Little kidrens and small animals fled. Horses and dogs shied 'way, like it was pure unnatural. Then the smell wafted downward, damned near claimed lives in this room we're all in. Bloody awful."

"Femnal knows proper 'bout that, don't he?" he quipped, elbowing in his general direction. "Splatted a full jug of creamy tan gut-gravy all over our merchant friend, Cremmy. That rotten bastich..."

Growling.

It appeared the void was hungry though it filled him. The power of the emptiness coursing in the blood, attuned not the stars nor sun nor moon but to the inky void that the celestial spheres floated within. The cosmic nihility that swallowed existence itself, neither evil nor malign in itself of itself, but truly hungered to be fulfilled. As the purposefulness of empty vessel is in its potential to no longer be empty, so to is the sorcerer who serves as a conduit between the mundane and the arcane. Channeled through their very being, offering glimpses into what was, what is and what could be at any moment in reality should the arcane barriers not be put into place. The occulscience and metaphysics of these things difficult to penetrate as the nature of magic is to be an exception the rules such that it becomes a rule of exceptions. So did the force of the void threaten the thin veil that was Thomas's flesh from this world and utter destruction? Was it the ravenous beast which devoured entire galaxies whole that rumbled within his core?

Nope. He was hungry. Three hours of meditation to reflect on whatever it was, coupled with a slight buzz from the drink earlier (which explained Ziggy). And supposedly the room came with a meal, to which after a quick check of his personal effects, the Sorcerer boy crept back from his shared rooms to the barside tavern as best he could to avoid being entangled by the Trio. Funny, one would think that after a few hours apart and some reflection, Thomas would feel a little better about the whole nearly accidently kill Sana thing. But those two ladies reminded him of someone he'd rather stay away from in his past. More determined women who saw Thomas as a danger to the ones they loved. It wasn't really his fault now, it was almost as if he was cursed by the very sources that powered him. Unless of course they sought him back. A nod of acknowledgement should suffice if their eyes met his, and a sheepish hello, else Thomas would just saunter over to the bar to take his food.

There was Keystone, and Sana, and Kyra, Satilla, the Dwarf. With the 'Queensbury Rules' gent recounting a tale of epic revelry by the sounds of and looks of it. Attack at the chef's meal which looked pretty damn delicious to hungry eyes, and made Thomas wonder who they had in the kitchen that could out cook Keystone? Tankard in hand, jovially spinning yarn in his accent, before the ladies and the barkeep. Oh and the dwarf too, it was hard to not miss him given his stature.

"Hrm, wonder where Ntaj and Cyne gone off to." Mid-spoonful of his meal, an actually pretty appetizing meal. Definitely not something he'd expected out of a small village inn supposedly plagued by undead. Something something Soylent Green. Hopefully the orcish ones didn't run off too, their rag-tag group was small enough already. Something something Orclent Green?

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Kyra stopped in her tracks and looked over towards Satilla, a rare smile came to her lips and she rested her hand on Satilla's shoulder. "Thank you," she said before the smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. Sana looked over to them two as they came over and found herself freeze for a moment. Kyra smiling was beyond rare and felt rather.. wrong. Not that she didn't want to see her friend smile but it was like seeing a unicorn riding a dragon; it took you a second or a year to let it sink in.

As the women moved over to the table with the others, things in the graveyard were calm. All the graves were empty and had been for at least a few days. New bodies were burned to dust and then the bones were ground down. It was what the town felt was best. There were no foot prints coming and going, at least nothing really new. Seemed at least one or two people had walked through today but it didn't seem as if anything was disturbed more than it had been. The place was quiet but not too quiet, not like one would figure with everything going on. Militia were patrolling, as they were all over town but all the pair got was a quick glance from them before the men moved on. It seemed they were not too concerned with the two that were there. Maybe it was the fact they weren't holding shovels or something. Either way they were left to their own devices.

As Kyra sat down Sana they exchanged a little hello nod between the two as Sana went back to eating but that was put on pause for a moment when Mor asked if she was royalty. Sana cocked a brow high as she glanced over to him. Her first instinct was to say no and laugh but the question had caught her off guard. Thing was, she was, in a way. She had been set to take over for her people, trained to be their next leader. To run things and sit on the council. Yet she had never fulfilled that position. She had left and by the time she came back across the Rawns, most all were dead. Only she and her younger cousin remained. "Yeah, kind of but not in a traditional sense, and not anything they know about," she said truthfully before she looked back over towards Kyra who was watching her. Kyra knew the deal but it wasn't anything to her. They were childhood friends.

Then everything kind of stopped as the two looked over towards Keystone as he wove his tale. Sana half felt sorry for him and half was doing her best not to burst with laughter. Kyra on the other hand wasn't finding the story humorous at all and it was clear on her face as her nose crinkled. Femnal was in the same boat as Kyra and it was half way through the story when he started dry heaving from the memory. When Keystone finished Femnal bolted and ran out the front door, waddling as he went, his hand flying to his mouth. The sound of alabaster breaking from his gullet and hitting the ground outside echoed through the tavern.

Sana lost it then and fell out laughing, long and loud laughter that hurt but she didn't care as she leaned against Keystone to brace herself. Kyra eyed Keystone and her hand came up swiftly and nailed him in the back up the head with a thwap. "You just had to bring that up didn't ya?" she said as she grumbled and sat back down. Sana, was still laughing her ass off and nearly fell onto the floor; she would have if she hadn't had a death grip on Keystones tunic.

Satilla Valen

From the moment they entered, the resident cook of their group was as noisy as ever. Fine enough his invitation for a steak was the most inviting thing she could hear right now, it brought a huge smile on her face. In fact her attention was so grabbed by the thoughts of food that she completely missed Skittles meowing probably cause he was also hungry the poor thing. First htough they had to walk over to the table where the most curious of tale was being told. It was a new one for Satilla also since she joined later.

The hand on her shoulder and Kyra's smile came as quite the pleasant surprise to the witch who didn't expect it. Now that she thought about it how many times had she seen Kyra smile so far? She couldn't actually think of it. Was it because of her memories being kind of hazy because of the excitement of nearly being killed in combat? Anyhow she returned her thoughts to the present as she returned a nod to Kyra when they were moving to the table for their meals.

That was one mighty story that Keystone was telling. Mighty and confusing!! Satilla kind of got it, but also sort of didn't understand quite everything Keystone was telling in his way of speaking. Still what she did understand proved quite interesting! Granted it wasn't something she'd call fun exactly. She watched as Femnal ran outside to throw up. Satilla was glad she wasn't present at that event though.

“Sana, is your throat alright?” The witch asked with slight concern. Granted that crazy old priest/monk guy seemed to have healed her, but as a healer herself she was concerned about such long and deep laughing and it's possible effects on Sana's throat that wasn't too fine just few hours ago.

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Location: Crossed Swords Inn & Tavern

Interacting With: Sana, Nor, Femnal, Kyra, Satilla

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Keystone remained motionless as Sana used him as a brace to keep from falling over with laughter. He was fully aware that his natural way of speaking was considered quaint, even humorous to others, but when it was applied to a near-horror story involving his hindquarters (and that which issued therefrom), there was total understanding as to why someone would come close to hitting the floor, gasping with laughter.

Unless you had been there.

Yes, those who were actually present for the Intestinal Rebellion of the Crossed Swords Inn & Tavern might possibly have reacted in the same manner as a veteran soldier, having been traumatized by what he had witnessed, been asked to relive his experiences. It is why he fully understood why Femnal ran for the front door and began heaving his guts upon the ground out front. Understood, but still got a chuckle. Oddly, Keystone had a sense of deja-va about the whole incident.

On the other hand, the last time this happened, Kyra hadn't smacked him. Keystone's head snapped forward, and his desire to chuckle evaporated. Even as Sana was in danger of falling off of her chair in the midst of a laughing fit, during which he was utilized as an anchor, Keystone's head slowly turned toward Kyra with a look of restrained annoyance. "We ain't near chummy enough for that, Kyra. Not yet." His voice was serious, as was the glare in his eyes. The unspoken sentence in his face seemed to be in the arena of "Not without reprisal". His face immediately softened to something merely sarcastic as he jerked his thumb back toward Sana, saying, "'Sides, that one asked." He glanced back at the spasming Gypsy and offered her a hand to steady herself.

Keystone looked up at Kyra and nodded to the food. In a much cheerier voice (for him), he suggested, "C'mon then. Grab a plate an' have at it. We can talk business, if you like. Bout time to start thinkin' on what comes next, innit?" Keystone had been through things like this in the past. It rarely ended well, in his experience. The scene in Salarn didn't look like an isolated incident, as things involving Necromancy seldom were. Unless it was, they had to prepare for more loss of life. In Keystone's mind, this was the time that everyone capable of fighting needed to, else everyone in town needed to evacuate. Now all they had to figure out was who to fight, or where to run. "After a good meal, o'course."

The big man could hear the continued sound of Femnal's retching. He almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

The graveyard was vast, but it was easy enough for Ntaj to find nothing of note. Most of these graves were unmarked beyond being there, and no real signs of heavy travel. Was Maggie perhaps lying when he was told that there were bodies dug up around here? Or perhaps he was lied to? Ntaj figured that maybe he ought to find the gravekeeper around here, or whoever Maggie got his rumor from. They'd likely point Ntaj in the right direction. So Ntaj needed to do more investigations, perhaps ask around. At the very least he could try and see if there's any trails leading away from the graveyard. Footprints that didn't seem like they belonged; either because they were skeletal, nonhuman, or simply going in a strange direction. It had rained fairly hard these past few days, so either the tracks would be fresh or they would have already been washed away. Only one way to find out.

For good measure Ntaj also took out his Holy Water Flail. Perhaps Kyra's paranoia was getting the better of him too, but he felt like he was being watched. He looked around for any birds or creatures staring at him, particularly ravens and such. He's heard plenty of stories of evil necromancers using their familiars to spy on potential prey, and this situation would be perfect for such an occasion. Even the militia patrol here could easily fall under the influence of a mage's spells. He doubt many people in this town were particularly strong willed considering how morose they all were. Two strong but isolated adventurers, in an area too far from others for their screams to be heard, with no one knowing where exactly they went. Ntaj was half hoping that Kyra was right and that Maggie was a spy, and he'd show up and try to kill Ntaj. Kyra could leave feeling right and Ntaj would get to kill someone. Putting these thoughts aside Ntaj started looking for tracks around the grave site.

Cyne & Nor

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

Well the idea that they'd find something worth finding in the graveyard quickly went up in flames. Any graves that had been dug up were already done so awhile ago, and it didn't seem like much anybody had been through here since. And even if they had, any evidence of wrongdoing had probably been washed away from the rain. Trying to catch a necromancer or servant of one here would be stalking game that had already migrated. Knowing that, Cyne decided the next move should be to get Ntaj and either get her shopping done, or head back to the tavern. Speaking of which, where did he get to? She looked around for a bit until she spotted him, weapon out looking around like a cornered rat.

"Ntaj," she called as she walked towards him. "What are you doing?" Maybe he needed help more than she had previously thought. If his actions these past few hours were any indication, stress might be getting the better of him. She made a mental note to keep an eye out on him. Somebody as strong as him going through a mental breakdown would be the last thing anybody here needed.

---

"Ah, I see. Don't ye worry lass, yer secret's safe with me." Not quite a jackpot, but his senses were on-point. Any kind of royal, even non-traditional types had contacts even if they had no great material wealth. And it was always, always a good idea to keep on good terms with those sorts as long as possible. A well-developed network had a way of paying dividends that even a pile of gold couldn't always top. Well, if he were to earn her trust, he'd probably need to hang out around her for awhile. Looks like he'd be working with this group after all.

Scheming aside, Nor listened intently to Keystone's tale of intestinal turmoil. It was the sort of story that he'd swap with his comrades back during his days in the service, course they wouldn't talk nothing about using Chi or any of that hokey hogwash, but the essence of the tale was right in line. It almost made him feel a bit forlorn. Twas a simpler, more naive time. However, his ears pricked up when he heard a certain name mentioned at the end.

"Hey, that 'Cremmy' ye just mentioned. That wouldn't happen tae be a nickname would it?" If these people knew where Cremwise was, being able to settle a personal score might be added onto that expanding list of "Profit I Didn't Expect To Make in the Boonies." And oh, would payback feel so, so good.

Vomit.

You'd be surprised of the many uses wizards had for vomit. There were spells to induce vomiting to magically expel swallowed materials and precious or dangerous ingredients. And of course some potion or ritual reagents included vomit from otherworldly sorts. Ever shifting protoplasm from the foulest cloisters of the undead. There too were hexes and curses that maligned the victim to vomit blood or slugs depending on the severity of the spell. But a good disgusting tale or memory could leave a person in enough disgust to hack up their insides too. Unless Keystone was a mage who had somehow woven a spell into his story, to cause Femnal the great discomfort to start heaving. Spewing forth profane expulsions as if he were a sailor spewing out profanities. Poor chap, the boy cringed to hear the wretched retching.

"Hey um... Sorry again Sana for the whole... Potion thing... Was everything Okay?" Thomas finally mustered up the courage to confront the trio. The tale seemed to be finished, and Thomas approached with some slight hesitation. "I've been thinking about the whole undead problem, and I don't have a foggiest idea of what's behind it. But if I could suggest we start trying to figure out if the sources of the necromancy is arcane or divine, or naturally unnatural. I mean for someone or something that can resurrect a bunch of skeletons, control them, and make them explode, isn't it a bit much to annoy a small town and orc encampment? Unless there's something significant hidden here or some politick to exploit..."

"And the food's pretty darn good here. Maybe it's a secret recipe that they're after" A comment trying to jest and mask his caving spine. He wasn't too ready to face up to Keystone, Kyra and Sana quite that yet, not without Ntaj or Cyne, and Satilla supporting him. He had yet after all to prove his usefulness to the group, well there was that tidbit of recalling what that red smoke was, but he really ought to be more than just a shabby creature compendium.

Satilla Valen

Sana's throat state aside for a moment, the fact that Keystone suggested they talk business was pretty important one. There were some things that could be done considering the impending undead doom, but there were so many unknowns that it was hard to know what may happen. She didn't want to end up dead and then raised to do the bidding of some shady cloaked person with maniacal behavior and very cliché laugh. She took a seat by the table, pulling her now filled with medical supplies bag onto her lap to be sure nothing falls out of it.

“Well whatever we do, this time around I've stocked up decently.” Satilla stated slightly moving her left knee up and down, making the bottles and potions in her bag jingle lightly.” I'm now prepared to treat wider variety of conditions.” She said with a proud smile of a healer!

She also paid notice to Thomas and his words. As usual his way of interacting with people was quite awkward, but he didn't really mean any harm by it. He was just an unlucky and not really used to people young man in Satilla's eyes. Though his words did made sense. Why here of all places to have necromancy problems. They had to hear an explanation from Sana to get more information, but considering they had a new suspicious person there it made her wonder if Kyra would allow Sana to talk about it.

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Out in the graveyard there were not much for tracks to be found. The ones left by the militia were easy enough to pick out. They stayed along the outer edge of the area that was once the grave yard. And the tracks left by Cyneburg and Njat themselves were rather obvious. There were other tacks there that seemed at least fresh enough to have been made earlier that day. Both sets lead out of the graveyard and back towards town. Ones that would eventually get lost in the mirade of other wet roaded tracks left by the rest of the town. The graveyard was not isolated, just on the outskirts on the Northwest side - the temple could be seen directly to the east less than a few minutes walk away. The sun was set now and with the winter coming, the chill in the air was setting in quickly. The smell of snow hung in the air, it would be there within a few days time.

Over in the tavern Kyra smirked at Keystone. Considering she hadn't hit the shit out of him the night he released the kraken she figured he had gotten off easy. The fact he had made poor Femnal vomit all over again was not doing the group any favors. It was the only inn in town, if smacking some sense into the big lug kept the owner from kicking them out he could take the smack to his ego as far as she was concerned.

Sana couldn't help but keep laughing as Kyra smacked Keystone looking over towards Satilla and nodding a bit while she tried to get her laughter under control. Then Thomas came over and at first Kyra was at least grateful that he was apologizing to Sana. Then he pulled a Njat and she had had it. Her fists curling up before she slammed one onto the table with rather brutish force.

"Does no one in this fucking group know how to keep their traps shut? Or is it just common practice for you folk to go airing your business to anyone and everyone around?" she growled. Lowering her head as her palm spread out from the fist and rested on the table she shook her head. "Sana, these folk are going to get you killed because of their stupidity..."

That sobered Sana's laughter rather quickly. Righting herself she looked at Thomas and sighed. She knew what Kyra was saying, you didn't go airing the details of whatever this was with people sitting around you didn't know. They all hardly knew each other other than Sana and Kyra. Sana knew Keystone but they were still in the getting to know you portion of life. sure they had shared a fight or two together with the rest over the last week but that hardly made them bosom buddies.

"Kyra, it'll be okay..." Sana said as she reached over to her old friend.

"You don't know that. We are in the middle of a tavern, god only knows who is who at these other tables, much less at this one but no one seems to take notice of that. How the fuck any of these people have stayed alive this long is beyond me."

"Kyra, calm down. Come on, eat, have a drink, it's been a long trip. You need to get some rest, probably more than the rest of us. When was the last time you slept?" Sana asked, trying to get Kyra to at least sit down. Kyra's face looking like she was about to gut someone.

"Fuck that, we'll talk later. I'm going to check on some things. We will talk later. Alone." With that Kyra grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder before storming out of the tavern. Sana let out a long huff as she blew the hair out of her face.

"Shit...." Sana muttered under her breath. Resting her elbow on the table she tried to get things back on track. That was after she said one thing. "She might be a bitch but she is right." She eyed both Keystone and Thomas. Thomas had spouted off details, Keystone had brought up the subject in passing. She knew Kyra was taking this a lot harder than she normally would but that was because of how bad Sana's condition had been over the last few days. They grew up together, they might as well be family. Sana could only guess she would be acting the same was as Kyra if the situation had been reversed.

"The guys name was Cremwise, other than that I won't be saying anything else." Standing up, she grabbed her things, a bit shaky on her feet but she managed. "I'll be upstairs." Giving a bit of a nod and squeezing Keystones shoulder a little before she walked off towards the stairs at the back of the main room and then headed up them slowly. She just hoped Kyra didn't take matters into her own hands. Kyra was a damn fine leader usually, thing was she tended to put herself into danger because she didn't trust people. It had taken Sana years to gain Kyra's trust.

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Location: Crossed Swords Inn & Tavern

Interacting With: Sana, Thomas, Satilla

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Deep down, Keystone figured that Kyra was a talented and inspiring woman who rose to her position of authority within the Elven kingdom due to merit and ability. He held onto this belief despite her continued explosions of temper. The big man was once a slave to his tides of indomitable rage. Moreso, anyway. It was a process. Maybe it would do no small amount of good for the woman to walk the path of the Monk for a year. Keystone could even help in this endeavor. Of course, not everyone was suited to setting foot after foot in front of one another down that particular path.

But for right then, Keystone sighed heavily and shook his head. Yeah, maybe she was right. But all this drama really wasn't helping matters. Part of him was just a little jealous, too; if anyone was the type to make a scene and storm off angrily, it really ought to have been him. There was a subtle art to it, if one wanted to use it for intimidation factor later on. It was a perfectly reasonable tactic to make people pliant. But he suspected that Kyra's explosion and exit were less purposed than that. Sana made a good point as well, as Keystone agreed to openly after Kyra's exit. "Bloody well right. Girl'd do good havin' a meal an' rest. Mayhap some personal attentions, if y'take my meaning, but I ain't sayin' that faceward at 'er." He shook his head as if to illustrate his point.

Keystone gestured to the food again, silently suggesting that everybody eat up. Anyone who spent more than a day in town, or who had spoken to "Look, I says we dummy up like Miss Kyra's screamin' on about. Damage done is done, addin' any more's just foolish. Let's talk on this in more private environs after a while, yeah? What d'you lot reckon on it?" He thought to his room, already purchased and available for use. It might suffice, unless there was another more fitting one already reserved for someone in their group, such as they were.

Then he noticed the pressure on his shoulder provided by the scarred Gypsy. Sana had decided to take her leave of the table, moving unsteadily to the stairs. Etiquette and propriety weren't exactly his stronger points. Perhaps this is why it took him until she was already climbing the stairs to offer his assistance. He rose from the table and took a couple of steps toward her. Pausing in the common area, he spoke plainly, "You ain't lookin' quite tops yet, Miss Sana. Lemme give you a arm to lean on till you're settled in, alright?"

Ntaj looked over to Cyneburg when she approached. "Graveyards creepy. No signs, but never know for sure. Mages have many way to watch." Ntaj looked around for the birds that could be a familiar. Or perhaps bugs like centipedes instead. The witch who trained him had a scorpion as a familiar, and as far as Ntaj knew that was a bug too. That being said, Ntaj had to admit that so far his investigating wasn't leading him anywhere. They've found some pits in the ground and where the graveyard was at. At least he had enough time looking around to get a good idea where he could hide for a stakeout. Assuming of course they'd find anything during their time here, if Ntaj stays for long at all. For all he knew their next clue could come knocking at their door.

Sighing, Ntaj did put his flail away. Even if there was someone watching him, it wasn't as if there was anything he could do about it right now. It's not as if he can just go and kill every bird or vermin that was around here. With no discernible trail and no real evidence to follow they'll have to go with his original plan to stake out the place, assuming what they were looking for was even here at all. They've only found a few graves that might've been dug up, and surely that wasn't going to be enough to create a single undead horde. "We go back. Nothing here. Unless you need something?"

Cyne & Nor

Location: Graveyard & Crossed Swords Tavern
Interacting with:Ntaj, Satilla & Mostly Thomas

Cyne took a long, hard look at Ntaj before responding to a word he'd said. Her expression could be read as concern, disbelief or even a soft contempt, but in reality she had merely zoned out for a bit. Non-stop travel and constantly fighting/worrying about fighting did a number on one's mental stamina.

"I've got some things I'd like to pick up, but I'd rather eat and sleep somewhere not soaked through. Shopping can happen tomorrow." Sure she was perfectly comfortable sleeping out in the wilderness, but nobody shy of an amphibian wanted to make their bed in the wet muck. And normally she foraged for supplies she needed, which is what a druid was "supposed" to do, but turning down a chance to use what was available to her would be needlessly adherent to the ideal to the point of foolishness.

When she arrived back at the tavern she found a lot fewer people than she'd expected. She approached Satilla and asked her where everyone else was.

---

Nor for one watched all the drama unfold passively. He wanted to get more information about Cremwise, but he didn't really have the opportunity to continue investigating the subject. Furthermore, he wasn't part of the group, and as far as he was concerned, the moon-haired lass was completely in the right. He had gotten to learn a significant amount of information both about the group and the situation they'd found themselves in within the span of what? A couple hours at most? He was a humble tradesman looking to turn a profit, but if he were some malignant entity who sought to do these people, he had little doubt that he would have been able to get even more pertinent information had he so desired. But without everyone else there, all the remaining food was left to him. And the mage-types too, he guessed.

Speaking of which, the boy from earlier seemed like he could use a sage bit of advice. He was the type of fool who'd step on a bear trap and not know why he couldn't move. If Nor was to get any closer to the group, he'd have to earn their trust and the lad would probably be a good place to start. Furthermore, reducing the chances of them all dying due to carelessness was an additional benefit.

"C'mere lad. Take a seat and grab some steak. I think I've got some advice that could help ye out." The dwarf patted the empty seat to his right. Hopefully the kid would take the offer.

Satilla Valen

Satilla couldn't help it and placed a hand on her face the moment Thomas opened his mouth. There it was. The naive orc was not present right now, but the immature sorcerer was. This was just what the two of them talked about while returning from the apothecary, but the witch didn't get a chance to talk with either of them before Thomas started speaking.

She was not surprised that Kyra stormed off. She probably needed to cool down her head and felt like staying here would make matters worse maybe? The witch liked Kyra and respected her from their journey so far. Satilla also knew that Kyra was so right about this. No one knew who was listening and there was little to do about it now that the cats were mostly out of the bag.

“We can do that, Skittles will secure the door!” She stated with a smile, knowing her smart little kitty while not really too useful for anything else beside helping her memorize spells each day, was nifty thing that could very well stay by a door and react whenever someone was on the other side it would hiss or something.” He's sensitive to unknown presences. Like most animals actually.” Then there was also the possibility it could be taken as a joke which worked too.

“I will take you on that offer, Keystone.” She smiled, reaching for a small piece of food. Satilla wasn't too hungry after that story, but needed to get something in her body cause she was running on bare energy reserves by now.

The discovery of the Auroplumbic Transformation Sequence is a story told to every young apprentice.
The series of equations which govern the spell itself was useful in providing the recipe for the philosopher's stone.
As well as the lethal spell of Bigby's Midas Touch, which summoned a spectral hand that turned anything it touched into gold.
The tale, though often embellished and certainly the truth lost to time, each story goes something alone the line of this:
Once in the early days of wizardry, a clever, aspiring, apprentice sought to glean the secrets of transmutation from his/her master.
Though told the art of turning flesh to stone, or bark to steel, or whatever other tampering (s)he had in mind was particularly tricky.
His/her master refused to teach such a dangerous art, as back in those times, transmutation required powers beyond most mages.
Playing with the fundamental fabric of the planes after all, was the way it used to be done by rewriting reality directly.
The clever apprentice however wrote upon his/her mentor's writing desk half of an equation (s)he derived in her studies.
Though simple, it was a novel approach that the master mistook for the elder's own and by the time the master finished it.
The apprentice had already turned his/her master to a statue made of gold, inheriting all that the cautious wizard never gave him/her.
Thus, the lesson imparted here is not of the apprentice's treachery, but how to...
Offer Lead to Obtain Gold.

"Hrmph." Thomas shook his head, what did information did they know that the enemy didn't already know? Shutting up and not discussing the nature of the beast was a great way to limit one's resources and knowledge pool. Imagine if books were never written, although some technically were in sense black books which were cloistered away for safety or concern. Yet they were vastly ill-informed and lacked any sort of knowledge that could further discern what was happening, so unless someone has had a divine vision or began talking to the dead, there was no harm in letting people know just how little they knew. Conjecture and guesses, nothing shy of speculation, pooling an offered tidbit to see if anyone cared to pick up on the dangle. But some people had their secrets, and preferred to keep them that Thomas guessed, Kyra might be screaming and slamming her fists, but honestly it wasn't like she knew anything more about the situation. Or did she and didn't care to let anyone else know? Where they all supposed to just leave it be? It's not like they discovered any crucial information, and more importantly, if and if someone had been listening, then they'd glean more information about the web of shadows surrounding their mystery in response no? Even if it means another tussle. And then it was better to cloak yourself in knowledge than scraps of armor.

"Didn't you just hear her outburst? I'm not supposed to trust you, or anyone else here who didn't come in with us." Thomas looked at Nor with a questioning glance. Like really? Did you not just hear the murderous arrow-thrusting girl just make quite a commotion? Wasn't he sitting at the table? "Besides, I'm not too keen on Steak, or getting on her bad side, again. So if you'll excuse me sir I'd rather talk with our healer." Thomas tried to be as cordial as possible, brushing aside the dwarf's ill-timed offer and passing up the smorgasbord of meat to sit with Satilla given that Kyra, Sana, and Keystone had gone off. One after the other like a mouse chased by a cat chased by a dog.

"Um... Satilla, are we... Um... Are we okay?" Well this was probably the most awkward bit this evening. And there was a man vomiting up his insides over yon. Thomas slightly at a loss for words, given everything. Satilla was the group healer, and more so the only other person at the table Thomas could talk with evidently approved by Kyra. "I-I mean are we, like, you and I, is our... Relationship, not a relationship relationship but like friendship? Err I mean uh, are we okay? I'd rather not have you mad at me, and if it means anything to you I'm sorry in advance..." A twisted grimace, hoping for Satilla not to bear a grudge against him. How's that for etiquette and propriety? Thomas could talk ad nauseum about magic and magical theory, but feelings, emotions and relationships? Despite his usual charisma the boy was a tad inept at casual social interactions.

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Sana let out a weary sigh as her hand rested on the banister of the stairs. She worried about Kyra, about her doing something frivolous and taking matters into her own hands so the others would remain safe. It would not be the first time but it could be the last. She understood what Kyra was saying. Sure people in the tavern now knew what they had been up against because of the loose lips of others. This was bad enough. Yet some did not seem to realize that to keep speaking, to make plans in such a public venue gave whoever was behind all this the upper hand. They would know what was coming before they were even able to make a move. It was stupidity and nativity at it's finest. It could, it probably would end up causing the death of at least one of them.

She saw the look and heard Thomas's voice. It irked her, especially considering the damage he had already done. If she had felt better she would have called him out on it but knew it would only fall on a deaf and closed mind. You wrapped yourself in knowledge, you did not give knowledge to your enemy. The roles were usually reversed. Kyra was usually the level headed one and Sana the brash one that let what was on her mind fly freely. Yet the roles were different now and again she understood why. Kyra had nearly lost the one person in this world she considered family at this point. How would the others react to see their sibling in such a state? Perhaps none of them had any that they would die for. Such a pity if that were the case.

Hearing Keystone behind her, Sana turned slightly and looked over to him. Nodding towards him and holding out her hand for him to take. She thought back to when they had met. She had dealt with a man who thought she would deal in trade. Trade of her body for his favor. She had put his face through the stained wood of a bar top for the insult. Keystone and her did not exactly get off on the right foot but they had fought along side each other and when the fog had taken her once again she felt they had parted on at least a neutral ground. But that was them. She looked at Keystone, he was a large and imposing man; a look that could make many think that he was not as intelligent as most but from the looks of things he was at lest far more intelligent than the more learned in the group when it came to the art of war and battle. Books were all well and good but without life experience they meant nothing. Thomas was proof of that.

"Alright, come on now. You said they would have a bath waiting. Better get me to it before the water cools," Sana said as her hand remained out for him to help her up the stairs and to the room he had reserved for them for the evening.

Cyne & Nor

Location: Graveyard & Crossed Swords Tavern
Interacting with:Ntaj, Satilla & Mostly Thomas

Cyne looked blankly as she was ignored outright by Satilla. Well, if anything important had happened, she figured that she would be able to learn about it later. For the time being, it was time to get a full night's sleep for once. Leaving the conversation scene, she purchased a room and made her way there. It was a humble thing. There was a bed, a table and a couple of chairs, but little else in the way of adornments.

Part of her just wanted to strip nude and flop onto the bed, but gods knew when the last time the beds were cleaned and what people going into them in the meantime. No, she would have to do with removing the heavier outer garments and then flopping onto the predetermined resting place. The bed was by no means "of quality," but for one who was used to tree branches, dirt and stone, it was like sleeping on a cloud.

---

Try to emotionally manipulate a young lad by giving him proper life advice and what do you get? Fucking nothing. Ungrateful brats. Well not much else was going to get done today, so the proper course of action would be to retire for the night. Nor inhaled a few of the remaining eggs before he got around to actually buying the room. It was a proper dump, but he didn't come into Salarn expecting the royal treatment. He just needed a place to lay his head for the night that wasn't next to a mule for once. It would do.

---

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Location: Crossed Swords Inn & Tavern, 2F Private Room

Interacting With: Each Other

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"Right." Keystone responded, eager to get himself and Sana settled in, and by extension, reasonably defended for the evening. Totally misreading the intent of her outstretched hand, the large man stepped inside of it, causing her arm to settle behind his neck. "Up we go then..." he mumbled, bending down and wrapping his arm around Sana's hips. He lifted her easily from the staircase and started up, his other hand trailing the banister (just in case). It certainly took less time than grabbing her hand and giving her an assist.

Sana hadn't been expecting that. Cocking a brow as she was lifted off the ground and basically toted up the stairs. What she had expected but a small assist. Him taking her hand, giving her something to lean against, make sure she didn't end up taking a tumble backwards and falling on her ass. Yet there she was, being lifted as if she was nothing in weight and hoisted up to the top of the stairs. Smirking some she was grateful he wasn't at least tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her like a sake of potatoes. Last thing she needed was her rear-end sticking straight up in the air right then.

Once at his reserved room, Keystone noticed a couple of interesting points. First off, his coat and pack had been delivered as requested. He made a mental note to make sure all of his belongings were accounted for, but that was an issue for a little later. Secondly, this was not the same room he used a week ago. It wasn't much bigger, though. Secondly, there were two (near identical) beds rather than one, as requested, but they were pushed together for the sake of saving space. And Third, the claw foot tub that was present in his earlier accommodations was in a separate, adjoining room. This one was right in the room. To one side, but right there, nonetheless.

Looking around the room slowly Sana's brow rose a bit more. Just what in the world was going on. She didn't have a problem sharing a room with the big brute, (I'll call the Brute Squad. I'm on the Brute Squad. You are the Brute Squad!) but pushed together beds and the bath right there in the room, not even a screen to be had? This was a turn of events she hadn't expected. His second unexpected action of the evening. Did he not know about the room or was this planned? She gave Keystone the benefit of the doubt on this subject. The man might be damn fine in battle but his enticements of the fairer sex, from what she had noticed, didn't involve a romantic setting. She half figured him more of a club them over the head and drag them to the cave type.

The thought crossed Keystone's mind that he underestimated the value of silver this far out in the sticks, and his last room was probably one of the better ones, considering the amount he offered and the tiny amount of change returned. No matter, the bed was a welcome sight. If he could effectively bar the door and window from unwelcome visitors, he might even be able to get some actual rest. Of course, he doubted it greatly. Most undead didn't care if the sun was out or not, definitely on the lower end of the "rotting bastard" hierarchy. If they were under the control of a reasonably thinking master, it might serve as an very effective time to attack without penalty while the puny Humans were stumbling about in the dark. Hence, the barricading of the door and window, if possible.

A decent showing of steam rose from the bathtub, indicating that they were indeed not too late. But with this in the room with them, there arose an interesting predicament. "Ah, Miss Sana?" he began, setting her down on her feet gently. "You want I should stick around, or you think I ought leave? Makes no nevermind to me, mind you, but I ain't wantin' to piss you off. And I ain't keen on gettin' slapped at in th'face, y'understand."

Sana looked at the bath and went to try to move but she felt the fatigue setting in. This was about to get really awkward really fast. Maybe she should have asked Satilla to help her, or even Cyneburg, but too late. Damage done. Might as well suck it up and get it over with. "Actually, gonna need yer help," she said keeping her eyes on the bath water and very thankful it wasn't smelling of flowers and fruit. "Tight leather ain't exactly easy to peel off, especially after days of being out in the woods and fighting. So, over there," she said motioning towards the tub. "Time to play if you grab the wrong body part slapping's gonna be the least of your worries."

Keystone looked at her with a smirk of sarcasm. "But lookin's fine, right?" He shook his head. "Listen, your pretty arse ain't 'xactly what I'm after this evenin', alright? Don't go gettin' me wrong - things being different I'd be soft in the bloody 'ead, turn a lady like yourself down." Keystone stepped over to the other side of the tub and held his arms out, tilting his head to an upward angle to better view the amazing carpentry of the ceiling just then, "But near as I can tell, you ain't some servin' bint what I can ply with strong drink, nor're you the kind what sells your affections. You're decent folk, Sana. An' I know this's lookin' right suspect. That outta the way, we got bigger worries than me grabbin' a handful of naughties on accident. Let's just do this and have it be done."

Sana let a coy smile come to her lips. Her hips swayed slightly as she moved carefully over to the tub. Slipping beneath his outstretched arms and coming up between them, her body lightly pressing back against his chest. Brushing her hair to the side to reveal the slender slope of her neck and the leather tie of her top. Her voice came through as warm silk when she finally spoke. "You forget, I am gypsy first." Gypsy, courtesan, the Rawn Troupe was known for their seduction and charm. Their most prized raised to be able to extract what they wished and needed from any court.

Granted, even though Sana had been raised to take over for her troupe, for her people. She knew the steps, she had the skill, and before her burns she once had the beauty. What she didn't have was the ability to keep from laughing right then. Keystone was more than just some mark to her, a friend and perhaps more. Which was why she couldn't keep it up. A loud guffaw coming from her lips, right before she felt her teeth would shatter if she had kept it in any longer. After a few minutes of holding onto the side of the tub laughing her proverbial ass off, she finally was able to speak between giggles. "Oh fer crying out loud. Untie me and help me out of these shorts. You looking isn't going to hurt a damn thing, so just watch what your doing."

Keystone's face expressed a small amount of irritation as his eyes lowered to view Sana getting awfully cozy with him. Women had, on occasion, attempted to sway him with more physical favor for their own reasons, thinking him stupid or an easy mark. Perhaps it was on account of his massive stature and the fact that the marks of a hundred fights upon his face and body tended to be somewhat offputting, possibly to the degree that would make him starved for a woman's attention. They were incorrect, of coure. It was a lesson he learned earlier in life. In this case, he honestly believed Sana was just screwing with him.

"You are a right solid twat, d'ya know that?" The look on his face unchanging, he mechanically pulled the knot to her top free and snatched down her leather shorts. While impressive, her shape still wasn't foremost on his mind. "Mind you save a bit of that heat, Miss Sana. I might want to wash my arse, too."

"I know, only fitting you are stuck with me since you are a right solid arse," she laughed as her clothing fell away from her body and she used Keystone's arm as a balance to help her climb into the tub. Resting down she relaxed a bit as she looked up to him. "Aww now, remember I am a right solid twat, why would I save any warm water for you?" she said with a smirk on her lips. It was obvious she was messing around as she started washing herself carefully but quickly even as she spoke.

"Yeah, I'd imagine you'd be actin' spiteful" mumbled Keystone, untucking his shirt and walking over to his pack. He hefted it onto a small table nearby, rummaging through it until he produced a small bottle of hard, white porcelain. "This ain't as brash as ale, Miss Sana. Point of fact, little softer than the water they're servin' 'ere. Shou drink, this is. Made from plums. Why don't you see if it 'elps numb that throat a bit?" He allowed himself a look as he offered the bottle to her. "And hows about you tell me a little 'bout them scars? Every one's got a story. I should know."

Sana smirked a bit as she reached out and took the bottle. Resting back in the tub, not caring if he did look or not. She was not ashamed, she learned to put that behind her long ago. Taking a small sip she perked a brow. It was stouter and also tasted much better than what she had sampled downstairs. Leave it to Keystone to keep something tasty stashed away. Thinking on his question she took another long pull and closed her eyes.

"Hounds, slave traders, and fire," she said thinking back on that night. "Myself and two other women left a town that had been besieged by slave traders. Attacking them at their camp. During the fight hounds latched onto my shoulder and leg." Her eyes opened as she lifted her leg from the water and showed the puncture marks on her left thigh and calf. "The burns came later, tossed into a fire during the fight. Why the scar stops where my bracer is worn. I was lucky enough I guess, my face was spared for the most part." Shrugging she sat up in the bath and wrapped her arms around her legs and resting her chin on her knees. "It could have been worse and in the end I guess it was worth it. I found my parents. Father alive near death, mother dead. My troupe captured long before then unknown to me. Father died in my arms and in a pit I found my last blood, a tiny cousin: crying in the arms of my dead mother." Shaking the memories from her mind she took another swig of the plum drink and held the bottle back out to him.

"Come on, help me out. Your turn," she said as she rested her free hand on the edge of the bath and started to stand up. Seemed she had said her piece and gave him the answer to the question he asked: other than that she wanted to move on.

He accepted the bottle, taking a taste for himself. Nodding gravely at the story unfolded in front of him, Keystone could understand and even sympathize with tales of tragedy and the marks borne by those that survived. The large man reached out and assisted in Sana's grand tub exit, snatching up a nearby towel and handing it over to her. Rather awkwardly, he managed to get out, "Bloody badges of honor, Miss Sana. Earned every one of 'em. Don't you ever think they've made you less." Then a quick subject change, "You got anything to sleep in, then? Proper bed an' all. I might have some woolen item or another that'd be a good-enough nightshirt in this weather."

Taking the towel Sana dried off and shook her head. Reaching for her bag and pulling out a white cotton tunic. "This will work, now get your solid arse washed." Slipping on the shirt she carefully climbed into bed and rested back as she looked over to him. If he looked then she would look, it was only fair in her eyes. She wanted to say for the love of god for him not to do what he did last time he was in the tavern but she kept her mouth shut. Best not to poke the Kraken.

"That'll do, then." remarked Keystone about the shirt. Without so much as a warning, The Man Without Shame dropped his clothing and bracers from his body on the spot, letting it fall heavily upon the floor. The coverage of his own scarring was bared for Sana to see, extensive and varying. The fresher ones were apparent, but older ones crisscrossed over his flesh like a roadmap drawn by a raging blind man. He climbed into the tub and immediately set to scrubbing the last few days from himself in a fast and expedient manner. He briefly toyed with the idea of taking his great knife and shaving the week's worth of hair from his face, but ultimately decided against it. He did desire rest. If they weren't all dead in the morning, he'd have no problem parting with a silver coin for that Dwarven fellow downstairs to ply his trade. Around armed folk, of course. It is a foolish man to fully trust a strange barber in times of conflict. "Go on an' get some sleep, Miss Sana." suggested Keystone. "I'll bar up the door an' whatnot. Make sure we get a decent breakfast come tomorrow, too. You just rest."

Sana cocked a brow seeing the scarring. She was sure there was a story behind the lot of them but if either of them wanted rest that evening it was best to leave it for another day. With everything going on curiosity could wait, sleep was needed. Especially if they had any more runs ins like the one they had at the Orc encampment. "Sounds like a plan, you can tell me about your scars once things calm down," she said lightly before rolling over onto her side and getting comfortable. "Make sure you get some rest as well. Night Keystone," she added before letting her eyes drift close and allowing sleep to finally take her.

"Yeah, I'll do that." replied Keystone, addressing both the statement about his scars and her suggestion about getting rest. "G'night then, Sana."

Keystone gave his head one final dunk into the bathwater and emerged from the tub. He quickly toweled off and slipped into a thick, loose pair of canvas pants. Forsaking a shirt of any kind, he clipped his Dwarfcraft bracers back onto his arms. The door was next. Standard in this place seemed to be a decent bar to set across the humble wooden portcullis. Less expensive than a bound lock and more secure. The window shuttered and latched, although it was dubious how long it would last against an attack. Well, no matter. It was better than sleeping under the stars. Much better. And Keystone did want actual sleep. Meditation was an amazing way to stave off the need for it, and for weeks at a time. But he was not so talented at it that he could ignore true sleep forever.

Satisfied that Sana, himself, and their belongings were as secure as he could make them, Keystone settled back into the double-bed next to the already dreaming Sana and drifted off into what passed for restful slumber, given all that had happened.

Satilla Valen

Satilla sighed as she bit in her food while the sorcerer was walking over. She then chewed it fast and swallowed it and smiled as the younger man sat down.” Look, Thomas we are okey.” She said with a smile and a nod.” Don't take it too hard, her situation isn't exactly great and she does have a point.” She stated throwing a glance at Nor to indicate that he's also to listen at her words.” With the situation being what it is... spreading of information without regard could attract as much danger as a well aimed assassination attempt.” She stated.” Not everyone wants to know or for it to spread. Just... don't speak about these things with people, okey? Not everyone out there is out to do good.”

“Yes, we are friends. Don't worry, I'm not angry at you for that. Just be careful from now on, okey?” She stated with a smile, returning to her small meal, hurrying to fill her stomach to a point at least as fast as possible so she can go to her room and rest, preferably after a bath, but sadly baths were not mandatory given the situation.” Look, Thoms, I need to go and get some rest also.” Satilla finally said tiredly and slowly stood from her seat.” Be careful and don't answer any questions, okey? ” She said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He was going to learn... hopefully.

Afterwards she walked over, paid for a room and quickly walked to the room. It was a small nice room and the bed looked so good. Without forgetting to lock the room behind herself, she walked over to the table in the room where she arranged all the tiny bottles of the potions and containers of salves, pouches of herbs and so on, before starting to very neatly arrange them in her backpack so they don't take excess space and she knows where to look for each of them. Finally after all that was done, she slowly walked over to the bed, taking off her outer clothing until she was finally in her under garments. With that she sneaked under the bedsheets, her dagger resting by the pillow as skittles hopped onto her bag to guard it. Warm blankets, soft bed and no cold wind. This was a bliss.

"Uh... That's good to hear Satilla. And I guess." Thomas was uncertain if Satilla was just supporting Kyra, or thinking the odds were perpetually against them. That being said Thomas had no will to fight it anymore, it seems like the party would rather just all shut up about the fact that this town might just another night visitor they barely overcame. And that was because the necromancer or whatever it was voluntarily left. What if this time, they had decided not to? They would be ill prepared for a full on invasion, being three people down last Thomas counted. And His friend Ntaj was nowhere to be seen, which was a bit more concerning, as the orcish warrior either left or worse. Well they could always find a resurrection mage and bring back the dead, if the dead was willing to come back. Plus the price of a resurrection these days are a tad much. You never are really the same person either once you've been dead.

"Right. Okay. Uh... Have a good night then." Friendship. Well that was a good start right? At least Thomas knows they are friends now. Or at least Satilla considers the rather inept boy her friend. Waving at the healer as she bade her goodbye with some last tidbit of advice, casting foul suspicion at the poor dwarf who, just wanted to cut some hair. Although a hairdresser would have plenty of sharp objects to stab them all with from behind. Maybe the dwarf was an assassin sent to cut out everyone's tongues. No that's a silly thought, you couldn't possibly imagine a dwarf assassin, a portly stout bearded fellow in a black hooded cloak armed with a dagger? Aren't dwarves a little vertically challenged? Nevermind that Thomas, you should get back to meditation.

So leaving the table as well being the last out, hardly touching the remaining food but scant for a quick snack. Thomas returned to his shared rooms, setting his belongings in the chest and casting off his red robes to air himself out. It wasn't a particular active day, but it was good to get a chance to get to feel the air on bare skin. He could have a bath drawn perhaps, the soap was there, and it had been a few days since they took to water. Perhaps in the morning, a cold dunk to awaken the senses and refresh the mind. For now, it was back into the lull of meditation, meditation which would sooner or later nod off into sleep.

Darkness that binds us,
Ebon Night that entwines thus,
Black fog that blinds trust.