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Season: Late Fall/Early Winter
Time Of Day: Early Morning
Weather: While the previous weeks had been unseasonably warm overnight a chill set into the air that felt like true winter and as the sun finally began to rise there was a haze over the town and grey clouds in the air. A dusting of snow had fallen over the ground and the rooms were colder than they had been when everyone turned in.
General Ambiance: Things in the village are morose and dark, people seem to be in a daze, unsure of what to think or how to act. Nights usually meant attacks but the evening had provided none. Was this a good sign or a bad one? No one knew.
Location: Hamlet of Salarn in the region of Gorlf just south of the Orc Settlement of Yzewz

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The night had been uneventful, Lady Luck seemed to be smiling on the town. There were no attacks and other than the weather turning cold over night nothing else of interest had seemed to happen. There were no attacks, and no one came up missing. some people had decided to leave town in the night but perhaps they left too soon? Or maybe they left just in time and this was the calm before the storm? No one knew and because of this the people that remained in town seemed to be in a depressive mood and on edge. Was it too good to be true? They didn't dare to get their hopes up. Fear gripping many of them.

Supplies were running low in the town, they had been a while but now caravans carrying supplies were refusing to come close to the town. Stopping miles south, what could get in was having to be transported by hand and on horseback by militia that could be spared to make trip after trip after trip. Which to say, there was not many and it was causing a near standstill in trade. The constable feared if this kept up much longer things would get dire. Trading north was out of the question right then, even with word from the group that had come to town that the Orcs were not behind it, people would not risk setting out that way. East and West, there was nothing.

In the tavern, Femnal sat at the bar, going over papers, speaking with his staff and trying to prepare for the day. It seemed over night everyone had left besides a few. So the place was empty as a ghost town that morning besides the staff and a few patrons. Most of which came in for a breakfast meal before heading out again. No one stayed. Except a white haired woman and her Dire wolf. Kyra sat at a table in the main common room towards the back corner away from every thing else. Her back to the wall with Ash curled up at her feet; ensuring she would see anyone that came into the room. It looked like she had gotten little rest the night before and her boots were caked with mud.

"Can I get you anything?" one of the servant wenches asked Kyra as she poured over a scroll. Looking at the woman she shook her head and went back to reading whatever was on the paper and making the occasional note. The woman shrugged and wandered back off, not exactly knowing what to do right then. There was no one else to tend to.

Nor

Location: Crossed Swords Tavern
Interacting with:Kyra

Most of the more fragile races would have been bothered by the cool greeting the weather had bestowed upon the cozy shitheap that was Salarn, but it was a cold of more familiar times to Nor. And although he couldn't help but feel some of that old resentment bubble up from within, it was accompanied with a somber nostalgia. Next time he would go sleep at an inn during the winter, Nor decided to ask for/purchase additional blankets.

After getting decent, Nor collected his things and made his way to the common room/pub. He made a quick scan of the room and found only two people of note, that gnome from last night who carried himself like he owned the place and the silver-haired broad, with a wolf curled up right by her. Well can't blame a gnome for not standing up against an animal being in his establishment when it was that large. His mind made some quick risk assessments before deciding to approach Kyra. He mentally prepared for the lass' pet to start making some noise and being threatening towards him, cause that's what dogs did. He'd just need to make sure to not let it startle him.

"Morning, lass. M'name's Nor Dunadkar an' I'm just going tae cut tae the chase. I cam tae this town lookin' tae make a profit, and I see a chance tae make some profitable gains by joining the party yer apart of, but I can't do so if everyone's scared tae make conversation with me. And it's not like I cannae offer some use tae ye either. Been, introducing meself as a barber, and that be true, been trained in that craft since I was a wee lad. But I've also got decades of military and mercenary experience. If yer dealing with undead, ye'll need more than 7 people tae deal with that. So how bout's this: I lend ye me mercenary services, and ye help me get intae the club."

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

Interacting With: Each Other, awkwardly

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The evening blessedly passed without incident, although the temperature did drop considerably as time rolled by. Keystone instinctively sought comfort in the night, rolling over to the nearest source of steady warmth and pulling a blanket over himself. His rest continued, otherwise unabated, until morning's grey light filtered in through the shutters, a single, wide shaft of illumination providing just enough ambient light to rouse the slumbering Pugilist. It was the first time in a while he had slept as soundly in a good long while, and even though he was technically awake at this time, he had no desire to move from his warm, comfortable position until his the urgency to relieve his bladder overtook his desire to remain laying down.

Suddenly, something in his brain clicked. A mote of awareness, possibly an point of alarm that had to be addressed. What it was, he could not say; only that something was very, very wrong and it needed to be addressed as seriously as a rabid pit viper. Slowly, Keystone opened his eyes and patiently allowed them to adjust to the light. A soft sigh came from under the covers, stirring slightly but not enough to rouse. Golden hair peaked out from the top of the sheets and beneath Keystones chin.

Sana had slept peacefully that evening, getting some much needed rest. She had always slept best on her side and hated facing windows. They let the sun come in well before she was ever ready to get up. Spending most of her life sleeping outdoors, one would think she would be used to it but she wasn't. And when she had found herself passing out in an actual bed she took full advantage of it. Granted how she ended up curled up against Keystones chest was anyone's guess. People move in their sleep, it happens. It so happened that Sana ended up with her head tucked beneath his chin, her legs laced with his own and a hand resting on his chest as she breathed deeply and slowly.

Keystone, meanwhile, was wondering precisely how he was going to remove himself from the situation before Sana fully woke up. Not that this was an occasion wherein shame would have gotten the better of him; far from it. Were he the type to stretch the truth or brag about his mid-coital exploits, the acquisition of a magical gypsy-bard would, in this regard, only heighten his reputation in certain circles. But considering what kind of a person he was, it could actually damage her reputation. Even that aside, he didn't want to have his first experience of the morning be him getting swatted and assaulted for unknowingly copping a feel. To accomplish this, he initiated a "hand check", to ascertain precisely where each one was before he started moving around. "One... and two." he clicked off mentally. With speed comparable to the common garden slug, Keystone began his attempt to remove himself from the tangle of limbs and bedsheets that began his morning. The fact that, for whatever reason, he noticed that her hair carried a particularly drawing scent meant absolutely nothing. Nothing at all.

A grumble came from Sana's lips as Keystone tried to remove himself and she shifted slightly. Not to pull away but to snuggle closer against him. Her hand slipping from resting on his chest to around it and pressing to his back. The woman was by no means stronger than Keystone but she was hardly a weakling, it didn't hurt that the majority of her strength was in her arms. A life time of drawing a bow string tended to do that. Either way, she was glued to him and seemed hell bent in her sleep not to move from the warmth his body provided. There was a chill in the air now because of the drop in temperature over night, that had to be why she was keeping herself so close. Right?

"Bloody 'ell, she's got some chains on 'er..." echoed in Keystone's mind. That meant the decision had most definitely been made for him. He could struggle out of the iron grip of the sinewy archer readily enough, but that would utterly destroy his misguided attempt at subtlety from a moment ago. No, no. Not this morning. Keystone resolved that he was going to stay right there, in that position, until such time as Sana wanted to rise for the day. He slowly put his hands back where they were when he first woke and settled back in, content to wait.

And if he was completely honest, the scent of her hair - Very much a perk. To hell with the undead emergency.

Satilla Valen

Satilla woke up in the morning as always. The bed and nice blankets, made her feel like hte previous adventure with the orcs and so forth was all a dream, but sadly she knew better. She blinked a few times and pulled herself from underneath the blankets, only to cover herself back up at the realization it was colder this morning than last night. Yeah weather was changing. With a meowing sound, Skittles the cat made his presence next to her side under the sheets known as she smiled." Sadly, we should get going. Come on, hop down." She stated, nudging the cat to move away from the bed. After some convincing, the cat jumped on the table and curled next to the bag, waiting for her to be done.

Without much fuss from that point onwards, Satilla quickly changed into her clothing and pulled a string to tie her hair in a tail for a change. Once she was all dressed, the witch put hte bag's strap across her shoulders and with Skittles in tow, she walked out of hte room, heading to the main area of hte tavern.

To her surprise she found that man from last night, attempting to talk to Kyra.

"Good morning." She said in greeting once she was close. It was mostly aimed at Kyra, but she gave a customary nod towards the man also. She wondered what he was attempting to do, talking with Kyra like that. Maybe he had request or something? Whatever the case was, Satilla suspected that Kyra wouldn't be too happy with it.

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As Nor started to head over towards the table Ash lifted his head from his paws and eyed him for a moment before standing. Ash kept looking, his head bumping against Kyra's elbow as she looked over the scrolls in front of her. Her eyes coming up and looking over the top of the parchment. Seeing nor there she cocked a brow and then glanced down towards Ash, waiting to see if her pet did anything. He did alright. He yawned, laid back down and crawled under the table to rest his head on Kyra's feet. Shaking her head she leaned back in her chair and listened to Nor's little introductory speech.

Did she have a sign on her face that said 'Hey come talk to me I'm friendly?' today? She had to wonder since her resting bitch face was usually more than enough to keep most at bay from her. So he wanted into the club? What club was that? then it dawned on her, her attitude the last few days was more explosive than Sana skull fucking someone with an arrow. Granted she had had reason for that, people were acting as if all their talk wasn't painting a red target on their backs. That combined with nearly loosing Sana had set off a domino effect of emotions that Kyra was not used to dealing with.

That was yesterday, this was today. Today, even though she hadn't gotten much sleep, she was more like her normal self. Sana seemed to be healing from what she could tell before she stormed off last night and what she had gotten from Femnal this morning the Gypsy had been taken to bed by Keystone: neither had been seen leaving the room since. This gave her a sense of calm to know Sana seemed to be okay but she had to wonder just what in the hell the woman was thinking going to bed with the hulking monstrosity. Anywho, she was more like herself. Still a bitch, but not as snappy so she didn't automatically tell the dwarf to go shove his axe up his own rear; followed by a sit and spin. Twirling her quill between her hands she took a long breath.

"Well least you're upfront about it, so I'll return the favor. This is a non payment venture. One of those good deeds things. Town isn't paying us, there's been no talk of treasure. We are just trying to figure out what is going on and stop it. If we figure it out, might there be payment or treasure? No idea but ain't counting on it," she told him in a cool tone. It was the truth. She could easily pack up and be none the worse for it but Kyra had lost things in the past so she had a soft spot for situations like these. She also had some hard spots.

Hearing Satilla her focused turned to the healer of the group. "Morning, get a decent nights sleep?" she asked in a bit more chipper voice than she had used with Nor. Satilla was one of the few she actually trusted. The girl was coming into her own and seemed to understand things better than others around. That and she had helped save Sana. In her book that meant she owed the young healer at least some courtesy.

Into falling Night,
Darkness closing soon,
Cosmos burning Bright
Waxing of the Moon,
And as the Hours wane,
Stars return again.

Such Visions in Sight,
What Fate sleeps on high,
Fear Prophecy's Might,
And maybe ask why,
And as the Hours pass,
Does the silence Last?

Rise shattered Twilight,
With Dawn the Day breaks,
Morning comes first Light,
Sun itself Awakes,
And as the Hour ticks,
What is broken: Fix.

The morning hours were rather chilling, a cold stiffness to awakening. Thomas had woken to redress himself, breaking meditation cycles for a moment to find check the presence of light. A good astrologist keeps his eyes to the sky, although with his broken timekeeper, it was difficult to keep track of the celestial movements. A broken magical device, practically useless even with his attempts to fix the clockwork mechanisms, what spare hours he had with Master Wolfgang probably lead to further deterioration of the machine. Supposedly it was a tool to chart every celestial object, a relic from Wolfgang's adventuring days taken from an observatory of a heretical cultist. It used to project all the stars in the sky to where they ought to be, attuning itself to every plane of existence all at once. And yet, its workings were beyond Thomas though some mechanic might have better luck. An artificer maybe.

Still with a few casts of his void spell, roughly five for the day, the young sorcerer felt satisfied with his preparation. It was strange really, he expected them to have at least one minor encounter in the night. He was certain they were due for some company, but perhaps, just perhaps, the dark stars smiled upon them and sent not misfortune upon their own kin. Maybe it was their dwindling party size, perhaps Ntaj was taken already, oh poor Ntaj. Thomas had hoped the orcish fellow was well, but it didn't seem he returned. From the large party of seven or eight, they had systematically been reduced, everyone disappearing and Thomas just barely knew them. Ntaj was a bit different though, he tried to make an effort to get to know the orcblood. Then again Thomas had no real reason to stay on save for perhaps doing right by Sana and redeeming himself in her eyes. If that was even possible given Kyra and Keystone and Sana seemed to be conjoined at the hip, natural party leaders who were the... Keystone pieces to hold the rag-tag crew together.

That, and the mystery of an unknown necromancer was always interesting. Who knows, if they weren't too busy trying to kill each other, maybe Thomas could take some notes and learn a thing or two about raising armies of zombies and skeletons. Purely for research of course. Well either way, it was about time to greet the morning, despite however cold and brisk it may be. Stretching out at the foot of his bed and collecting his things, Thomas ventured into the tavern area to see who was up, the dwarf, Hush-hush Kyra, Satilla. Yep, no Ntaj. With a sad sigh the boy slunked over to a chair and opened up his spellbook, reviewing the basics to sensing the nature of magic. Next time he may be of more use, and could perhaps even locate the source of the necromancy if he focused and attuned his magical senses rather than using his eyes. And he'd need to do so, given the backdraw of void spells meant temporary blindness.

Nor

Location: Crossed Swords Tavern
Interacting with:Kyra

What kind of gullible sods was Nor getting himself involved in this time? He could understand doing this shit for free if they were just dealing with bandits, a wild animal or greenskins. After all, getting rid of an infestation is payment unto itself, but undead? Might as well go around clearing hornet nests with only a stick while you're at it for all the good that will come to you. But once a decision is made, you stick to it. No sense in getting cold feet afore you even get out of bed, so to speak.

"Morning, lass," Nor replied to Satilla before he returned his attention back to Kyra. Common courtesy should be upheld with members of a team you're trying to join. "Aye, but at least one of yer number I'm countin' as a customer for me other practice, and I gotta make sure they can live long enough for me tae actually do my job." He'd keep being more or less straight with the ranger. It seemed to have worked so far, and he had a hunch his normal sales persona wouldn't go over well.

Satilla Valen

“More than decent.” Satilla replied with a content smile taking a nearby seat.” I haven't slept this deep in months.” She added, feeling quite refreshed in comparison to yesterday. Now that she had a decent sleep, was no longer running on fumes and had let her magic energy to properly distribute she felt as good as new! All that missed was a steam bath, now that would have been grand, but maybe after this whole adventure business was over with.

'Yep, I was right.' Satilla thought when she heard Nor speak. He seemed to have desire to join them. Seems that Kyra went and explained a few things, but despite that this man seemed for some reason determined to want to join. She didn't have great hopes on his chances with his current way of speaking though. They had some bad experience with supposed merchant and business companion.

“Excuse me, can I get something light to eat?” Satilla then called one of the tavern staff. She didn't need much food, but having something in your stomach was a very important thing!

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

Interacting With: Sana, awkwardly still

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As personally gratifying as it was, laying half-awake curled with his more petite (but no less terrifying) adventuring companion and ...ok, he wasn't one hundred percent sure exactly what she was to him anymore, or even if such a situation warranted the application of a label other than adventuring companion. Using very objective consideration, Keystone did come to the conclusion that while the nature of their relationship might not warrant specific title, it was highly unlikely he would wake up tangled in the limbs of Satilla, Kyra, or Cyneburg, let alone the more absurd pairings of Thomas or that Dwarf downstairs. That thought gave him pause.

But his thoughts digressed. More immediate matters beckoned, snapping his mind back to the situation at hand. <ahem> Let's try again:

As personally gratifying as it was, laying half-awake curled with his more petite (but no less terrifying) adventuring companion and ...indeterminately good friend... Sana, the call to rouse and relieve himself was strong. With terrible slowness, Keystone reached back and grabbed hold of the bed frame to his side, beginning to one-arm himself out of the clutch of the solid archer lady. Surreptitiously craning his head back behind him, he could barely see the crude brass of the chamberpot rim, mostly obscured by the bed itself interposed between said object and his field of vision.

If he pulled off this miracle of stealth, it would undoubtedly start the day, and all of the potential for Actual Death & Dismemberment (AD&D). But he had an actual moment there with another living soul. One that he didn't have to pay for, either! It skirted into territory that was a little disconcerting; he had already lost people to the Undead. Getting close to someone with his tendencies to meet and greet formerly living creatures meant seriously having to brace himself for the possibility that he would see them die, in horrible and excruciating ways. It had happened before.

Before he went through the maybes of caring, closeness, loss, and anger; before he even started this day of horrible possibility, he needed to get to that chamberpot.

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"That's good to hear," Kyra said to Satilla. She was glad at least one of them had gotten a good nights sleep. Kyra hadn't but that was for reasons she had yet to speak about. She would eventually but being out in the open like they were and among at least one stranger didn't sit well with her. She would talk to the others once they arrived. Thomas had but he seemed to be keeping to himself right now. She had to wonder if he was going to make a break for it and leave like the others had but only time would tell with that.

Then there was Nor. He seemed determined to join up with the party. His reasoning didn't seem sound enough for her but there was one thing, they were short on people and frankly perhaps another meat shield wouldn't be such a bad idea. It would be better if she could trust him but trust was a long time thing for Kyra. There just wouldn't be enough time for her to get that comfortable with the dwarf. It would have been worse if she was around her family, Elves did not trust dwarves from her experience and it was the same the other way around.

Leaning back in her seat she rolled up the parchment she had been looking over and slipped it through her belt. "I will have to discuss it with the others before anything is agreed on," was all she said. It wasn't much but it was something. It wasn't an out right no. That was some progress and probably the best that could be expected from her right then. One of the tavern wenches nodded towards Satilla and headed back into the kitchen. What was eventually brought out wasn't horrid but it wasn't Keystones cooking from the night before. Runny eggs and a torn off chunk of bread that was slightly dry. Kyra looked at the plate and gave Satilla a sympathetic look.

Up in the shared room of Keystone and Sana, things were... Interesting. Keystones movements hadn't gone unnoticed. Sana yawning slightly as her hand came up to cover her mouth. Her eyes fluttering open and staring straight into Keystone's. One couldn't tell from the look if she was getting ready to scream, hit him, or worse. Then she spoke.

"If you need to piss that bad, then get up, do yer business and be done with it. You have all the stealth of a Hell Hound in a tavern," she said with a slight smirk before rolling onto her back and stretching; her back arching deeply as her hands slipped above her head. Well she hadn't killed him, that was good. Thing was she had woken up hours ago to find herself curled up against Keystone and just let it be. She was comfortable at the time, so why move just because it could have been awkward? It wasn't for her. The man had seen her in nothing but skin the night before, having her at least partly clothed in a snuggle while she slept was hardly something to bat an eye at.

Satilla Valen

“Thank you.” Satilla said to the tavern wench when the breakfast was brought. Well it wasn't that bad! She noted Kyra's look of sympathy and smiled slightly. It wasn't the worst meal she ever had, but also had nothing on the meal that Keystone had prepared prior to their arrival here. All the things considered, the meal she was given was about the usual she got when traveling. Since she couldn't really afford anything too big or good things like this was what she ended up with if anything at all.

With content smile she quickly got into eating down her breakfast so her stomach is at least somewhat full for later when she expected that the group will be doing something. Being overly active on empty stomach was a bad idea and she knew it.” It's not bad actually...” She said quietly after a few bites of the meal. It wasn't bad, but it also wasn't really good either in the end. It was a passable meal in any sense of the word.” I've had worse...” She barely whispered in the end, Skittles jumping from the floor onto her lap and curling there.

For a little while she wondered about asking Kyra if they should go and wake the rest, but in the end decided against it. All the party had a very destroying few days and all of them needed their rest.” Kyra, did you already have breakfast?” She asked of the woman with slight concern in her voice. As a healer her primary duty was the health and wellbeing of the party. If Kyra wasn't resting or eating well, this could affect her in the worst possible of times.

A rather trifling affair. The fundamentals of magic had a complex simplicity about it. For every set of rules which exists, there were, and probably are, another set of rules which contradict the first set. In one way or another, one could suppose that it was impossible to accurate predict the nature of magic for it was a living doctrine with flows and ebbs which often disregarded itself. Difficult to conceptualize in understanding, but akin to threading a needle through itself until one runs out of the infinite needle that would never knot itself into permanency. However for the most part, magic did obey the laws and retained constant properties of being. And while Thomas' spellbook was hardly a complete anthology of every spellcrafting manual known to man and elf, and the occasional squidfaced telepath, it was a start of finding out what sort of magic is at play. A powerful artifact for one, would be suspect to a wide-area scan for the trace magical flux around an artifact of great power, given the way these artifacts seem to bend reality itself by sheer potency. But to do so required weeks of preparation, mechanisms of divining to be built, and a general known area to be surveyed, like a telescope to the astral seas.

Thus, was the question, how were the dead being raised? What source of magic was afoot? Perhaps the locals could tell more about the nature of the attacks. Although Thomas had no method of cross-referencing since he did not dabble in necromancy. Maybe he should start, for research's sake, maybe he could somehow craft a spell that would enable him to restore life? Well, it took him a few months to learn how to harness solar energy into not only incendiary flames but ones to heal. Flames to purge and mend, restoring the caster and burning those around him. Getting it just right was the difficult part as to split the energies between construction and destruction, perhaps necromancy was similar, the push and pull of life energies, animating the empty vessel, like a puppet on strings. Either way, as long as they don't suspect him being the necromancer, given his age, Thomas should be fine poking around.

Ah the quest for knowledge was a thirst no bar nor tavern nor pub could quench. Even as the bar wench made her rounds, seeing how she had to go bring food out, might as well see who else needed tending to. Yet the spellcaster hardly noticed her approach, buried in his book flipping pages back and forth between his thumbs. His own writing in the margins, jotting down some strange notes and so forth. In theory he could do it, finding the spell source, a ritual should be able to do the trick if and only if the caster was within a given radius of the ritual site. Yet unfortunately, Thomas know the mechanics of such a ritual to conduct it. He could given some study from a material, work out how to prepare and execute such a ritual. Was there a wizard or mage still left in town? Or was only Thomas the sole magical representative?

"Good Morning ladies, uh, we've lost quite a few people since four days ago. I uh... I think I'll stick around to help with uh, you know what, if that's okay with you Kyra. I might learn a thing or two about Nec- Uh I mean Nec- Nectarines? Yeah, let's go with that, nothing wrong with a farm boy leaning a thing or two about fruits right?" Well that was a close one, the dwarf was hopefully out of earshot, and so was anyone else interested in what a mage had to say and almost repeat his folly. It seemed like Thomas was learning, Kyra was not one he'd want against him. Speaking of, where was Sana and Keystone?

Nor

Location: Crossed Swords Tavern
Interacting with:Kyra

"Wouldn't expect otherwise." Unless there was a rigid social hierarchy in place, a group always needed consent of the whole before any adjustments were made to it. And from what he'd seen of this ragtag band of misfits, a rigid hierarchy was far from a reality. Like it or not, he had to get in good with most of the group to get in the club. not so difficult considering there weren't that many of them and he was on at-least neutral terms with all the ones he had any reasonable amount of contact with insofar. Not bad, if he did say so himself.

"Morning tae ye too, lass. I don't believe I ever introduced meself," Nor said after approached Satilla, offering a thick, weathered hand to her in greeting. "Nor Dunadkar at yer service." Yeah, he was interrupting her breakfast, but hopefully she wouldn't mind too much. He didn't want to stand around awkwardly, watching her eat for the next 10 minutes. Briefly his eyes flitted to the odd mage kid from the night before, but he stopped paying him mind. The kid wasn't worth the trouble.

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

Interacting With: Sana, even more awkwardly

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While it seemed a bit sarcastic on Sana's part, Keystone didn't mind a little verbal sandpapering. It was even endearing at times. Especially the incident she brought up. "Hellhound in a Tavern" wasn't a colorful, colloquial phrase, like someone might describe a horned, male bovine inside of a storefront distributing fine ceramics. That actually happened. Just as real and urgent as the pressure still accumulating on the inside of his bladder. Maybe even moreso.

Keystone fondly recalled the event. It happened the day that he and Sana met; they were both reluctant plane-hoppers. Though they did not arrive at the same time exactly, nor by the same means, they found themselves in a tavern that night, set upon by a Hellhound of proportions larger than the itinerant Pugilist had ever heard of. The damned thing was bigger than a draft horse. Much bigger. The big man himself even got the killing blow in, though it seared off a good portion of the skin on one hand. Another side effect of the incident, he lost something dear to him. It was a black, woolen, knee-length overcoat; one of the few nice things his mother was able to give him. It caught fire, due to the eruption of flame at the beast's passing. He fought to remove it from his person before he burned away with the tailored wool. Sadly, all he had left were a series of dull, fire-marked buttons. That unfortunate business aside, he could look back upon the evening as the time he met Sana, and the first time he prepared and consumed Hellhound steak.

His little trip down memory lane aside, he still really needed to access that chamberpot. It was maddening. He snatched up the heavy brass container and readied himself to relieve ...himself... but froze. He turned to look at Sana, stretched out on the bed. Now, Keystone wasn't exactly the most mannered individual. It could be said that he was, quite possibly, the least mannered individual he personally knew. But it didn't stop him from trying.

Unfortunately, trying is the first step toward failure.

Keystone wasn't 100% sure what the Big Book of Manners had to say about getting his morning constitutionals in front of a lady. He looked around for a screen of some kind, but alas, there was none. No time to set up a fort with the furniture and bedsheets, either. He was not a man bound by shame, ever really, but he did not want Sana to feel uncomfortable. "Right then. 'xcuse." The broad man took himself and his chamberpot out of the room, closing the door behind him. He set the brass vessel on the floor next to the room entrance and dropped trou on the spot, leaning forward against the wall and letting himself relax. The relief was palpable. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to notice that his bedroom overlooked a balcony, and that balcony overlooked the common room, below. The guests were privy to the unsettling image of an obviously scarred, shirtless Keystone, showing off half of his ass as the sound of liquid hitting metal rang out across the Crossed Swords Inn & Tavern.

"Aw, bloody 'ell, that's the melody..." he grunted out, sweet, blessed reprieve from nagging discomfort coloring his deep voice.

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Kyra shook her head slightly. "No, not yet but from the looks of it, I haven't missed much," she said eying the plate skeptically. She had had food in this tavern before and while it wasn't royal dining, this was below even their previous standards. She'd hold out a while longer. If Keystone pulled what he did the night before he would cook something and she'd rather wait and see if there was enough for her to grab some before testing the yolks of runny eggs.

Nor seemed okay with her answer, so that would do for now. At least until Keystone and Sana got down there. She had no idea where Njat had taken off to or Cyneberg for that matter. Maybe the two hooked up or decided to seek adventure elsewhere. Either way she hadn't seen them since before everyone turned in the night before and she hadn't seen them while she was out and about either. So she would stick with what or who in this case she did know was still around. Satilla, Keystone, Sana, herself, this new guy Nor, and perhaps Thomas. (That was if he didn't try to kill Sana again.)

Sana looked at Keystone, watching him as he made his way to the door. Her hand going up quickly but before she could get the words out the door was closed and he was on the other side of it. "Key...nevermind," she said to herself. Maybe he would find a tree or at least a dark corner. That was until she heard the steady flow of morning relief. Her jaw dropped a bit but then something itched at the back of her mind and she jumped out of bed, getting dressed quickly in her winter attire.

Hearing Thomas she looked over to him and cocked a brow. Okay the kid really needed to work on his cover up techniques when it came to not speaking about things but at least he was actually trying. "Riiiiight. Sure, we can help you learn about all the fruits in the basket..." she started to say but was cut off by a sound. Her eyes slowly drifted up and over to the over looking hallway of room doors. Her eyes widening a bit as she found herself staring right at Keystone's ass end. "Oh my god...." she choked out as she grabbed her bow.

It took Sana less time than normal to dress, not bothering with the majority of her items and only slipping on her pants and boots quickly as she could since she already had her tunic on, having slept in it. Swinging the door open she found herself looking dead at Keystone just to her side. "I knew it! That was you that was pissing out the window that morning!" she said quickly as her arms crossed over her chest. She jumped a bit as a piece of hard bread came sailing through the air with pin point accuracy and hit Keystone in the back of the noggin.

"Great." Thomas was relieved, his recovery, albeit not so great, didn't seem to infuriate Kyra. Then again for a boy brought up in a small time community and later a wizard's estate, freedom of information was a given. Pooled knowledge and all, very few would think to have been so malicious with such information, and even so the most secret of all things often had a price to be paid. One's sanity was usually the price to read from some of the books Master Wolfgang had collected, tempting as they were left open in his collection. They weren't worth the trouble of warding off, and frankly anyone who wants them can take them, he's had them far too long to be concerned about keeping them. Maybe he's even taken a peek or two which may explain why he was a bit... Off. Even for wizard standards.

"Is the dwarf joining our company Kyra?" A mention of the dwarf seeming to introduce himself to Satilla. Somewhat of a bad taste in all that set up. Maybe Kyra's distrust was rubbing off on him, or maybe he didn't appreciate the dwarf trying to give unsolicited advice just moments after the table smashing episode. Thomas really should have any qualms with the shorter man, but still, something was not quite sitting well with him watching that dwarf saunter up to Satilla. First Thomas, now Satilla? earlier Ntaj too wasn't it? Pretty sure the dwarf was either really trying to cut some hair, or get in bed with this group. Figuratively that is.

Then the 8 o'clock bell rang.
Wait, that was no bell.
And certainly not noble.
Rather, a chamber pot.

"Hextor's Burning Eyes!" Thomas exclaimed, an expression amongst wizards as an in joke within the class similiarly to 'Bigby's Flipping Bird'. What has been seen cannot be unseen. Although perhaps some memory changing magics may be powerful enough to erase the image of Keystone's half-moon, those magics were often unreliable at best, and a squidy-braineater wouldn't be too keen on sparing the mind. Still though, his scars and upper body did tell a story, one Thomas was almost curious to find out, if the man wasn't so crass about his chamber pot activities. Hardly culturally acceptable, although then again neither is pelting people with pieces of pumpernickel.

Thomas looked away and settled on sitting down, not quite speaking a word of what just happened. And this was something he didn't need to talk about, taking his chair and looking at those runny eggs. Did the chef from last night up and died or something?

Satilla Valen

'Well at least he's trying to learn.' The witch thought when she heard what Thomas who had just arrived said to Kyra. Well it wasn't his last night's spouting of information for everyone to hear, but damn if it wasn't obvious as hell. Of all things nectarines... Still she smiled and nodded towards him.” Good morning, Thomas.” She greeted him in return, glad he was at least indeed trying to achieve some progress. Still had a lot to learn it seemed.

Suddenly she was brought out of her meal when Nor moved over and introduced himself, offering a hand for a handshake. She looked up at him, before smiling and taking his hand for just a moment.” Nice meeting you too, Nor. My name's Satilla Valen.” She smiled, eager to return to her meager meal. Breakfast was important meal after all! Be as bland as it was, still it would provide her the majority of energy she'd have to spare for a good while from the day.

“...” Then the exclamations from her teammates came. Same as the sound of Keystone's relieve, if you could call it that. Satilla was glad for only one thing and that she was effectively with her back towards Keystone.” Spirits...” She mumbled, pulling her eyes away from her meal and closed her eyes.” I...” A meow rang as Skittles hopped in her lap.” This can't be happening... I won't turn... I won't.” She mumbled to herself, struggling the desire to leave the tavern. One thing sure, she didn't actually feel hungry anymore.

Nor

Location: Crossed Swords Tavern
Interacting with:Satilla, Kyra, Thomas

Nor couldn't help but notice every minor detail of the girl's hand when he took it for a handshake. It was something that happened every so often, and he wasn't sure why. Her hand was soft, but that was no surprise. Women, especially of the non-Dwarven variety tended to have soft hands, and she didn't look the type to be doing the kind of hard work necessary to build up thick callouses. By contrast, Nor's hands were wide, and thick-skinned, but not rough. At least mostly. He'd done a lot of rough-work in his army days, but those were a distant time's past and nowadays he didn't do so much manual labor. The body had an annoying way of getting lazy if something isn't being used all the time.

It was then that the entire inn seemed to collectively look in one place and gawk. The direction up wasn't naturally in a dwarf's peripheral vision, so it took him a second to catch on and figure out what the 9 Hells everyone had gotten their knickers in a knot over. Why, it was just that chef bloke from the last night taking his morning dump. What was the sodding deal? Everyone had to answer Nature's call whether they liked it or not, and although doing it in full view of everyone was disgraceful, sometimes a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

That said, he didn't like looking at it, and averted his eyes at his earliest convenience. The wisdom of joining this group came more into question with every passing minute. Bringing his attention back to the people in the tavern, the only remaining members of the party that were unaccounted for were the two halfbreeds. Where the hell where they?

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

Interacting With: Sana, Group, and a precisely fired end of stale bread

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The broad man could appreciate Sana's tactless but wholly accurate deduction of what occurred all that time before. And here he had thought he covered his tracks so well, relieving himself from the vantage point of the shuttered window of the upper floor of that strange, little Inn. There were all manner of strange and flesh melting events going on out there that day and evening, so the next morning was taken with the utmost of caution. Propelling a powerful volley of liquid (that to olfactory detection, resembled cooked steak and Dire Bear musk) from the shuttered window of the uppermost floor of the curious, extra-planar building seemed preferable to venturing out-of-doors.

His face remained neutral through out the whole event of Sana exiting the room to get an eyeful of him power washing the interior of the chamberpot with his morning ritual of highly pressurized micturition. He didn't so much as attempt to cover himself out of some misguided sense of modesty, as she had to have heard what was going on as she neared the door. Instead, Keystone turned to his roommate from the previous evening, and in a fairly unconvincing voice, baritone out, "I got no idea what you're on about." Luckily, he was finishing up.

As if karma had a hand in the morning, the next instant saw a chunk of stale bread sail through very thin air, pegging Keystone in the back of his head. He moved reflexively, one hand yanking back up his trousers fully as he turned to face his attacker. Unfortunately, the toe of his still boot happened to catch the rim of his brass urine receptacle. A frozen moment of alarm lanced through the brutish man as his chamberpot rotated twice, seemingly in slow motion, before listing fully to one side, spilling the brunt of its contents away from the pair upstairs. More unfortunately still, the horrid liquid seeped and rolled its way to the edge of the balcony - and beyond. Keystone could hear the splattering white noise of last night's ale striking the wooden base flooring below, almost soliciting a chuckle from the burly, shirtless man.

Keystone glared down at Kyra. Damage had been done, not a damned thing he could do to fix it. It wasn't like he could unspill the awful mess, and to be frank, he firmly believed that this was as much her fault as his. Then he smirked, looking to Sana. "Whelp, no sense cryin' over spilt piss, as me old Mum would say." He extended a hand, offering to carry her over over the spreading puddle of pungent, waterfall-impressioning bladder fluid. Like a gentleman. "Umm... Breakfast?"

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Sana smirked as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Right... And I didn't slam that barkeeps head into the wood for insinuating I would sleep with him for a discount on the room either," she said curtly but there was a smirk on her lips. Yeah, there was no hiding it. Keystone had all the charisma and charm and manners of Goblin in a corset trying to perform the dance of the seven veils. Sad fact of the matter was though was that she liked him on some level. God help her. She wondered if she had been dropped on her head as a small child or taken one too many blows to the head in combat. Maybe it was time to retire.

As the contents of the chamber pot spilled her eyes darted down and she stepped to the railing. Looking over as Femnal looked up. "Shit..." she exclaimed. Femnal catching a mouth full of the stuff before he started to gag, wretch, and run.

"It went in my mouth!!!!" he yelled as he ran frantically around, spitting the mouthful of Keystone's... well you know, out of his mouth and onto the floor as he started to heave.

"I'm having very painful flashbacks..." Kyra quipped as she laced her bow over her shoulder. Femnal had had another spout of vomiting the first time she met Keystone a week or so back. That was from stench alone, this was from... oh well, again you know. Shaking her head she sat down with her back to the scene and glanced over towards Thomas. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you all about that. We will take a vote to see if he joins. So what are your thoughts?" she said, trying to put the sounds of Femnals vomiting out on the front of the tavern out of her mind.

Sana took a deep breath and looked back over to Keystone. "You know, I have suddenly lost my appetite."