Lord Jullian sat down with the newly formed Ascore Expeditionary Force. Hmmm...he thought to himself, perhaps better to not call them that. "Well, I hope all is going well in your preparations for travel. I have some bad news though. The Silverymoon Pass is already getting close to being closed by some early snowfall high in the mountains. It will be necessary for you to either travel further south and follow the River Rauvin through the Moon Pass, or travel north and head through the lowlands that lie between the Nether and Rauvin Mountains. Either way holds it's own perils. The choice is yours. When you are ready to depart, come and see me one more time, I have a gift for all of you to help keep you safe."

[This message has been edited by Baldak Oakfist (edited September 05, 2001).]

Elviendra stood silently a few steps behind Calin, barely listening to Jullian's words. She was much more interested in studying her new companions. Her pale blue eyes flicked lightly from one to the other, lingering on the one, Calin, who had cut her free. Never before had she felt cause to be so thankful to another. What those drow had intended with her, she had no idea, but she was sure it would not have been pleasant. Calin's gentle words, and courteous touch had gone far to soothe her fears. Dismissing the direction of those thoughts with a slight shake of her silvery braids, she returned to her contemplation of the others.

They seemed friendly enough, and obviously had some great cause for their travels. Unfortunately, her own lingering shock and withdrawal after her release had not led to much conversation with them. That was something she now vowed to remedy. It appeared they would be parting company with some few of their former adventurers. So much the better. That dark one... Elviendra shuddered slightly. She would not have remained in his company, despite the fact that she had been solitary for so long.

Her slender fingers traveled absently over the beaded embroidery along the edge of her cloak. Perhaps it was indeed time for her to join with a few new friends. In fact, her lips curling in a gentle smile as she gazed once more at Calin, this could turn out to be quite an adventure.

With an elf's etxraordinary peripheral vision, Calin caught the gaze of the beautiful elf maiden. Smiling slightly, he made his way to stand next to her. This maid is truly beautiful, Calin thought to himself nervously. When he reached her, he had some trouble speaking through the lump in his throat. Yesterday, after the battle, words had come so easily.

Calin reached her and bowed over her hand, managing to say (in somewhat halting tones), "Well met. How do you fair this morn?" Glancing around nervously (to nervous to meet her gaze, that is) he continued, "I hope you have recovered from your ordeal at the hands of the drow." Calin continued, "If there is anything you need, please, do not hesitate to ask me." Calin suddenly remebered he had not properly greeted her. "I apoligize for my lack of courtesy. I am Calin Rua'Vin. If you could excuse me, I should go and greet my comrades."

Calin turned to the rest of the group, greeting them as well, somewhat perturbed that the one called Xalen had elected to go with them. "That mans unthinking dislike of elves may bring ruin upon us all." Calin thought carefully, trying to decide how he could help this man overcome his aversion to elves. With half the group elven, such a distaste could only sow discord and strife.

Mixed feelings again...

A.H.Pimm was now in quite a fix. He was very glad to see that his colleague Xalen hadn't in fact drowned in the river when the Comorant hit shore, and was relieved to have the company of someone that he knew and trusted.

The problem was that he'd now shared a handful of sticky situations with the new group, and while he wasn't sad to see some of them go, he still wished the best for their journey.

That was where his problem lay... he'd found a pouch in the wardrobe of the safehouse. No one noticed Pimm taking the pouch as they feverishly grabbed the bow that had been co-habitating the wadrobe with it.

He had originally intended to keep the contents of the pouch for himself, or at the most, spread it among his chosen traveling companions, although he didn't know the elven lass at all, and was not sure how she fit into the whole mess to begin with. However with Xalen showing up, it reminded him that he had no idea how his former colleagues were doing... he had particularly enjoyed the odd gnome's company. If the contents of the pouch can relieve that sort of troubled thinking with this group, then so be it.

"Damn," Pimm says to himself. He takes the pouch from his coat, looks in again.

"Damn" he says again, he closes up the pouch and tucks it back into his coat.

He'd have to wait until they were done meeting in the study. Pimm finds a chair and gets comfortable.

"So... Which way are you going to choose for your travels?" Quintain said loudly, trying to get attention, "I say to travel by the river is safer than the lowland passage, but to know which one's longer, we better check some map... River hosts occasional trade ships and clouds of fish, if it leads to where we go, I'd pick it. Not much I know of the other way, but decide swiftly."

Quintain observed the elves in his new company. Just normal elves he thought. He'd seen some in his life, while hunting in the woods, and elvsih tongue was a second native to him, although it takes some human lifetimes to really master the intricate intonations. Elves had been his main influence during long periods of his life, and the behaviour of elves was very understandable for him, though he recognised elven chaotic tendencies as a disadvantage. He needed no reason to get on this expedition. Yet, he noticed that Xalen distanced himself from the elves, if not showing that much. He then approached Calin and whispered in elvish: "Unfortunately, I will not be able to travel with you, the Lord needs me here. Xalen seems to have trouble dealing with elves and elven ways... You might try to persuade him that his beliefs are false, if you want this group to remain in harmony..."



[This message has been edited by Skedaddle (edited September 02, 2001).]

Xalen decides to take a backseat to this discussion, knowing little of the area he is now in. The river seemed the safest option to him, but then what might lie within the moon pass? He thinks that he should definately consult someone more experienced in such matters. He pulls up a chair beside Pimm, resting his chin on the back and looking down at the floor, tired and weary from his ordeal. After a minute, he looks over at the cleric. "Well, seems we meet more and more new people everday, no? Though I must say it was nice to see at least someone I knew here. Though I really wish I knew what has become of the others. Knomal, Jacob, Magicus, Thomas...*sighs*. Seems almostlike old company since lately more and more new faces pass into my life and are just as quickly gone again. A sad state of afairs, Pimm. It truly wieghs heavily on my heart." Xalen stares at the floor some more, thinking back again to older times, happier times.

Without looking up, he speaks again. "I truly would have enjoyed being able to return to Waterdeep. I know it was only days ago that I was there, but it seems a lifetime away now. I set out to make a name for myself in my grandfater's image, rest his soul, but now, sometimes at least, I wish I was still in Waterdeep, back with friends and family." Xalen scans the room at his new companions, wondering what these new people will bring to the table. Weary and drained, he sighs and stands, stepping outside the room for a bit and walking to the nearest window for a bit of fresh air. He stares off into the horizon, quite and still, searching for something untangable, some sort of answer...

[This message has been edited by Crawl (edited September 02, 2001).]

6 Eleint

The session began with Pimm returning from his latest adventure with a new friend, Pheldas. Lord Jullian Explained a little about the City of Ascore, but his information was not very useful. He did give the group Amulets of Protection, which would help protect them from all but the most powerful shadow magic. Xalen sold off some of the excess armor he had acquired and hurried back to the manor. Lord Jullian then gave Elviendra a Map, and Pimm a note. The group emerged from the estate only to find it was already evening. They would stay one more night at the Whistling Stag, “and a good time was had by all.”

7 Eleint

The party left in the morning and proceeded to the Quaevarr Stables, where 5 light riding horses awaited them. They decided to follow the southern route around the Nether Mountains. They would bypass Silverymoon, and Stop in Everlund on the first night. From there they would proceed to Jalanthar and then to Sundabar. The group briefly stopped to look down upon Silverymoon, but the memories of the recent past were too much for several of the members, they continued on past without entering.

Shortly after mid-day, Elviendra noticed some movement on a hill just to the east of a small pass which ran between two hills. After a second look, and Pimm confirming the sighting, The group found themselves facing a lone Ogre out on a hunt. Xalen would prove to be less than accurate with his short bow this day, missing with all three of his shots. Elviendra scored the first hit with an arrow wounding the large creature followed by Calin, who scored a hit to the creatures shoulder which caused him to lose accuracy with his attacks. This single dagger throw probably saved the elf’s life, as the Ogre wasn’t able to successfully attack him. Pimm’s bless spell was also helpful as well as Pheldas’ mage armor spell cast on Calin. Calin struck true with his short sword, dealing yet more damage to the already wounded Ogre. The final moments of the Ogre’s life consisted of being struck by yet another of Elviendra’s arrows and Pimm crushing in his larynx with his morning star. A brief search of the body yielded nothing, and the party continued down the road to Everlund. (In the future, the ranger may remember that she can track and it may have been possible to find this Ogre’s Lair, It may still be possible)

They arrived at the gates just before sunset, and located an inn, The Battered Hat, a location where guides and rangers like to frequent.

The Map that Elviendra received from Lord Jullian can be seen at my site:
http://people.ne.mediaone.net/frankmarianne

It is the map entitled "Savage Frontier & Silver Marches". There is also a Party location Map posted so that you can see where all the different groups are located.
You are indicated by the Green Dot with the T/S in it.


[This message has been edited by Baldak Oakfist (edited September 05, 2001).]

[This message has been edited by Baldak Oakfist (edited September 05, 2001).]

OoC: Well, if the ranger hadn't left the game immediately after the battle, she might have bothered. As it happened, she was doing no tracking, she was going to bed. :p

Relieved to finally be back in a city as opposed to the savage frontier they had traveled today, he breathes a sigh of relief. Though obviously troubled with his marskmanship earlier, he decides to put such things in the past. After all, he thinks, he's a swordsman, not an archer. Better to leave such things to that female elf. Seems to have some knack with a bow no doubt. Regardless, as the party makes their way to an inn, he is in little mood to converse with the others. Securing his mount at the stables, he decides to order a meal and take it to the hearth, alone, where he stays for the evening, supplimenting the basic meal with light reading from of the Elven Artifact tome he had procured from the late Oliver's shop. Yet try as he might, the past still troubles him. Passing Silverymoon earlier in the day brought back many unfond memories of their troubles there and fears of the Drow, no doubt still around the city. Hopefully their brief presence went undectedted and they managed to ride off without the Drow's knowing. Then again...perhaps not. The idea was one he could not escape that evening, and the warmth of the hearth comforted him little. The vilest of the elves, he thought to himself. He would be glad to leave the area entirely in the morn, hopefully not to return for some time. Slowly, Xalen dozed off by the fire, book in hand, and litte more than cloudy thoughts in his head....

[This message has been edited by Crawl (edited September 06, 2001).]

Pheldas, after a short meal, headed to the room, where he could rest. The group seemed to be reasonable enough, and their quest - intriguing. But, all thoughts to the side, thought the mage, now I need rest.
Before locking the door into the room, Pheldas found a piece of parchment and wrote a few lines.

"The rest of mine be underway, and it be asked not to disturb the tenant in any case short of the Black Doom himself charging in here. If you have any requests concerning magic, or wish to suggest a wise use of spells I am able to provide, stick a piece of parchment under the door. All input will be read as soon as I be awake."

Pheldas stuck the message to the door, cancelled the light spell in his room, and turned to sleep.

[This message has been edited by Skedaddle (edited September 06, 2001).]

Calin pondered his actions of the previous day. He had lept into battle, charging madly. This was quite unlike him. I suppose I am trying to fill the void Bayne left, Calin mused. That sort of strategy seems to put opponents off balance. Calin surreptiously observed his companions. Pimm, the surly cleric. Calin believed Pimm cared more then he woud ever admit. Xalen, the xenophobic human. Calin thought, "That one must have had tragic experiences with elves at some point. Perhaps it was drow, who knows?" Pheldas, the benovolent mage. Not knowing Pheldas well, Calin had to assume Pheldan's character from his immediate actions. He ran out to help protect me, Calin thought. And finally, Elviendra. Suddenly realizing he had let his gaze linger a little to long, Calin snapped his gaze forward, a blush suffusing his cheeks. He chided himself for acting like a child. Something about her seems to throw me off, Calin pondered, I wonder why it could be. Calin knew a lot of Moon Elves, having lived among them all his life in their colony at Evereska.

Ah well, Calin thought. Time to rest.

Edit: OOc: oops, sorry.

[This message has been edited by The Word (edited September 07, 2001).]

Being just inside the Silver Moon Gate, the entrance to Everlund which leads out toward Silverymoon, The Battered Hat is a comfortable site. Inside, the inn is decorated with stags heads, old maps, ancient weapons, and one notable wyverns skull sporting an old dilapidated hat (that for which the inn is named). The Halflings who run the inn scurry about, serving and entertaining the guests who are all having a grand time. At the bar in Nevrin Gultree, the son of the inn's founder Nander Gultree.

OoC: Calin, unless I'm mistaken, Xalen is a Human not a gnome. At least that is what his character sheet says.

Maybe it was just the fact that they were so small, but "little" people, with the exception of dwarves, entertained Albrechto to no end. As far as he was concerned you're not on an adventure unless there are little people involved somehow. Half the size (or less) of a human, they always seem to exhibit at least twice the energy.

The other members of the Ascore expedition had turned in dissapointingly early. Xalen appeared to be extremely upset with himself at his performance with the ogre that afternoon, although he'd been in a bad mood since they came within spitting distance of Silverymoon. Pimm hadn't been so thrilled himself with being so close to Silverymoon. He bitterly recalled the town magistrate explaining to him and Xalen (referring to them as 'the criminals') that their services were no longer needed and the adventurers would not be protected from the vengeful drow that they had foiled, for the benefit of the city guard.

Pheldas, the mage, had turned in extremely quickly and without a word. He seemed to be a very quiet thoughtful person, hard to figure out. And the elves, who knows what happened with them, they just dissapeared, they probably rented a room together, again.

So for the time being, Pimm sat there at the bar in the Battered Hat watching halflings running around serving the various customers coming and going. As each mug of ale went down, he became more cheerful at the site of the little ones shooting about. He'd been in a great mood since the ogre fell anyway, the mad thoughtless charge he's performed right under the ogres club followed by some nice solid contact with his morning star was exhilarating, and had really brought him out of the low spirit he'd been in since nearing Sliverymoon.

After the fourth, no maybe fifth mug, (who's counting?) he leaned across the bar to grab the attention of the little fellow tending.

"Nevrin, right? Fantastic establishment you have here. Can I have your ear for a moment... I'll have another ale please, and I was wondering if you might know of any nice em... gamehalls, where one might fatten, or I suppose, empty his purse?"

(Ooc: Yes Baldak you're correct Xalen is a human, not a gnome.)

[This message has been edited by ArtEChoke (edited September 07, 2001).]

Halfway through the night, Pheldas woke up, his mind clear. Light, was his thought. None of light spells were in his head, so he lighted a candle which made things around much clearer. Before preparing spells, he opened Excerpts from biography of Obarskyr Royal Family of Cormyr by Alaphondar Emmerask.
Flipping through well-known pages brought him to a thought. Throughout the centuries, Cormyr relied on the strenght of its army, its history knows a lot of courageous warrior kings. Yet, from the foundation of the Forest Country, wizards were not known by common folk or nobles to be very important or valuable to the realm. More, some of the greatest Cormyrean conflicts within and outside involved mages. People have a stereotype of a wizard - a man who craves power and cares not of the methods. That it was, is, and probably will be in Cormyr. Pheldas once again rejoiced on his decision to leave his home and pursue his study of magic. Not all destinations hold friends, and luckily, his did. Not all routes are safe, but most hold challenges. Not all battles are won but not all others are lost. Yes, he is not yet an accomplished wizard, but his passion will no longer be interrupted by prejudice. On this bright note, he had shut The Excerpts closed and opened his spellbook.
My new way holds action quite often, he whispered, starting with some of spells which can aid him and his friends in battle if one was to come. Not that I am desperate for some sword slashing, but it is good to be prepared...

[This message has been edited by Skedaddle (edited September 07, 2001).]

Nevrin peered over the bar at the human. "Another ale it is." He gazed at Pimm for more than a long moment. Then Nevrin spoke softly, "Well friend, if it is gaming you have in mind, there are many a back alley which holds a game or two. But, for a meager 5 silvers, I can direct you to a much safer locale. If you know what I mean."

I have compiled a list w/descriptions of all teh new feats from the guidebooks. Any one interested ifn receiving a copy, send me an e-mail. I have it in two formats: Microsoft Works Word Processor, and Wordpad.

[This message has been edited by Baldak Oakfist (edited September 07, 2001).]

Recieving the desirable response from the halfling, Albrechto grins and reaches into his purse.

He slides a gold coin across the bar, "Thank you sire, and keep the change."

"Me thinks that you have more coin than brains, but listen close." Nevrin's voice drops to a level that can only be heard by the two. "For the best games in town, you need to head over to The Dreaming Dragon. It is a tavern near the Downriver Gate. To get there, head up the main road towards the center of town. take the first right and keep taking rights until you reach the gate. When you look over to your right, you will see The Dreaming Dragon. Don't go in through the front door, go around back to the rear entrance. Knock like this." Nevrin taps on the bar; tap,tap,tap - tap,tap - tap,tap,tap,tap. "Someone will open the door slightly, and you must say 'the moon gate shines of silver'. then you are in. the games are in the cellar which this door leads to."

In preparation for his night out, Pimm rents a room at the Battered Hat (finally), again asking the proprietors for a room with a substantial lock on it.

In his room he leaves his basic belongings (the backpack, bedroll, etc.) and his spare weapons and shield. Hastily he separates *around* 300 gold coins (who's counting?), fastens his morning star at his belt, leaves his room, locks his door, and with a nod to the bartender, heads out into the streets of Everlund.

Albrechto in his partly inebriated state, follows the directions the halfling gave him. Albrechto's distractable nature and slight paranoia keep him from getting there with extreme haste (looking around at what everybody else is doing in the town square, coupled with looking over his shoulder often for muggers and cutthroats), but eventually he makes enough rights until he gets to the Dreaming Dragon.

There he takes a quick glance around for trouble, and descends down the alleyway, to the rear door. He mutters a light prayer to Shandukal, and with his gauntleted hand raps on the door: tap,tap,tap - tap,tap - tap,tap,tap,tap.

Then he stands and waits for someone to come to the door.

Pim can hear the sound of several bolts being unfastened as the door is unlocked. Slowly the door opens just a crack. Pimm then hears a voice wispering, "What do you want?"

As soon as last of his spells was prepared to be released, Pheldas closed his spellbook, locked it and hung it oh his belt under the cloak. His mind slowly returned to the normal pace, after a draining mental task of preparing spells. It was not yet very close to dawn, the mage noted. I should have missed a lot of fun, turning in so early yestereve, he thought. Something might still be going on down there.

Pheldas blew the flame off the almost-molten candle, leaving the room in the dark. He snatched his dagger from the table and tucked it behind the belt too, not to show it to anyone. He then exited the room and headed downstairs.

Ah, so lively here! he shined, seeing quite some clients being served with ale and food. Pheldas came up to the barkeep, and addressed the master, trying to be as friendly as possible.

"My greetings, master Nevrin! Your establishment is just brilliant, very much to my liking!" A thought of ordering some good ale flashed in his head, and he quickly evaluated the posible consequences. "I will gladly have something of a drink, something soft, that will not make me dance on the table and yell goblin war cries, if you know what I mean." Pheldas chuckled and continued - "Anything intriguing happening in the city lately?"

"The moon gate shines of silver." Pimm recites woodenly to the voice behind the door.

Peering sideways back across the alley surveying the darkness around him, he looks back to the door, and eagerly awaits a response.

The door in front of Pimm opens revealing a small room beyond and a halfling, standing guard holding a crossbow. "Straight through and down the stairs." he says to Pimm. "Enjoy."

Nevrin glances at Pheldas. "Well if you're interested in a tale of local happenings, then go over to that table and listen to the very tall fellow." Nevrin points across the room. "That's Ruldorn 'The Storm Ranger' just in from the mountains. He always knows what is going on. As for drink, If you want something that won't knock your socks off, I suggest the cider. Tis in season, and this years crop was very tasty."

[This message has been edited by Baldak Oakfist (edited September 09, 2001).]

"Of course, thank you sire," says Pimm as he steps inside the door casually surveying the lilliputian guard at the door.

It had not previously dawned on Albrechto that the entire establishment could be run by halflings. To him, that was a very good sign, halflings always seemed to be such good natured people, or at least, he thought, (perhaps naively) that they'd be less likely to stab you in the back for no good reason. Then again, he had heard stories about halflings wielding great illusionary magics, and perhaps illusions and gambling weren't the best combination for a solitary gambler...

"Well," thought Pimm, "I'll have to keep an eye open for that sort of thing I suppose..." then raising an eyebrow to his own faulty logic, "how, Albrechto does one look for an illusion?"

Ignoring his own thoughts of caution, Pimm, transgressed the small room, and thirstily descended the stairs to the den beneathe.

"Cider? Of course, cider be a fine drink. Pour me some."
Sipping cider, Pheldas settled at a free table and looked around the tavern. a fine drink, he thought. The wyvern skull on the wall popped up a mental image of wyvern skeleton charging at him. Uh, maybe not that good of a drink!, the mage laughed at the twisted image in his mind. The undead were nowhere to be seen since the haunted house in Quaevarr, but... Blasted zombie made a meal of my crossbow. - even the recalling of this was humiliating for Pheldas, and he, quickly finishing his drink, asked the little barkeeper:
"Sire, I am sure you would know of a good place for me to purchase a fine weapon..."
He then put a gold coin on the counter, in hope the halfling will not dismiss him as a fool, who wishes to buy arms at night. No, dealers who sell good gear are open to business whenever needed, especially in a city as big as this one.

[This message has been edited by Skedaddle (edited September 09, 2001).]

Nevrin finished serving another patron, and looked over at Pheldas. "Sir, One can buy anything at the Bell Market, and unless you wish to buy a bow, that is where I would recomend you go. If you want a bow, then I would go to 'The Bent Bow', It is located on the edge of the Bell Market."

The Stairs led downward and opened up to a smokefilled room. There were several tables located around the room each with a different game occuring at it. Two Dice tables, four games of cards, a roulette wheel, and darts. Standing just inside the room, next to the entrance there was a very large half-orc. From his looks he must be the bouncer. The dice game was being run by a half-elf, the roulette wheel, by a human, The card games were run by either an elf or a halfling, two of each. The bar was located in the far corner, tended by a rather gruff looking dwarf. "Pardon *hic* me, sir" a drunk-looking halfling bumped into Pimm, and then staggered up the staris and out the door.

Thoughts of his 'friend' Phineus come to Pimm's half foggy mind and he quickly checks to see if his personal belongings are still intact.

Morning Star, yes, still intact, then again why would a thief go after a filthy adventurers side arm? A sigh of relief... his purse is still there, though the contents therein are questionable.

Cards weren't Pimm's game, too many rules, too many cards to count, too many people to keep track of, no fun at all. He wasn't a big fan of darts either, just didn't have the throwing ability.

Thr roulette wheel, now that's what he was after. Provided it wasn't fixed, which he'd have to look out for, the wheel was his idea of fun, no training, no rules, just put your money down and see if you get lucky. Pimm heads straight for the roulette table and addresses the operator.

"Hello friend, what's the minimum wager? Is there a maximum?" he asks with a grin.

(Ooc: Baldak, I'm assuming that if I was pickpocketed by the halfling it would have been in the post... if I am incorrect [heh] let me know and I'll alter the post.)

Pheldas left the inn and headed towards the Bell Market, updating his directions with bypassers. He has finally found the place called 'The Bent Bow', and reaziled that the store was closed... "Durned halfling, couldn't tell..." he cursed and turned back, thinking of attempting a tour around the place.

OoC Durned Halfling! ;)



[This message has been edited by Skedaddle (edited September 10, 2001).]

OoC: Skedaddle, when you arived in Everlund it was evening, and Art hasn't finished carousing for the night, so the Bent Bow will not be opened until the following morning. Art, upon checking your purse, you discover that the coin is all there, but a note has been added.

Garnor, glanced over at Pimm, "If you want to play, the minimum is 1 gp. You can, however, use silver and play it in 10 different locations. Any bet over 500 gp must be approved by Mr. Apelton." Garnor speaks to the patrons at the table, "Place your bets, the wheel will run again in just a minute so be quick."

[This message has been edited by Baldak Oakfist (edited September 10, 2001).]

"'Any bet over 500...,'" Pimm thinks to himself, "I should have brought more gold, hmm, well 25 should be enough to start me off."

Pimm removes his gauntlet for the purpose of counting his money, and carelessly plunges his hand into his purse, coming up with a fistfull of coins and a small piece of parchment, that, to his knowledge, hadn't been there before.

"Oh...." is all he manages to utter. He reluctantly drops his coins back into his purse. "Perhaps I'll get the next round sire," he says to the table operator.

Pimm moves to the far corner of the room, and situates himself at the bar. "Excuse me your dwarvishness," he says to the bartender, "might I have an ale?" Looking back at the size of the note, and back to the bartender, "sorry sire, better make that a shot instead."

With that, Pimm straightens out the parchment and reads...

the note reads: 'You and your friends are being followed. If you would like to know more, come to the Bell Market just outside the Bent Bow. Look for the halfling wearing blue boots and a red hat.' it is signed a Friend. The bottom has a symbol stamped on. It looks like a crescent moon with a Harp incribed.

Pimm, looks up from the note. The jolly mood he was in, completely shattered. The alcoholic daze he was in is suddenly replaced by an adrenaline induced daze.

Slowly he scanns the room, taking in each human and humanoid at work and at leisure. He glances back at the barkeep, and wordlessly places a few silvers next to the untouched shot of whiskey he had ordered.

Still searching the room for enemies, he slowly makes his way to the stairs with his hand close to his morning star.

Trying to maintain his calm he slowly climbs the short stairway. Pimm nods to the halfling guard at the door, and opens the door letting himself out.

Looking into the dark of the alley, he curses at himself for putting himself in the situation. Sanctuary should last him long enough to get to the town square at least, and from there it should be a relatively safe walk - he hoped.

Completing his prayer, he equips his cudgel, and walks out of the alley, making left turns until he comes to the center of town. Once he hits the main road he calms, comforted by the presence of more pedestrians littering the street, and as opposed to his initial jaunt out, he focuses straight ahead and makes his way directly back to the Battered Hat.

As he gets to the steps he can't restrain himself and runs up the few steps remaining between the street and the safety of the Inn.

The market sightseeing tour of Pheldas' turned bad with no light and no stores of interest open to sneak in, so the mage cursed himself for even getting away from the inn. He then slowly headed back towards it, thinking if it is worth to invoke some magical light or not...

Nevrin, seeing Pimm and Pheldas return to the Inn, welcomes the two back. "How was the excursion, to the Bell Market and yours to the Downriver Gate? The Bar is still open if you're interested."

Though it had only been a few hours, Calin was more or less rested. Gazing about, he realized that a couple of the late-nighters were missing. Frowning slightly, Calin made his way to the bar. Sitting on a stool, Calin spoke to the bartender, "Could you tell me where my erstwhile companions are?" To make it worth the barkeep's while, Calin ordered an expensive Elven wine, waiting his answer.

OoC: I too, wish for a bow, and another Short Sword. (I am deciding to properly harness that +4 dex mod. weapon finesse: short sword, dual wielding those small blades will give me a nice bonus.)

From the shadows alongside the inn, Elviendra watched her new companions returning from their carousing. Thinking that Pimm looked a bit unnerved as he bolted up the few steps to the door, she sighed and decided to return inside. Since she had decided to throw her lot in with theirs, it was perhaps best to find out what his trouble might be. Putting away wistful thoughts of quiet solitude, she returned to the bustle of the aromatic in with a grimace of distaste. With any luck, they would leave this place soon. The forest would be much more pleasant at this time of night.

Pausing just inside the door, Elviendra looked around until she spotted Calin seated at the bar. Well, perhaps now would be a good time to get better aquainted with some of my new friends. With that thought, she pulled her cloak close to avoid soiling it against the other customers and strode quickly across the room.

With a quick glance and a teasing smile, she spoke quietly to the gold elf. "‘Quel undome, mellonamin. Cormamin lindua ele lle. Amin naa lle nai."

Before he could respond, she switched back to common and nodded in the direction of Pimm and Pheldas. "Perhaps we could begin by discovering what troubles your friends?"

Xalen had rested most of the night undisturbed by the fire, but now his sleep was obviously plauged. Tossing and turning, he grimaced as visions corrupted his slumber. Suddenly, he awoke with a start, his eyes darting about the room. Slowly, he calmed down and groggily rubbed his eyes and matted his hair down, realizing that there were still patrons in the bar. He straightens himself in the chair and puts his still opened book away for later. Stretching, he rises, muttering somthing intangable but seemingly having something to do with his choice of lodgings for the evenings. Shaking aways his slumber, he realizes that his new companions are still in the bar. Late bunch he thinks to himself. After checking his belongings, he walks over to the bar and motions for the bartender.

"Sir, might you have some water? My throat is horridly dry from sleeping by the fire." The bartender, obviously displeased at handing out water, scoops some out of a bucket and hands Xalen a small glass. He quickly downs it, unsavory flavor aside, and thanks the barkeep with a slight grimace. Looking down the bar, he sees the two elves, cohorting about Helm knows what. Back at the door, he sees Pimm, obviously shaken, and that new mage fellow, obviously disgruntled. Thinking twould be better conversation with those two, he heads over to Pimm and slaps him on the back. About to start a conversation, he thinks otherwise after smelling the strong stench of alcohol on him. He backs up a few steps and begins again. "What seems to be bothering you two gentlemen this evening...err morning...umm, exatly what time is it?"

A wave of relief washes over Pimm as he enters the inn. To make matters even less comlicated it seems that his colleagues are already up and about, in fact a quick survey of the room shows that yes... each and all are present.

And they are all staring at Pimm.

He realizes slowly that a running half drunk priest in a cold sweat certainly is an interesting sight, and he laughs, again, relieved.

Looking over at Xalen, grinning, "I have no idea what time it is, but it does appear that we can not seem to stay out of trouble, no matter where we go..."

Glancing over at the bar at his elven companions jabbering in some elvish tongue, "Xalen, Pheldas, we should join our sylvan friends over at the bar for a moment, before I get some sleep. And no I don't expect you to drink with me..."

Pimm seats himself near Calin and Elviendra. "Well Nevrin, my little journey was quite eventful, but I didn't get much gambling done unfortunately. Thank you for the tip, by the way, I think it was fortuitous for me in a way quite different than I had indended. Oh, may I have a shot of the strongest liquor you have? I'll be needing some rest this evening..."

With that Pimm relates his brief sojourn to the Dreaming Dragon, the 'drunk' halfling and the note in his purse. Punctuating his story - growing blurrier by the moment Albrechto guns his shot down, and slaps a gold coin on the counter. "Thank you sire," He says to the bartender, "and gentlemen... and lady, wake me in the morning, I'm in need of sleep - and prayer, good night."

Then Pimm trundles off to his room.

"So it seems Harpers have interest in your task. Would it not be wise to go and meet that friend the note speaks of? It might be a trap, might be not, but it is worth checking. Petty ruffians are unlikely to impersonate Harpers, and Harpers work in mysterious ways. I cannot tell if the insignia is forged. Harpers... If so, it would seem, you've crossed powerful people on your way... So it would seem..." Pheldas finished calmly, waiting if his companions have something to say.

Xalen quietly walks to the bar and places his palms flat against it as he stares towards the end, not at anything in particular it seems. He just stares for a minute, cold, and long. To some perhaps he just looks again dispondant, but for a change fear is flowing over him, sending chills across his flesh. Pimm in his state perhaps didn't think about what exactly that note could mean, but deep down, the note brings back memories of past troubles and those memories grip Xalen tightly, almost suffocating him. After a moment, he turns facing his new traveling group, staring for a brief moment at each one of them before speaking...

"I don't presume to know any of you. I won't pretend I know you, or even like you. But right now I fear for all of our safety. I know we only just met a couple of days ago, and I had hoped perhaps to have a fresh start with you all. But seems haunting memories from the past are more than just memories. Perhaps myself and Pimm haven't been forthcoming about certain things with you all; perhaps you might even want to say we have not been quite honest, and that might be fair. Yes, we...at least I have had run-ins with the Harpers before. And quite honestly I had hoped not to see them again for sometime unless they came bearing good news...obviously not the case here. I fear that whoever may be following us is the reason we wanted as far away from Silverymoon yesterday as we could get. Please, I know you don't owe me this, but sit, allow me to try, best as I might, to relay both mine and Pimm's past from Silverymoon...I think now, perhaps, you all need to know..."

Xalen motions for the party to sit as he tries as best he can to run down the events that led to himself and Pimm meeting the rest of the group. From the simple murder investigation to their runin with the powerful drow Er Cam to his eventual meeting with the Harper before they left the city, Xalen explains their past as best he can and what now, it seem at least, could be their future..."And so my friends, if it *is* what I fear, then we might have drawn more attention during our pass near Silverymoon than I had hoped. If this Harper does mean to tell us of the Drow being near, I think we need to make haste in finding him so we can prepare. I for one do *not* want this Drow getting the jump on me again. What do you say?"

What has started as an interesting story has suddenly turned dangerous and gained a hint of hopelessness as Xalen progressed his tale. Pheldas sat at his stool, staring in one point. That is just great! Drow! What in the nine hells has a dark elf to do with those? By the Purple Wyrm, they are heading in the most dangerous direction! And... I am following. And what am I to do? They are still alive, and, seems so, have seen a lot of battle. Run to safe? Never did, never will. So, to go on is the way. Pheldas took a minute to clear his thoughs and shake off that sudden shock. He decided not to take more drinks, to keep his head clear for the time ahead. Slowly, he started evaluating the good point of travelling with the group. "I must get to know them better, if we are to work together... And Harpers, we'll see about them soon."
With this though, Pheldas has established his mood for the upcoming day.

[This message has been edited by Skedaddle (edited September 11, 2001).]

Calin sat somewhat bemused, and replied, "Mori'Quessir" Damn. Drow, I hate drow. Calin continued, "My people are pledged to battle the drow, I shall continue with you. The drow are not to be underestimated. You should have told us the details in the beginning, but I can see why you didn't inform us of the details." Calin glanced to Elviendra, "Dagor i'Mori'Quessir?" Calin sighed. "I thought I had rested suffidciently, but I shallreturn to the reverie, to gather my strength."

"Of course, toror'Quess." As the elf moved to leave, Elviendra looked around nervously. Her gaze narrowed a bit as her eyes passed over Xalen.

"Perhaps it would be best not to be alone this eve," she spoke softly to Calin. "I would feel safer if we are two against any threats."

[This message has been edited by Darien Noella (edited September 12, 2001).]

Calin nodded slightly, whispering in elvish where his room was. Upon entering his room, Calin sat next to the door, relaxing himself. When Elviendra entered, he nodded to the window, indicating sh should sit next to it, for protection.