Shale laughs with joy and a bit of shame. You proved as unable to handle the 'Fyre as me, he says to Guard. Although it looks to have calmed you down a bit.
Shale looks around as, one after another, his new companions emulate his ill-fated effort. He tries not to laugh as flames spout from a variety of faces, and is even a little alarmed as the warforged seems to seize up and topple. If I'd known you all were so eager to court disaster, I would...
With a chagrined grimace, Shale wipes the remaining flames from his lip. Should have stuck with the three swallows, he groans, but that was good 'fyre. He fishes in his pocket for his two silver and slams them on the bar. Sorry, boys. It looks like we'll have to pay tonight after all.
Shale stretches his neck with a crack. Then here's to a night of mourning that will last until morning, he says with a determined grin. He then reaches down to grasp the stoneware vessel, feeling the heat of the flames through the solid material. He makes three quick passes across the open...
A bit of dragonfyre, if you have any, followed by a mug of dark ale, Shale says to the server, hardly noticing its incorporeal form. He glances at Rydan and winks. The 'fyre will cauterize the wound, after all, even if it doesn't kill the pain.
Shale looks around the inn, looking for a secluded area for them to sit and remember those they've lost. I've no need to be clandestine, he says to his new companions, but I see no need to share our business with others. Let those who have suffered the loss celebrate the lost. I've had enough...
Shale allows himself to smile at Firil's suggestion, in spite of the sorrow that still lingers. Yes, my father would appreciate such a ceremony much more than what we have witnessed here. Let us find this inn and show it how the scions of heroes honor their dead.
Agreed, Shale responds. I hope it is worth our time, but I can't imagine refusing to pursue such a lead. While I don't know what awaits us, I am honored to be facing it with all of you.
Shale finds himself smiling for the first time today as Ghavdrash suggests a much more fitting way to honor Slate and the others than the stuffy ceremony he knew his father would hate. Ay, my scaled friend, he says, that would make me happy indeed. I am already remembering quite a tale...