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Domhani Bairdéir 01

Béar at the Wick

Béar will will dress in his pants, trousers, and boots. Carrying his Mace (because he is accustomed to being not being without it) he will venture throughout the Inn following the smell.
 

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A Dark and Stormy Night

The storm rages on outside, the garish illumination from the lightening outside Béar's window alternating with slightly longer periods of pitchy black. The hallway is dimly lit by a few slow burning candles, but has no windows. Though he investigates carefully, the smell is thick enough on the first floor that it is impossible to determine exactly where it originates. The smell is noticeably less intense on the ground floor, and fades to non-existence as Béar ventures away from the stairway in any direction.

Scath will find that while the smell is stronger in the garret, he also is unable to determine the origin. The garret is a large open area with a few curtains set up to give the children some privacy (they sleep up here as well) and Scath's ability to move with stealth is more than a match for the sensibilities of the exhausted youngsters. He is able to investigate every inch of the garret and to determine that the smell is not coming from anywhere there.
 
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Scath

Take a look outside, when the lightning strikes and illuminates the area. Is there anything going onoutside which may be the source of the smell? Also open a window, if I can find one and see if the smell is more or less.
 

A Dark and Stormy Night

You can't see anything outside that seems out of the ordinary. The closest window you'll be able to use without going into someone's room will be on the ground floor in the common room.
 

Béar at the Wick

Béar looks and smells around for a while, but cannot find the source of the smell. So he goes back to his room and tries to get more rest.
 



A Dark and Stormy Night

Somehow, Scath and Béar manage to miss each other in their wanderings. Béar returns to bed, and Scáth goes downstairs and opens a window. Though its force is somewhat abated, the storm still rages outside and when the window is opened a rush of bracingly fresh and moisture laden air caresses Scáth's face and ruffles his wings. There is no hint of the bittersweet smell from upstairs on the outside breeze.
 

Athelstan's R.E.M.

Athelstan dreams of fish. Fantastically colorful fish swimming and diving and looping through beds of kelp and out amongst other lovely fish. Green-blue waters with clear, clean beds of sand and rock and coral below on the ocean bed. Athelstan dreams of fish all night and though he moves several times in his sleep, never does the dream escape his minds' eye or in any way become clouded or discombobulated with forces, be they subconcious or outside in the physical world. Athelstan dreams of fish all night long.

...zzz... mmfsh, ferghil... mmfra.... zzz... zzz...
 

Scath

I will enjoy the storm for a while, if having the window open does not seem to bother anyone else. Maybe close the window except for a slit and fall asleep on the sill, providing it is big enough.
 

Into the Woods

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