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Message: <blockquote data-quote="frostrune" data-source="post: 4761089" data-attributes="member: 12272">OOC:  We left that demon behind at Thistletop... behind that sealed bronze door.  One of us has an amulet that also serves as a key.  Jokad would not be voting for this option however.IC:  Finally he was feeling a bit better.  For all his bravado in savagely attacking breakfast two days ago it didn't stay down long.  In truth just yesterday he was able to eat moderately and the wound across his shoulder had stopped its incesant throbbing.  Danth had done his work well but the man-child was growing frustrated with his confinement and condition.... and isolation.They had been in town for two days and he had yet to see the hearth fire of a tavern or, more discouragingly, heard aught from Amryl.  Surely she knew he was back and of his predicament.  No warm breads or cool cloths.  BAH!  Fickle damn girl.  The others had been by to see him a few times.  They had discussed their plans.  He knew they were basically waiting on him before moving on to Magnimar.  Jokad was excited about his first visit to a big city but he rather enjoyed his bit of celebrity in this small town.  A celebrity that this damn bed was preventing him from enjoying!Tonight would be the night.  He laid low most of the day conserving his energy for one last hurrah before taking to the road again.  He bathed, shaved, and had his best clothes laundered.  There were other girls in this town and other taverns to haunt.  He would find both and leave a lasting impression.After sharing a hearty meal with Father Zanthus he set out to round up his friends.  First Jovik - he would be the easiest to convince.  Then Kael.  And finally Danth.  Seeing the others aligned against him would 'guilt' him out.They started at the Hagfish.  The rowdy crowd got the night rolling proper.  Jovik seemed to be having some luck at dice while the others drank and talked of their adventures with the locals.  You saw the gleam return to Jokad's eyes as he 'helped' the bar staff break up a brawl; tossing drunken fisherman into the murky harbor.Soon they rolled on to the Rusty Dragon.  Ameiko had been back in operation for some time and her matronly halfling inkeep greeted everyone warmly upon arrival.  Ameiko was very generous with her hospitality.  Exotic foods and bountiful drink were brought without our bidding.  Ameiko must have sensed the festive mood and stirred up the music a bit.  She began a graceful dance of her far off homeland.  Soon there were calls from across the tavern encouraging other patrons to do the same.  Jokad was full into his cups and hesitated only a little at the catcalls from a comely bar wench.  Despite his seemingly impaired condition he performed an athletic steppe dance with some modicum of skill.  Never one to be shy he soon had you all and many of the other patrons on the floor trying to teach it to you.  The comedy was pure gold and the few tumbles only made it all the better.  Before long Jokad had lost his shirt and was busy showing his two dance partners his newly aquired scars.  The laughs were the perfect medicine.  This is what life was all about after all.  To Jokad this is what made the risks of his job worthwhile.But all good things must come to an end.  Having weathered things a bit better than his companions Jokad made sure they all got home (though far later than the promised curfews).   He then enjoyed the silence of the night air on his walk toward the north end of town.  Not surprisingly the lights in the White Deer had burned low.  It catered to a less rowdy crowd than the other establishments.  Despite all the fun he had had he still couldn't help but think of Amryl.  He chided himself inwardly and started to head off toward the church.  He went around to the back of the building and reached for the simple latch.  It was then he noticed the thin crack of light from under the door.  Confused he called out softly, "Father Zanthus?".  There was a rustle within but no reply.  He knotted his brows in concentration trying to clear the wine fumes.  He mentally cursed himself as a fool for only carrying his dagger.  Never one to hesitate he burst through the door and into the small room to confront the intruder.The surprise on his face was evident.  His dagger dropped to the floor just before he was enveloped in an embrace of white hot limbs and auburn tresses.  With a casual kick, Jokad closed the door.</blockquote>

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