D&D 5E (IC) Fitz's Folly

[gargoyleking]

The Nameless took the opportunity to purchase both a meat pie to eat as well as a clean set of clothing that was more common in this city. As the group continued on he split off to go into the inn.

As he did he spoke. "It only takes one to tell a story. I'll tell mine here and perhaps listen to a few as well. I may not be here when you return."

Squirrels are evil!

 

[FitzTheRuke]

The Nameless finds comfort in the loose-fitting, airy colourful Chultan garb. In spite of the rain, the tempurature had not dropped and the air was thick and moist. He found the Thundering Lizard to be its usual place of loud chatter, this time over breakfast of spicey meats, eggs, and flatbreads.

 

[EarlyBird]

"A change o' clothes be good," Dellrak says as they near the Thundering Lizard.

Not sure how to take the monk's words, but it wasn't his job to babysit so, he let the man go off without a word.

OOC: Say 1/2 an hour to change/dry off, then continue on?

 

[FitzTheRuke]

Early though the hour was, the Wren was already in the Inn's common area, under an awning, speaking loudly to a group of chultans. He clearly noted the group's arrival but he made no obvious acknowledgement of it. The proprietor, on the other hand, had noticed the rooms had stayed empty and was concerned for the well-being of his patrons. He loudly greeted the arrivals and asked what had happened to them.

 

[gargoyleking]

Harb played the part of a man suffering the lingering effects of over indulgence well. He winced at every noise, the more-so the louder or more high pitched. His clothing was somehow still dripping and he showed it off as he responded to the innkeep. "I found an abundance of Chultan Medicine, but alas found naught but a gutter to sleep in."

This though was a signal to Wren of their basic level of success.

Stumbling through the common room he headed up to his room to clean up, change clothing and clean the salt from his equipment while he waited for Wren to slip away to recieve his report.

[sblock]Deception:: 1D20+4 = [14]+4 = 18
[/sblock]

Squirrels are evil!

 

[Kobold Stew]

Miss Imogen acknowledges the proprietor's question, but answers a different one. "If there were a bowl of soup, and some bread, that would be very nice. We're cold and damp, and we'll be heading out soon."

 

[Ancalagon]

Rodrigo was eager to report, but loathe to separate from the others. Besides, a short break sounded good. He thanked the inkeep for his concern, nodded in agreement with Miss Imogen and simply answered that they were caught in the rain.

As the group came upstairs, he made sure to intercept Dellrak and Chrysagon and told them in low terms "The seawater's salt is trapped in the various straps and padding of our armor, we will need some time later today to do maintenance, else I fear it won't last long"

Once in his room, he made sure to attend to his weapons immediately. The armor was too big a job for now, but the blades could be cleaned and oiled.

 

[Kobold Stew]

Rodrigo's concern for the armour frustrated Miss Imogen. The humidity in this place, let alone the rain they experienced last night, was devastating to her clothes, her armour, and her hair. All would need attention, but she was content to let it go for now.

Soup now, and when the others had joined her, time to go to report.

 

[EarlyBird]

"Ruin the armor, huh?" Dellrak mused. He had stayed quiet and grumpy of face, wishing the others to speak not trusting himself.

OOC: Deception -1 lol

 

[FitzTheRuke]

The proprietor nodded, let his questions end, and sent for soup.

The Wren left his friends "to piss" and found the Nameless man in a secluded spot. They exchanged much information while saying very little that would be understood by anyone who overheard them.

The Wren acknowledged Nameless' report with nothing to add beyond agreeing that Klevin VanSharen must be informed. He passed a name and address (which was not far away) of Alistair Bol, priest of Helm (and member of the Order of the Gauntlet) and said that the man was seeking aid in finding a missing colleague. (A mission that Nameless was sure would interest Chrysagon).