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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Aust Thale" data-source="post: 9130628" data-attributes="member: 6804768">Falen:During Falen’s search of the Dwarf Merc, the Dusk Assassin and the candle shop, he dons his cloak.  The poison lingers and makes him cold.  After finishing the post-battle searches, healing, introductions (Rockhorn & Vitus, with whom Falen is mildly tickled), he settles on his course of action. “Vitus, hello again.”  Falen removes his hood and speaks to the young healer.  His visage is that if the Falen that the young man so eagerly wished to assist…and follow. “I’d ask that you please not mention me to the Delegacy.  I prefer my mundane comings and goings to be without mention.  Should anyone inquire, you may share that I am grateful for their hospitality, and I am carrying out my duties.  Of course I shall return if summoned.   And I shall join you this evening, perhaps at Stormgrove?” Falen hands both of his sacks of “loot” to the Palace Guard for inventory.   “Oh, wait!”  He removes the magical gloves of luck.  “Add these to the inventory.  However, you might refrain from mingling the contents of these with the rest of the items taken from the other combatants.  The Dusk’s tools warrant care; they are particular in their poison.   We’ll be along in due course to assist in sorting out what’s useful.”Falen finds himself wanting of carthasis after using the humanbane dagger.  Effective as it appears to be, he feels emotionally fatigued.  It might be the poison; its primary effects having waned, he felt the nausea of the residual.  He collects himself and sets about quietly accompanying the Elites as they collect their deceased and move them to the temple district or to their final resting place.  Oakfirst isn’t keen on the help; however he remains silent.  Falen nods at Tym and the others as they begin to walk to Stormgrove.  Falen will join them when this grim business is sorted.  He follows Capt. Camburn’s attendants closely enough to avoid trouble from other Elites or city guards, but far enough away that the Captain’s brethren, including Oakfirst, shouldn’t feel intruder upon. Upon delivery of Camburn and the other Elites, Falen takes a moment alone where others can’t see him near a planter-tree and retches.  His mouth tasting of bile, he reaches into his pack and takes his magical cup and gulps deeply.   He says an appreciative prayer to Tyche, and he pulls his hood down over his hat and changes his visage to the Aceron turdnugget…er…young man. He walks back to Stormgrove, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. Upon arriving at Stormgrove, he finds an unoccupied bedroom or room with a wash-basin, cleans himself up, and washes his tunic and clothes, setting them to dry for a few hours.  He dons his spare set, studies his spell research, and quietly meditated until he falls asleep. He is deeply troubled after the battle and the apparent deep distrust among Bluffside’s various factions, including its defenders.  “These people are rapidly losing their  perspective.  This Phelix won’t need many monsters if the good folks do nothing.  What an incredible shame.”He sleeps a sleep of a spy.  One who isn’t sure what happens next.</blockquote>

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