Leif's Homebrew 4E D&D Game, nee 'Leif's Keep on the Shadowfell' [IC #1] [FULL]

"Aye, I think whoever this spy is could be the reason for my visions here. The mention of Orcus is really unnerving, this can't be good." Khellek observes as they prepare to leave the area.

Before they go, Khellek will gather the bodies together to burn.
 

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The journey back to Winterhaven is uneventful, thank goodness, and soon the adventurers find themselves properly ensconced in Wrafton's Inn, with steaming plates of food before them, and plenty of good drink at their elbows.

[ooc: Am I getting ahead of ourselves? Seemed like a nosh might be in order before you do much else....]
 

The warforged sits at the table restless with this constant need of his companions to address bodily function and refuel with food and drink. "So where do we go now, the temple?"
 


The impatient Warforged seems to have developed a most annoying habit of clicking his maintenance panels open and closed again when he is frustrated with the time-consuming habits of his mortal companions. ;)
 

Tarrk

"Say, do you cannot have drink and fun, or do you just refuse to celebrate a victory?."
Tarrk says, grinning at Basher.

[sblock=OOC]


[sblock=Mini stat block]
Tarrk Bloodhoove
Perception: 19 Insight: 12 Normal Vision
AC 15 Fortitude 16 Reflex 12 Will 12
Hit Points: 36/36 Bloodied: 18
Temporary Hit Points: 0
Action Points: 1 Second Wind: 1
Healing Surge: 9 Surges per day: 11/11
At-Will Powers: Howl of Fury, Passing Strike
Encounter Powers: War Cry, Goring Charge, Shout of Terror
Daily Powers: Thunder Hoove's Rage
[/sblock][/sblock]
 

"Yes, back to the temple, after we rest for a few moments to recover our strength. Not all of us are as tireless as you, friend" Khellek adds.
 

OOC [FYI]: It's getting on toward late afternoon, now. The temple will likely be closed for the day very soon, if not already. You are among the early supper crowd at Wrafton's Inn.
 

The adventurers all continue eating until they are quite sated, their hunger satisfied and their thirst slaked. [OOC: Now what?]
 

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