Wik
First Post
OOC: I'm going to assume Tarag shares a room with Galwynn. Because we're both thrifty. And Keldar and Tommy get along so well. Also, I'm assuming some things about my fellow adventurers, but I think it all makes sense.
When Galwynn awakes, he finds he's laughing. Blinking in the sun (he's a little hungover, apparently), he runs a hand through tussled hair, and smiles.
"I guess you're not all bad, Halina." He mutters. An early riser, he does his best not to wake the dwarf, but it doesn't seem to be working. He never could keep quiet.
Still chuckling, but quietly, he plays with his nose. "So, what's the sign? 'get ready for a mudbath?' Or maybe I shouldn't take myself so seriously? Believe me, I've understood that one - you beat it over my head when you stuck me with the thie... er, Keldar."
Galwynn grabs his sword, and throws on a shirt he had tossed on the floor. Buckling on his breeches, he goes to check up on his charges. Halina had put him here to take care of them, after all.
Tiptoeing down the hall, he is still making far too much noise. Both Tarag and Rapture would be up soon, no doubt, but it looks like Tommy and Keldar were going to be out for a while.
Peering in on their room, Tommy is asleep on his books and still dressed. He'd been studying for far too long; Galwynn didn't understand Tommy at all. And Keldar is face down on his bed, out cold.
"Bucket of cold water?" he asks quietly, listening for a moment. "Please? Ah, you're no fun."
He makes his way downstairs, and the inn is silent. Walking out into the courtyard, Galwynn makes his early morning prayers, and then runs through his sword exercises.
Both Rapture and Tarag are up by now. Galwynn goes to the kitchen, and starts up an early morning meal. His dream put him in a remarkably good mood, and when he heads upstairs balancing five plates, he has to stop himself from whistling one of Keldar's tunes. He places the plates outside of each door, and makes his way back to his room.
"Good morning, Tarag. Did you sleep well?" He asks, completely out of character.
Damn Halina for making him feel good. In a few hours, something - or many somethings - will be trying to break his ribs. And that tends to take the fun out of things.
When Galwynn awakes, he finds he's laughing. Blinking in the sun (he's a little hungover, apparently), he runs a hand through tussled hair, and smiles.
"I guess you're not all bad, Halina." He mutters. An early riser, he does his best not to wake the dwarf, but it doesn't seem to be working. He never could keep quiet.
Still chuckling, but quietly, he plays with his nose. "So, what's the sign? 'get ready for a mudbath?' Or maybe I shouldn't take myself so seriously? Believe me, I've understood that one - you beat it over my head when you stuck me with the thie... er, Keldar."
Galwynn grabs his sword, and throws on a shirt he had tossed on the floor. Buckling on his breeches, he goes to check up on his charges. Halina had put him here to take care of them, after all.
Tiptoeing down the hall, he is still making far too much noise. Both Tarag and Rapture would be up soon, no doubt, but it looks like Tommy and Keldar were going to be out for a while.
Peering in on their room, Tommy is asleep on his books and still dressed. He'd been studying for far too long; Galwynn didn't understand Tommy at all. And Keldar is face down on his bed, out cold.
"Bucket of cold water?" he asks quietly, listening for a moment. "Please? Ah, you're no fun."
He makes his way downstairs, and the inn is silent. Walking out into the courtyard, Galwynn makes his early morning prayers, and then runs through his sword exercises.
Both Rapture and Tarag are up by now. Galwynn goes to the kitchen, and starts up an early morning meal. His dream put him in a remarkably good mood, and when he heads upstairs balancing five plates, he has to stop himself from whistling one of Keldar's tunes. He places the plates outside of each door, and makes his way back to his room.
"Good morning, Tarag. Did you sleep well?" He asks, completely out of character.
Damn Halina for making him feel good. In a few hours, something - or many somethings - will be trying to break his ribs. And that tends to take the fun out of things.