Rhun's Greyhawk OMEGA Campaign (ToEE) - Continued

"Here's hoping the inn is still standing by the morning, which..." Aeron gets up from the table, wipes the last of his supper from his chin, and looks out a window, "doesn't look to be overly far off at this point. Good night, all. Vaseda." The elf's non-evil nature discerned, Aeron gives a nod of his head in recognition.

Aeron trudges off to whatever quarters, bath, and a bed that the good Ostler Gundigoot can procure. Will sleep late, then rise, pray, and go down for breakfast.
 

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At Zirat's beckoning, the serving wench quickly brings another round of the tasty stout ale.

Aeron excuses himself from the group, and makes his way to the inn's second floor, where he finds a decent sized private room, complete with wooden tub and feather bed. A chamber maid brings hot water and a chunk of soap for washing.
 

Approved.
Zirat calls to Merick and raise his mug once more. He drains the content and lift his hand for the maiden to fetch some more.

Sir Merrick nods and visibly relaxes. The threat of imminent violence seems removed and a brief smile crosses his face. "Very good. So tell us more of yourself Vaseda and how our little friend fares. Did he still have that devil of a cat? Its too bad that first ogre didn't strike down that foul-tempered beast instead of Jinx." Sir Merrick finally takes up a mug of ale and sets to the task of eating and listening to the newcomer's tales.
 

"Ah, where to begin? Well, my father is arcanist and decided as his only son that I should continue the family tradition, of which I'm grateful for. He was an evoker of some renown, which is probably why I chose to ignore that field of study, I myself have studied extensively the manifestation of objects, creatures, or energy, the transportation of creatures and objects over distances, and the creation of objects or effects, or in short, I am a conjuror. Aye, Jinx still carried that cat with him, I myself never understood the attachment that many wizards had with their pets. The gnome and Baubles are in good health, just recently entering into Pelor's church. He also informed me that his real name wasn't Jinx, but rather Bimpnottin Boddywink, something I was unaware of." Vaseda replies, taking a sip of his wine.

"I know very little of you, beyond a brief description from our gnomish acquantance, perhaps you can avail me of some more information about yourselves?" the elf adds.
 


"An alias. Hmm. Did he tell you of our adventures, the dangers we face and the evils we have fought? Did you come to join us and take his place? We can use another arm to strike out against the dark. It would be good to have two mages on our side when next we challenge a practitioner of the black arts. I would welcome another willing to join our cause."
 


Upstairs in his room, Aeron gets out of a tub of piping hot water. Refreshed, the priest looks at his pruny fingers and pink skin, then grimaces at the bits of turf, blood, and mud floating atop the water in his bath. "Glad to get that lot off me. Now to sleep. No loud crashes from downstairs, that's a good sign." After dressing and stowing his belongings under the bed for safety, Aeron belches up a bit of trout, then drops into bed and falls asleep.
 

"An alias. Hmm. Did he tell you of our adventures, the dangers we face and the evils we have fought? Did you come to join us and take his place? We can use another arm to strike out against the dark. It would be good to have two mages on our side when next we challenge a practitioner of the black arts. I would welcome another willing to join our cause."

"Hmmm.... well, I did travel here with that very hope, especially to battle practitioners of the dark arts. I would be glad to join you and offer what aid my magicks can provide." Vaseda replies, reaching across to again shake their hands, and lifts the glass of wine "A toast, to Jinx! May Pelor look after him"
 

Vaseda said:
He also informed me that his real name wasn't Jinx, but rather Bimpnottin Boddywink, something I was unaware of...
And somewhere in the dark and cold of dank night, little Jinx starts awake, sure that his number is up. Eyes wild with fear and paranoia, Jinx wildly looks 'bout the room. Finding nothing other than his bedchamber, the gnome falls to petting his beloved Bauble and nattering himself back to sleep o'er thoughts of what wickedness shall come his way. :p
 

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