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<blockquote data-quote="arwink" data-source="post: 582428" data-attributes="member: 2292">Saturday, August 19th, 518 AF, Continued The gaunt hermit comes charging up through the driving rain.&quot;Hello strangers,&quot; he calls, his voice full of undisguised glee.&nbsp; &quot;Welcome back.&quot;Del's wearing few furs that last time the group saw him.&nbsp; A simple loin-cloth and several uncured pelts over his shoulders.&nbsp; He crouches down to talk the four adventurers, putting himself at eye level as they huddle against the rock.&quot;Fine weather, isn't it?&quot;&quot;It could be better,&quot; Taranos says sullenly.&nbsp; &quot;What are you doing out in the storm?&quot;&quot;Bathing,&quot; Del says.&nbsp; He stands for a moment and scrubs at his wirey body.&nbsp; &quot;Nothing better than a rainstorm for getting clean.&quot;Durhon grunts and edges away from Warwind when the elf grins and dips a hand towards the belt-pouch containing the soap cake.&quot;Why are you back in the hills?&quot; Del asks.&nbsp; Taranos shrugs.&quot;Back to the ruins,&quot; he explains.&nbsp; &quot;We killed the dragon, but we missed the robed men.&quot;Del hisses slightly.&quot;Don't go, don't go,&quot; he says wildly.&nbsp; &quot;The dead walk there, always walking, and...&quot;He squint's, eyeing the four adventurers carefully.&quot;Well, it's dangerous.&nbsp; To dangerous perhaps.&nbsp; Somebody would need furs to go in there, furs that lets them know what someone thinks they shouldn't.&nbsp; The merchant wont come this month, been staying away while the dragon was around.&nbsp; Strangers are lucky Del still has fresh furs...&quot;Durhon grunts again, spitting a small mouthful of rainwater.&quot;Everyone wants money,&quot; he grumbles.&nbsp; &quot;Ferkin dragon didn't even have any gold.&quot;Warwind glares at him and hands over the gold.&quot;What help can you give us?&quot; he asks warily.&nbsp; Del hands over a partially cured and very damp rabbit pelt.&nbsp; Warwind picks it up by a corner, nose wrinkling in distaste.&quot;New strangers are there,&quot; Del hisses through the rainfall.&nbsp; &quot;Strangers from town not two days ago.&nbsp; An ugly man with a black cloak, and another wearing robes.&nbsp; Dangerous, they look.&nbsp; Townsfolk working with robed priests.&nbsp; It's never been good for the hills before.&quot;&quot;How does the rabbit skin help us?&quot; Warwind asks.&nbsp; Durhon chokes on a laugh.&quot;The information, Treehugger,&quot; he grunts.&nbsp; &quot;Subtle though he was, it was the price for the information.&quot;Warwind stops midway through a detect magic cantrip.&nbsp; Fortunately, it's hard to see the elf blush through the rain and darkness.&quot;Thanks,&quot; he says.&nbsp; &quot;Are you sure you can't resell this?&quot;Del shakes his head as the elf offers the pelt.&quot;Nooo, no, no.&nbsp; It's yours now, fair and square.&nbsp; Remind you to be careful when you chase after the strangers.&nbsp; Maybe even keep you safe from the dead ones.&quot;Warwind looks doubtful.&nbsp; Taranos thanks Del for his help and the Hermit nods in glee, biting down on the coppers Warwind gave him for the skins.&nbsp; After he's convinced they're real, he stands and starts skipping off into the rain.&quot;Good luck, strangers.&nbsp; Be careful.&nbsp; Come see me if ye ever need a pelt again.&quot;There's a bright flash of lightening, and they see Del's scrawny cappering wilding down the hill.&quot;Crazy bastard,&quot; Durhon spits.&nbsp; They settle down to make the best of it, and discover Yip has already managed to find a comfortable and almost dry patch beneath an overhang of rock.&nbsp; The kobold is softly snoring, asleep.</blockquote>

[QUOTE="arwink, post: 582428, member: 2292"] [I]Saturday, August 19th, 518 AF, Continued [/I] The gaunt hermit comes charging up through the driving rain. "Hello strangers," he calls, his voice full of undisguised glee. "Welcome back." Del's wearing few furs that last time the group saw him. A simple loin-cloth and several uncured pelts over his shoulders. He crouches down to talk the four adventurers, putting himself at eye level as they huddle against the rock. "Fine weather, isn't it?" "It could be better," Taranos says sullenly. "What are you doing out in the storm?" "Bathing," Del says. He stands for a moment and scrubs at his wirey body. "Nothing better than a rainstorm for getting clean." Durhon grunts and edges away from Warwind when the elf grins and dips a hand towards the belt-pouch containing the soap cake. "Why are you back in the hills?" Del asks. Taranos shrugs. "Back to the ruins," he explains. "We killed the dragon, but we missed the robed men." Del hisses slightly. "Don't go, don't go," he says wildly. "The dead walk there, always walking, and..." He squint's, eyeing the four adventurers carefully. "Well, it's dangerous. To dangerous perhaps. Somebody would need furs to go in there, furs that lets them know what someone thinks they shouldn't. The merchant wont come this month, been staying away while the dragon was around. Strangers are lucky Del still has fresh furs..." Durhon grunts again, spitting a small mouthful of rainwater. "Everyone wants money," he grumbles. "Ferkin dragon didn't even have any gold." Warwind glares at him and hands over the gold. "What help can you give us?" he asks warily. Del hands over a partially cured and very damp rabbit pelt. Warwind picks it up by a corner, nose wrinkling in distaste. "New strangers are there," Del hisses through the rainfall. "Strangers from town not two days ago. An ugly man with a black cloak, and another wearing robes. Dangerous, they look. Townsfolk working with robed priests. It's never been good for the hills before." "How does the rabbit skin help us?" Warwind asks. Durhon chokes on a laugh. "The information, Treehugger," he grunts. "Subtle though he was, it was the price for the information." Warwind stops midway through a detect magic cantrip. Fortunately, it's hard to see the elf blush through the rain and darkness. "Thanks," he says. "Are you sure you can't resell this?" Del shakes his head as the elf offers the pelt. "Nooo, no, no. It's yours now, fair and square. Remind you to be careful when you chase after the strangers. Maybe even keep you safe from the dead ones." Warwind looks doubtful. Taranos thanks Del for his help and the Hermit nods in glee, biting down on the coppers Warwind gave him for the skins. After he's convinced they're real, he stands and starts skipping off into the rain. "Good luck, strangers. Be careful. Come see me if ye ever need a pelt again." There's a bright flash of lightening, and they see Del's scrawny cappering wilding down the hill. "Crazy bastard," Durhon spits. They settle down to make the best of it, and discover Yip has already managed to find a comfortable and almost dry patch beneath an overhang of rock. The kobold is softly snoring, asleep. [/QUOTE]

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