The Bell and Anchor is a well-lit, warm inn, the largest in town and the only taproom frequented by both miners and fisherman. The Party pushes their way through the front doors, and are almost immediately taken by the strange decorations that hang from the walls - a run of broken swords, cracked armor and aging dragons teeth. Hanging from a chandelier, pointing towards a wax-spattered table, is a dragons talon the length of a man's forearm. In a glass case against one of the walls, a diary and an aging battle-axe are kept in a small glass cabinet. There are a number of patrons, talking to one another in low-piched tones. There are prominant bags under the eyes of many, and several of the party pick up scraps of conversation turning unnecesarily sharp or angry as they move towards the bar. Even Tokket, the half-elven bartender, seems to be moving sluggishly.
Well fed after Othic's genorosity, most of the party focuses on sleep rather than carousing. They quickly pay for five seperate rooms, the only people choosing to share being Sara and Stavros. The pair have a long established sleeping arangement - Sara gets the bed, while Stavros's job is to lay against the door jam with his sword nearby, blocking the draft and well-placed in the event of an attack. Used to such spartan sleeping conditions after life among his people, Stavros rarely complains about this arrangement, and his position has even saved their lives in one instance. Even so, he's slowly learned enough of civilised man's ways to realise the bed is something of a luxury, maybe even a status symbol, and he complains even as he wraps a cloak around his backpack to use as a pillow.
While half the party heads for bed, the other half puts in some quality time with the taproom. Herne spends much of the evening squinting through the dusty glass of the display case, trying to read the diary. Talon spends some time circulating among the locals, hoping to pick up a few new bits of lore he hasn't yet learned. Stavros is still bruised and battered from being dragged by a galloping horse, and decides he should soothe the pain by sampling the best of the house ales.
Herne is the first of these to retire. The book in the glass case turns out to be a diary, particularly the memories of a dwarven warrior who was involved in the slaying of Seluri's dragon. He reads for a while, takes a few notes, and contemplates breaking into the cheap lock that holds the case shut and taking a closer look. In the end, however, the case leaves him just a little to exposed for such skullduggery, and he figures he's learned enough to earn some sleep.
Talon talks to many of the townsfolk, but mostly spends his time talking with Tokkey. He doesn't learn much that he didn't already know, but does pick up a few additions. OF particular interest to him was Tokket's theory that the town had insulted a god, and that the dreams were a vengence curse. He also learns the reason why the townsfolk seem so subdued in their plight, seemingly willing to bear the effects of the sleepless nights without trying to end them - the local seer, Utrish, has seen that the dreams will end in about a week. This information makes Talon feel slightly better about the town. Their seeming refusal to take steps to end their plight had left him confused and frustrated, and not a little wary of their motives. Satisfied that the folk of Seluri aren't mad, lazy or simply stupid, Talon heads off to bed feeling slighly better about his presence in the town.
Stavros drinks for hours, well into the darkest portions of the night. He outlasts most of the townsfolk, and definately drinks more than any of them. When he's eventually escorted to his room and it's comfortable patch of floor, he's barely able to stand and relying on Tokket's sturdy arm to guide him.
That night, the party sleeps and dreams. Their dreams are dark and disturbing, full of images of failure and dispair that leaves them waking frightened and cold. More than one of them is screaming in their sleep by the time that morning arrives, and Stavros seems to have chewed a hole into his leather scabbard while he slept. The party gathers in the taproom for breakfast, sees the grey and sleepless expression on the other members faces. It is decided that the dreams do not bode well, for the party or the town.
