The calm before the storm

Tallandril trotted through the trees easily, sometimes veering off to scout out the party's flank, and sometimes just to see the light filtering through the trees. The others made their way through the trees with ease, but the going was slow enough that he could keep up. At the sight of the first outlying farm, Tallandril dropped back a little ways to chat with the group. "So, where's the best place to get a horse? Running's fun for a little ways, but I'd like to be conscious for a meal at the end of the day. Speaking of food..." he says, stomach growling, "You said the Old Skull was a good place to eat Blake? Do they have mutton? I've had the strangest craving for mutton lately...." He talks, and talks, and talks.... mostly about nothing, but the conversation is pleasant enough, and helps pass the time until you find yourself riding past the Tower of Ashaba and a faint hint of mutton on the breeze makes your mouth water...

Blake, says "I'm sure you get a horse at the stables next to the Old Skull Inn. If you would like I could help you pick the best one out, I have a talent for that sort of thing." Blake looks down at his elven broad sword and gives it a pat. "If the Old Skull doesn't have mutton you can get it at Mother Tara's Feathall. I'm look'en forward to vension and ale myself."

Later...

The huge, lichen-covered, gnarled lava-melted, sheep skeleton-littered monolith, known as Old Skull, dwarfs the Inn of it's name sake. As we approach the Inn, two stable boys come from the barn. The sound of laughter, music, and the clinking of dishes come from the entrance of the inn as we dismount our horses. As two drunken men stagger out the door, the unmistakable smell of mutton and ale makes your stomach rumble.

Blake turns to the stable boys and gives very clear, and detailed instruction of how his horse is to be cared for. He says with a wink,"If you follow my instructions correctly, there's a gold piece with your name on it, and if you don't, Myst bites very hard."

Blake heads for the the front door of the inn...

Before he can reach the door though, the dwarf rushes past as fast as his legs can carry him.

"Time to eat" is all anyone can really here from the dwarf. Once inside, Belak finds a nice table in one corner of the inn. He sits down with his back towards the wall taking in the scene before him. Before long a serving "wench" comes and delivers a steaming plate of meat and a large mug of the Old Skull's finest ale. As the rest of the party enters, Belak motions for them to join him. If they take him up on the offer he will buy the first round for the party.

"This is my way of saying thanks for taking care of me back there or for at least showing some concern. It has been a long time since anyone has done that for me."

Belak takes a huge swig of ale from his mug. The ale leaves foam on his beard and it begins to run down the length of it. Using his arm he wipes it clean and lets go with a thunderous belch.

"Ah!!" is all that is heard. Myrage smiles at the burping Dwarf, then sets to his own tankard with an enthusiasm not far removed from the Dwarfs'.

Draining the mug, the ranger comments on the quality of the ale, "Ahhh, that's a keg that even a Dwarven cleric would be proud to call 'holy water' is it not Belak"

The party shares a laugh, and raising their tankards (after a pause long enough for the Dwarf and the ranger to attract the wenchs attention once more) they share a toast to the prospect of fallen evil.

Myrage, spotting the expectant gaze of Az' out of the corner of his eye, motions for the bar keep to fetch him a dish along with a bottle of his finest Thayan wine. The bar keep brings them over and hands them to the ranger, who pours a generous amount of the fine liquor into the bowl and sets it to the floor beside the dog.

Az' doesn't even pause, and finishes the wine in short order, bringing another cheerful laugh from the party, and a nod of admiration from the Dwarf.

"AND he finds Orcs?....That's a good friend you've gotten yersen there me friend."

Sitting down next to Belak, Tallandril gladly takes him up on his offer of a free ale, and orders a meal that sounds like three times what the scrawny elf could possibly eat. "Running makes me hungry," is all he says as you look at him in mild astonishment before burying his face in the mug of ale. Letting out a satisfied burp and a mumbled "Pardon me", Tallandril asks, "While we're waiting for our food, I had a question I've been mulling around in my head for awhile. What good luck did I happen to stumble across to have you guys headed this way today? I mean, without your help, I wouldn't have lasted long, and I was curious as to what such a competent group of people could be up to. There's some FABULOUS ruins around here somewhere... I'm pretty handy as a scout, but I'd get a full share, with a bonus if I save your necks a time or two..." He chatters seemingly aimlessly for a moment or two, and you feel like he could go on forever debating the charms of this ruin or that one, but his endless flow of words is interrupted by the arrival of his meal, which then consumes most of his attention. Still, in between bites he looks askance at the party for an answer.

Myrage looks to the scout, his smile obvious. "We're to be smiting evil my friend. I'm not to be guaranteeing or denying the presence of a 'reward' but if we finds it, I'm to be seeing it fair that we all take a equal amount ."

Blake, takes Belak's offer of ale, tips back on two legs of his chair and takes a mighty swig. With beer foam on his black beard he says to Tallandril, "You're stumbling upon our party wasn't just luck, it was a sign of the gods. Dwarf and Elf, side by side, battling the forces of evil." Blake holds is mug up for a toast and says,"May our gods continue to show us favor!"

When the question of what our party is going to do, Blake gets a serious look on his face, looks around for any ease-droppers and says, "There is a unnatural storm of evil brewing around Mistledale." As if on cue, a thunder clap can be heard in the distance and rain begins to drop on the roof of the inn. "A massive horde of goblin-kind backed by evil wizards and creatures not of this world have constructed a red tower as a monument to evil. They have already attacked Mistaledale and threaten the entire Dale lands. When I split up from the group for awhile, I contacted a Druid friend of mine. She gave me a stone that can sense when these unnatural creatures are near. If its treasure you be seek'en, I'm sure these unholy creatures have a massed a'plent. But after this journey is over, I think you will be glad to return with your soul!"

Blake devours his mutton a potatoes and says "Food tastes so much better when you come in of the road don't ya think?"

"We will all be needing rooms for the night. Belak would you like to split the cost of a room with me?"

Once the meal is done, the conversation has stopped and we have a room for the night, Blake throws on his cloak, scrunches his hat on his head and heads out into the rain. As he leaves you can hear him mumble something about it's important that the horses get a good night sleep. As Blake opens the door, he is silhouetted be a lightning flash and he disappears into the midnight storm...

Ever since the small battle and even while the others enjoy themselves, Rondad seems lost in thought. He does not take part in the revelry with the rest of the party but instead sits quietly and surveys the room. He accepts Belak's offer of a drink with a thank you and orders a single ale.

Once finished with his ale, Rondad orders a glass of wine and quietly sips the contents and listens to the others. He suddenly rises from his chair and walks to a man in reddish brown robes. The short, otherwise non-descript man stands out from the rest of the crowd only because he does not wear the trappings of a farmer.

Another stranger, another friend