The Coast Way

Heavy wood doors open into an enormous tap room bathed in warm lantern light. The inn is packed with patrons dressed in varying attire both familiar and exotic. Scattered among them stand a handful of well-armored soldiers who all wear a distinctive insignia of a clenched fist wreathed in fire.

As the party crosses the inn’s threshold, one such soldier approaches, holding out a gauntleted arm. He says, "You won’t be needing weapons here. Leave them with me, and I’ll return them upon your departure."

Shelur passes the soldier all her weapons save her mallets, which are really musical instruments. "Tight crew," she says admiringly, then goes in search of a place to perform.

Stella is relieved to be in a place that at least feels safe, and that Aiwë has hope for Kregguk. Both of the musician-warrior's parents died a few times and lived to tell the tale, so...why not the orog warrior?

Stella follows Aiwë into the inn and relinquishes her bow and quiver without any protest.

"Would you...like any help?" Stella asks with a warm smile. She wasn't as musically skilled as Aiwë, but she did sing and dance. Mostly, however, she wanted to help however she could. Four hundred gold was nothing to scoff at—it was more than she had ever seen in one place.

As Ossein speaks, Gellana flinches and puts a hand to her necklace, where a gold nugget hangs. The gold begins to shine with holy light. "Back, you undead creature! You will not desecrate these holy halls!"

Ossein must succeed on a DC 14 Wisdom saving throw or Archer is instantly destroyed.

Aiwë beams at Stella. "Yes! I would love for you to play with me! Let's sing Though the Winds Blow and see how the crowd feels from there." The song is about a hunter trekking through frostbite to his family. She doesn't seem to notice any parallel as she walks to the lute player.

"Fine sir!" she murmurs quietly, loud enough to be heard by him but not to disrupt his ambience too greatly. "Can I hire your accompaniment for a performance?"

Wirrow looks nervous at the prospect of surrendering her weapons, but licks her lips and seems to think better of it. If Aiwe and Stella can do it, then she certainly can too. A faint cry and an uneasy feeling of wrongness from the temple behind her almost delays her further, but she pushes on inwards.

She does not, however, offer to help perform. No instrument here she knows how to use, and even if there was, there's no way she's performing in front of anyone. Still, from everyone else's reactions, four hundred gold must be a lot. There has to be something she can do to get some; to help fix Aiwe, even if the girl seems to be feeling better for the moment.

The cleric lady they'd talked to (Wirrow wishes it could have been some other profession) mentioned a listing of jobs that could work. Getting paid to kill things, like the job at Candlekeep? She could do that! Wirrow wanders around the lantern-lit abode, searching for anything of the kind.

If it occurs to her to ask any of the regulars where it is, she quickly squashes the thought. That was hardly independent, and she just... doesn't feel like talking to anyone she can avoid talking to right now. As usual.

"Hahahaha. See that Archie, not even the nice lady likes you. Now I know it's not just me. Everyone hates you.

But for real, I'd appreciate you not killing my legs unless you got a new pair for me. Oh, and has anyone told you how beautiful you look when smiting nthe undead?"

Rift is hesitant to enter the inn after his previous encounter in a tavern, but the thought of going with the dead bodies is even less appealing. He doesn't offer up any of his gold either, though he feels maybe a smidge guilty. It's his money though, and dead people shouldn't need money.

Wandering into the inn, he carefully steers away from anyone drinking. Instead, he checks out the board covered in notes. He visibly flinches reading about the gibberlings, his leg still a hing from where he was bitten. The one with the spiders appeals to him... until it specifies that there will be no house burning. Unfortunate, that. He happens to know that spiders burn very well.

He turns away from the board to see a few members of his crew enter. The girls appear to be getting ready to put on a show. He finds an empty table and sits down to watch, carefully keeping his bag very close to his person. Too many people get careless with their things in a place like this.

The small priestess takes a quick step backward and draws her mace threateningly. "What manner of creature are you?"

She directs her next words at Runeson, but is careful to never let Archer out of her sight. "You travel with... whatever this is? Are you not a paladin?"

Ossein gasps quite loudly. "I'll have you know young lady, I am NO creature."

Archer reluctantly raises Ossein in bow form above his head.

"I was murdered and my soul was bound to this evil vessel by a group of "good" clerics and paladins just because one of them was jealous of my relationship with a girl at the time. So you can either get off your high horse, take off your blinders, and apologize, or I'll bid your ignorant, bias, albeit beautiful butt, Good Day."

Gellana shakes her head in obvious confusion. "No servant of good would do such a thing. Are you saying you will leave? Then begone! Depart this sacred place!"

"My cousin and I are going to sing 'Though the Winds Blow.' It's from Icewind Dale, do you know it? We need you to fill out the ambiance. Just play something a little tense and windy feeling, okay?"

Without waiting for a response, Aiwë pulls a stool onto the dais and sets her handpan on her lap and her drum at her feet. As soon as Stella is settled, she begins a solo entrance.

"Can you hear the mountains gro-uoh-uoh-uoan?"

Her feet hit the drum twice, then she queues in the lutist and begins playing on her handpan.

"I am so very far from hoooooooome.
But the game is hearty, strong and hale,
here in the depths of Icewind Dale."

"I will depart, but know this. Attacking those who have done you no harm is evil. You have committed an evil here today, much like those who cursed me and you claim are also supposedly good. You need to reflect and think about who here is truely good and who's just pretending. Good day."

With those words Ossein and Archer leave.

Dieter sits up as the warmth returns to his body. The weight of his flesh is heavy on his shoulders as he adjusts to breathing again. He looks around for familiar faces and finds none except the burlap bag containing kragguk "I kept my word to you friend" dieter whispers his tongue heavy in his mouth and moves awkwardly. "where am I?" he says calmly turning to the priest who raised him. Dieter is not startled in the slightest by what has happening.

it seems existence is painful

Gellana wipes her sweaty brow. Spellcasting for an hour to raise someone from the dead takes its toll on the caster. Still, she smiles as Dieter stirs. "You are in the Temple of Wisdom at the Friendly Arm Inn. Your friend Runeson stayed by your side and helped me with anything I needed while I brought you back. Your other companions are about; most of them in the Inn's tap room, I believe."