Part 8: New Company

Gilly sneers as Bors pokes the wizard. It would be good to remind the wizard about his failing, and to alert the newcomers to the dangers of relying on the magickly inclined.

"Are you poorly? Is there someone in this village with the skills to tend to your friend? I could do something, but it would be the most meager magic. Perhaps, enough to keep you on your feet a while longer!"

Ora hoped that there was another present in the village to help, as her own magic might be needed later today, but if not… so be it! She would help.

Mal smiles at Bors, glad to see he hasn't lost his sense of humor

"I believe dear sir that Gilly may have just what you are looking for. Although it saddens me to loose your company I certainly understand and wish you all the blessings of Cuthbert."

Bors looks at the new woman. "Have you joined this lot, then? They are a good group...well most of them. But know that the life of an adventurer is indeed dangerous. In my short career I have seen dozens dead, and took a small part in adding to their number. As well as adding names to my sword."

With mention of his sword, Mal speaks up and lifts Bors' soul. "Truly? Have they recovered Pixiepoker? No, there was a more recent name. Slimeslicer? Bugbane? Forgive me, my head is still filled with wool."

Gilly rummages around in her pack that she had dumped down last night, before she finally lands on Bors sword. She presents it to him, in a kind of mock ceremony. She kneels, holding the sword aloft in both hands.

"Ghoulskewer." she says, with a suitably ceremonious deep voice.

She stands, silliness over.

"You’re leaving then? You can’t be stopped?"

"Ghoulskewer...a grand and fitting name." He can't help but smile at Gilly's ceremony. "Leaving? No. I thought you all were the ones leaving," he asks puzzled. "As weak as I am a newborn fawn could stop me."

"Well, we are just going out to clear the armory today. Should be back before lunch, with a nice big bag of gold…"

The last word is said in such a way as to tempt the fighter.

At Bors' barbed words, Eltrezar sets down his mug of tea with a little more force than he intended. He rises from the table, a stormcloud evident in his expression. He moves across the room to Spugnoir, working on his breathing over the short distance. Once he reaches the Seer, Eltrezar is looking somewhat more calm. Hrmph! "We will be heading into the moathouse today, but not for a long excursion. We seek to cripple the cult by raiding their weapon stores, before returning to town. What I said about the gnolls, we do still plan on handling that immediately after, barring unexpected difficulties. If you wish to join us, we'll meet back here soon. There are a small few tasks we must attend to before departing."

More snoring emanates from the suite.

Mal nudges Thurig and nods towards the stairs to the suites.

"Better rouse that ork blood we hired, seems like he's either slow or missing."

Thurig nods and heads up to the main suite across from the barkeeps apartments. He pounds heavily on the door with his granite like fist and then tries the handle.

The door opens without issue, though Thurig may be surprised to find Luban tucked in a corner, wrapped in a bedsheet and holding out a dagger. The heavily confused look in Luban's face suggests that he was very caught off guard in a deep sleep, though it begins to fade when he recognizes the dwarf from the night before. "By the gods, what is the urgency? Is the inn on fire?!" Rising, the sheer sheets tell Thurig that the man slept naked.

Thurig's unchanging expression locks on the disheveled mess of Luban in the corner.

"You were paid, time to work. Get moving."

With that, the dwarf turns and leaves without closing the door.

Some time after Thurig leaves, Luban finally makes his way downstairs. It's about the time the rest of the group is finishing their breakfasts, and he begins placing an order for some food. He makes his way to the table for some small talk.

Mal waves hello to Luban as he takes a seat at the table.

"Good marnin' to ya, easy trip today. Make it to the Moathouse, load up and back for dinner. Eat quick, don't wanna have to sleep there do ya?"

"After the night I just had, I'll have to refuse to sleep anywhere but in that room," he says with a wink. Which he immediately regrets. Winking at a dwarf, who also happens to be his employer? Think, Luban, think!

"Is there any tasks you have before we depart? Horses, gear, wills?"

"I can barely lift my legs, let alone carry bags of gold or weapons. I feel as if I haven't eaten in days. I will stay here at the inn to recover for now. I am not sure if I could return to the moathouse even if my body were completely recovered. But if you decide to move on to somewhere else, maybe I will be recovered enough to join you."

Now that was a thought, although the Halfling didn’t let it show on her face. She would wait to see how this new group carried themselves today, and then decide upon the fighter’s offer.

"We'll have to take stock of the horses, secure a cart perhaps as well. Thurig and I can see about the cart, what do you think Gilly?"