Prologue: Troubles at Red Larch.

As her company peels off one-by-one to retire, Yohna once more becomes aware of the overpowering stench of cheap booze permeating the tavern and, thoroughly reviled by it again, decides to follow suit, noting Falka examining the inert Mort as she passes by to cross the street.

Once in the finer establishment, she pays for her room and immediately heads to it, finally relieving herself of her armour and changing into her more comfortable attire to turn in for the night.

Keavan walks back to the inn with Midnight, making sure she is settled in before getting himself ready and retiring for the night.

Falka lets a low whistle escape her lips.
"Haela's teeth, that's some wale," she rumbles quietly, taking stock of the damage she had done to the poor man's forehead. "Can't rightly leave ye to the birds. Come on then." She slings the debilitated Mort effortlessly over her shoulder like a pack, and marches on toward the Swinging Swords.

Kicking the door open with as much subtlety as her heavy feet can muster, she palms eight silver coins and lays them upon the counter. "He's with me," she whispers blithely to the innkeep, then trudges up to her room. Gently, she lays him down on the bed atop the blankets. Then she goes about preparing the room for sleep: shuttering the windows, latching the door, dousing the coals and giving herself a cursory washing up with a bucket and rag. As she is about to return the rag, an idea strikes her. Softly, she lays the cold, damp cloth over the welt on Mort's face. Satisfied, she finally crawls into the other bed and nods off in moments.

"Thank you for sharing your room. I had - HAVE - no money to buy my own. Maybe someday soon I'll be able to repay you. Sleep well." Before going to sleep, Midnight goes through her evening ritual:

She sits cross-legged on the floor, and takes her folded quilt and journal out of her bag.She takes a few minutes to record the events of the day in her journal and then slips the journal back into the bag. She carefully places the bag off to the side, and places her hat on top of it. Then she goes to her sleeping place with her quilt in tow, lies down, and FLINGS the blanket down to cover her body and face up to just below her eyes. Then she promptly falls asleep and begins snoring softly.

Vardo makes his way downstairs and avails himself of the breakfast included in the price of the room. He seats himself at a table with enough seats to accommodate everyone in the group once they rouse themselves and join him.

Breezy wakes early, washing his face from a bucket of water and making himself presentable. He promptly heads to the stable, looking for Iraun. If the dour fellow is not there, he will go to the inn to grab a quick bite (bread, fruit, coffee(?) or water) before rushing back to see what chores need to be done.

Breezy walks to the table where Vardo sits, looking for anything he can quickly eat before setting off to complete his chores. "Good morning massster fey, and well met. I am sssorry I cannot ssstay, Iraun the Dour hasss much for me to do already. If I am needed, i ssshall be at the ssstable tending the beassstsss."

Grabbing the fore mentioned items, if available, Breezy will quickly wolf down his meal and wash it down with either coffee or water. Bidding the elf good day, he rushes back out the door, eager to make coin from both the inn and, if what he was told was true, hunting orcs and devils.

As for his chores, he will work one horse at a time as follows:
He will lead the horse from the stall, tying it up close by while he mucks the waste. He will place in fresh hay and feed for the animal before leading it back in and giving it a thorough brushing. When all are done, he will then work on getting the waste composted.

Vardo raises his eyebrows at the frenetic activity of the blue humanoid. He attempts to raise a protest and explain that the Genasi is perhaps wasting his talents mucking stalls, and that his talents would be better spent in aid of the group and the hunt to arrest the evil pestering the town. However, the blue man is out the door before he can formulate his argument.

And, at the end of the day, the elf isn't entirely sure it's his place to tell the strange fellow how to run his life or spend his time. But he can't help but shake his head in wonder. That's not how I'd spend my time, but who am I to tell another how to pass the minutes of their life?

Vardo goes back to picking lightly at the bread on the table and awaits the company of his peers.

Yohna awakes slightly after the Genasi, and takes a moment deciding on whether or not she should change straight into her equipment. Figuring that it's a little early, she simply remains in her finery and heads downstairs for breakfast.

"Good morning to you, Master Vardo. How fare you?" She asks, sitting at the table with him.

Keavan wakes with the dawn as always, but realising where he is and hearing Midnight's soft breathing he turns over to sleep a while longer. Eventually rising he briefly washes using the provided facilities and goes down to breakfast.

"Vardo, Yohna, good morning, are you ready for a day of bandit hunting?"

Vardo greets each of his companions in turn as they arrive at breakfast.

"I'm well, thank you Yohna," he says. "I trust you slept well."

He smirks at Keavan's lighthearted banter. "I've come to find that whenever I think I'm ready for what life is about to put in front of me, I tend, more often than not, to be proven wrong," he returns. Adding, with a shrug, "It's life's little way of attempting to teach me humility." Vardo tears off a small section of his bread and dips it in the oil in one corner of his plate. "I'll let you know when it takes."