DreamLyrics™ Play-by-Post Forums Fantasy SKT: The Storm King's Thunder 3X-Leaving Calling Horns

Arus

He doesn't need to tie up his horse---they have a bond---so Arus simply dismounts and joins Zhu at the door, assuring her with a resolute look that he has her back.

Davroar

With the others going in, he will do the typical dog shake to dry off and then return to human form to step inside.

Pavel

Pavel ties his horse to the wagon then pauses after getting under the awning to shake some of the excess water off his clothes. He then joins the group.

DM

The party, sopping wet, clothes drenched in mud, open the door to the inn and come slogging inside.

While the outside of the inn looks to be in disrepair, the large wooden double doors open into a surprisingly clean and opulent rectangular vestibule about twenty feet wide and long. Various cloaks hang on pegs along both the left wall. A long, ornate, wooden bench lines the wall on the right. Hats, gloves and scarves sit on shelves above the bench. About two dozen pairs of boots and shoes are lined up neatly under the bench. The well-polished dark herringbone parquet floor is covered by a very plush animal hide rug. There are few bare spots on the wood panel walls. Scores of small portraits of various nobles fill those empty spots.

The proper entrance to the taproom is up a small ramp straight ahead. Inviting warmth from the central hearth flows through the main taproom into the vestibule. You see a number people beyond the threshold between the vestibule and taproom. Some are being served by elegantly dressed servers at tables, an overdressed bartender is serving some folks who are sitting at the circular bar.

Before you get into that taproom, however, you need to navigate around a broom and a shovel that are sweeping dust and dirt off the floor between you and the bar.

Sindar

He looks into the tap room and then back to the entrance vestibule. His eyes fall upon the shovel and broom. "Nifty," he offers almost under his breath. Always a fan of magic put to good use, he stands there dripping for a moment watching.

Then calling beyond the doorway towards a server he asks "should we take another route and bathe before we join your lovely establishment?" It might seem like his normal sense of humor is in play, but he is completely serious. He doesn't want to upset the host of this fine establishment especially if he might want to try and earn some coin here while passing through.

Jaliera

She speaks quietly.

"Good question Sindar."

And waits for the answer. Her eyes though are on the broom and shovel. At least magic is accepted here.

Aubric

Aubric's eyes widen slightly as he takes in the unexpectedly opulent interior of the inn, a stark contrast to its weathered exterior. He nods in agreement toward Sindar's question. "Good question indeed, but it does seem like they might be prepared for a bit of dirt," he remarks with a smirk as his gaze turns to settle on the animated broom and shovel, his curiosity piqued by their autonomous movement.

He's curious whether they are animated, or being manipulated by an invisible creature, so while "navigating around" them he waves his hand slowly above them, prepared to apologize if his hand contacts someone. Or some thing.

DM

The server to whom Sindar called out looks in Sindar's direction and then turns, somewhat dispassionately, towards a very short, pudgy middle aged man that is dressed quite formally. Their eyes meet and he looks towards the group in the vestibule and makes his way towards them.

"Greetings! Greetings! Welcome to the White Hart Inn! Oh my! Oh my! You're all wet...and muddy! Take off those boots and cloaks. You can hang them there. And... just wait here a moment."

He leaves the vestibule but doesn't go far at all. He's only gone for a moment and when he returns, he has a stack of neatly folded towels and and a bag filled with an assortment of pairs of slipper. "Here. Dry yourselves off."

Sindar

He happily accepts the proffered towels and begins to do as requested.

As he is doing so, he says, "You have quite a lovely inn here. I am called Sindar and am a bard of some renown. We might find time to discuss some entertainment for your patrons if you can tell me the types of things that are enjoyed."

Zhu

Gratefully accepting the towels she hangs her cloak and removes her boots as indicated, putting on the slippers. As she does so she muses, wryly, that she had just recently given up a spell that could have cleaned her clothes with a wave of her hand in exchange for a spell to harm foes. **Oh well, better to be muddy than dead.**

Arus

He glances sideways at Bern.

"When in Amn, do as the Amnish do." he says with a smirk and slight shrug, taking a pair of slippers.

They haven't had this level of comfort since the Pearl-handled Pipe in Yartar.

Arus watches Sindar work his charm and knows the bard is best at getting the lay of the land from the locals.

At some point the paladin must take care of the Lionshield business with the harness, for now the paladin stays alert and on guard. The White Hart seems unusually prosperous for an end of the road inn, in a village that the Harpers say is cursed and scarcely visited.

Little on their adventure has upset the triton so far. But if he has to fight an ancient evil whilst wearing slippers he'll be violently angry.

<Bern>

He accepts the 'footwear' with an appreciative nod.

On the one hand, he =does= appreciate the dry footwear. But he is not a big fan of 'slippers'. He slips them on none the less, ready to go with the others to a table.

DM

The little man in the formal suit saw how Bern and Arus were glaring at the slippers.

"You don't HAVE to wear them. You can go barefoot, or if you have your own dry footwear you can don those. It just wouldn't be proper to trudge about with muddy boots."

Kriv

The Dragonborn noble swiftly shucked his footwear.

"A little decorum at the request of one's host is no hardship. To be guests beneath this roof is to respect the rights and customs of our host."

Pavel

After the fight and the gear retrieval, Pavel knew he was fairly muddy. He gratefully took the towels and aftewr removing his cloak and boots was relieved to dry off and put on the slippers.

Aubric

The cleric's hand wave over the animated cleaning implements doesn't seem to encounter any creatures, so he assumes they're enchanted somehow and thinks not much more of it.

He does not seem overly concerned about how he's dressed, and happily exchanges muddy boots for clean footwear. The faster he's resting at a table with a glass of something, the better.

Jaliera

She is happy to comply with the request, accepting both towel and slippers, making good use of both.

[OOC Are they a bit big for her?]

<Bern>

He had mixed emotions, but ... in the end, he went with the flow and removed his boots and accepted slippers with a grateful nod. They =were= more comfortable than the wet boots.

Davroar

He has never been in a place where you get new shoes, as he takes in the rich ambience of the inn with a surprised look on his face. Given the dreary outward appearance, he wonders if this is some grand illusion at first, yet when he grabs a pair of slippers and a clean towel he dismisses that notion. Hanging his wet gear and pack on a empty peg and knocking of his muddy boots, he will step further inside patting his empty stomach while looking for an empty table where they can all sit.

DM
There are slippers for all sizes and shapes, both large and small, for human and non-humans. As the visitors hang their outerwear, dry off and put on their slippers (or not), the polite little man stands near the threshold separating the vestibule for the inner taproom, with his back to the party, offering various non-verbal hand signals and directives to the servers.

He turns and waits for everyone to be ready before he says with an inviting smile, "Come, come. We have a nice table for you all near the fire. It'll help warm you!"

And with that he moves into the taproom and heads towards the center of the room around the back. There, a table, topped with a white tablecloth, set with fine looking plates, crystal goblets and utensils rolled up and wrapped in cloth napkins which are secured by rings carved of oak.

"Please, please. Have a seat," he begins. As the visitors move towards their chairs he places the palm of his hand on his forehead and looks skyward. "Oh my. You must've arrived by horse or wagon in the rain! The stable is around the back. We lock it tightly during the night but I'll have my stableboy open it for you."

He waves towards one of the servers and then calls out in a polite and tempered voice "Meesh".

The server, an elven woman, nods and walks out the back of the taproom in response.

"So. My name is Avgar Filroy and I am at your service. I'll send a server over to take your orders. Will you all be staying with us this night?"

Sindar

"Well, met Avgar," he nods, feeling the soft slippers on his feet. Looking at his companions to confirm. "Yes, we would like to stay in your lovely inn for the night. We also would like a warm meal and some good drink to wash it down with."

Aubric

The cleric dons the slippers and doffs his wet cloak, following the group to the table and enjoying the warmth of the fire. Finally convinced there is little threat here and this inn might give the party a chance to rest, he decides those who are wounded shouldn't be spilling blood on the white tablecloth, and quietly inquires yet again if anyone wants some magical healing.

Jaliera

This is a bit 'posh' for her. She is a simple girl at heart and is not sure her manners are up to scratch for such an establishment. However, after what they have just been through, she is determined to partake. A good meal and a good night's rest are definitely needed. Mentally she shrugs. She can always copy the others.

DM

"Excellent, excellent. There are quite a few of you. You'll need at least four bedrooms. I'll take care of you. Don't you worry. Your rooms will be over there," he says pointing to a vestibule to the left of the entrance you can in through.

Avgar Filroy steps away and the elven server returns. "Bring your mounts and carts around back before you do anything else," she says. "You don't want to leave them outside too long." And without an extra word she steps away.

Looking about you can tell that this establishment was once very posh, very upscale. Now, however, it shows signs of age and some disrepair. And as you look at the patrons, they look mostly like locals than visitors from elsewhere.

Sindar

He stops putting on the slippers. "I can help get the horses into cover." He hadn't got all that dry, and frankly the animals needed care.