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Seyja


She chewed and swallowed again, then shrugged slightly.

"I could use a new rope... maybe a waterskin."

<Weston>

He had spent =some= time working caravans, so he had a pretty good idea about what was important. And since the river had to be considered undrinkable, it would be important for them to have a supply of drinkable water.

"Good point Seyja", he said with a nod. "We =all= should plan to carry some water. We won't be able to use the river and we should probably be suspect of any water running into the river."

D

"I for one would rather carry too much and not need it, than not enough and..." His voice trails off.

"I could either pay for a couple of water skins or travel to help acquire what is needed. Whatever is desired." He was also not against remaining in the nice rooms and enjoying the hospitality.

<Weston>

"My guess is that we won't have to do that, just let these good folk know what we need", he said with a smile.

[Ghosted for Owain]

Nestaron

The half-elf didn't cultivate his reputation as a holy man and he often wondered how he'd gained such a moniker. One thing was obvious though, he hadn't gained it by bandying disingenuities with an ass like the Seneschal.

He had to give the Lady Morgen benefit of the doubt and hope the chief steward was a retainer of her late husband.

Despite not speaking, Nestaron was far from trenchant. He communicated with subtle facial expressions, that Heilbutt was slowly learning to understand.

Nestaron approved of the accommodation though and stood at the railing, admiring the belle view until he felt the sun prickling his forehead.

He nodded. Tindarien was right, they'd need to be prepared for the journey. It wasn't so much the length, it was arriving at the end of it in good condition, ready to fight if need be.

"This is a good place. We should rest." He said, shrugging off his outer robe and hanging it over a wicker chair.

Nestaron smiled kindly to his companions and walked to the door.

"I'll speak to the page and arrange that water."

[Ghosted for Khamsin]

Jex

Dumping his stuff, he collapsed into a chair and untied his pointy leather shoes. He whipped off his felt cap and threw it onto a table, missing it entirely. He didn't seem to care.

Although his spirits were soaring to be out of the city and in an exciting new country, it all just made a revitalising nap more needed. So with a big yawn he reached for his lute.

If the cleric wanted rest, Jex could play a quiet, restful tune.

Heilbutt

Grabbing his spear, he followed Nestaron to the door and stood to one side. While the others rested, he would learn heavily on it, eyelids drooping as he stood stoically on guard.

D

He picked out a spot where the breeze would keep him comfortable and settled. He would listen, but the initial things had been decided. Patience was key now, and not one of his strong suits.

GM

The page was sharp as a tack and eager to please, if a little awestruck at these dangerous-looking strangers from overseas.

You might not have thought of yourself as 'dangerous looking', but here in Rosencliff you were an armed party that wasn't known to the locals. You were dangerous looking.

Supplies were brought to your apartments. Two gallons of water each, mostly in bundled gourds. You could cache about a third of your load somewhere along the trail and recover it on the return hike.

Top quality rope was purchased from The Issitia, which was still anchored in the cove.

As a party, you could forage and hunt for food in the wilderness, but time was of the essence, so rations were obtained. Biscuits, hard cheese, smoked mutton, sweet brittle with more of the dried fruit and nuts in it and green-tinged tangerines. Wholly adequate for your needs.

You weren't asked to pay for any of it.

Heilbutt was standing guard at the door, but it would be almost impossible for men-at-arms to tip-toe through the stone passageways outside and surprise you. Likewise, they wouldn't be scaling the cliff or swinging into the loggia from above without a lot of noise. There might be secret doors, and of course, magic was the great upsetter, that could make those men-at-arms invisible or even fly, but apart from the haunted helm, nothing in the town had felt off so far.

Lady Morgen was a strange one, certainly something very mysterious about her, but then who were you to speak...?

[Siesta? If so, we'll move on.]

Seyja


The barbarian woman stopped eating long enough to inspect the rope and rations, grunt and nod her approval and then, after performing some limited ablutions, lay down and was soon snoring.

<Weston>

He had spent a good part of his life living on less that these 'trail rations' so he could only smile at the supposed 'hardship' of having to live off them. Satisfied with the preparations ... mostly because he wasn't really expert on much of this, he had only worked a few caravans, and they always had plenty of food and water ... he pulled his boots and lay down to rest. He had no problem falling asleep with a tummy full of good food and some nice wine.

D

He passed the time with some rest and relaxation.

[Ghosted for Khamsin]

Jex

After tinkering on the lute for a while, he leaned it against a pillar and settled down on one of the mats with plenty of cushions under him.

Relaxed, dozed off, stirring with a chuckle when he noisily broke wind, but soon asleep again.

{OOC Tindarien wants to purchase or obtain some more appropriate clothing even though much of the time he will be wearing his armour, otherwise he'll rest.]

Zoltan

Picking thru the supplies for whatever he feels he might be able to use, he puts them with his things and spends the rest of the time relaxing with some wine and fruit.

GM

Siesta.

The shadows in the loggia shifted as the afternoon wore on. The adventurers all rested, whether they relaxed and slept or not.

As the sun was setting and the western horizon was awash with strokes of fiery colour, Tindarien and Heilbutt quietly slipped out, down into town, accompanied by whoever else wanted to. The page stayed on the door to the apartments, but he gave the high elf directions to a mercer who would have what they needed, or could quickly obtain it from local artisans.

So you could procure light cotton clothing and cheche from the mercer, a gnomish woman. Even though you arrived early, before she was fully open for the evening's business, the mercer was happy to assist you and insisted that you joined her for a cup of mushroom tea. She taught you how to wear the long, gauzy scarf and tie it in different configurations, depending on your needs. Dark colours were favoured to hide the sweat stains.

The cheche was more of a Santa Coran style, and Heilbutt thought wrapping your head in cloth was a stupid idea in the heat. So he bought a wide-brimmed straw hat with a cloth strap, and a full-length cloak of thin goat's wool.

The cost was pittance.

Either way, after thanking the mercer, you took your bundles and climbed the busy streets through town, back to the keep.

Night was falling. Soon it would be supper.

[Go to HHE4: Supper.]