This will have to go I suppose," Moraglin declares slearly. Not quite what I am used to but...." the rest she leaves unsaid. Dismounting her steed she speaks an arcane words and the horse disappears. in it place is a small horse statue of black obsidian intricately carved and details. Moraglin scoops it up and places it in a ouch on her belt, giving it a pat.

Actually she was looking forward to this next encounter. It had been years since she had been out traveling the lands. She had been much to tied up with her studies in religion and in magic and vice versa.

She stretched a little as she stood there waiting for the others to deal with the stable lad according to their wishes. Actually she was not sure she could walk forward yet. Even as smooth a mode of transportation as the obsidian mount was she could not recommend hours in the saddle being more familiar with the comfort or of her favorite stuffed chair by the fire. It was only sometime that afternoon that she had cast levitate on her self enough to take the pressure off her more sensitive part of her anatomy. She longed for a nice warm bath to soothe those more tender parts of her body

Glancing surreptitiously at the others she notices none of them seem to be mush affected by the long hours in the saddle, Moraglin cast cure minor to remove some of the tenderness in her derriere. Then she straightened her robes and smoothed down her hair casting the cantrip Clean and Fresh to remove the dust of the trail.

"How is everyone doing? I must say I feel refreshed and ready for anything," Moraglin spoke truthfully. She cast a quick glance around the group and it lingered just a bit longer on Septimus before coming to rest on Zara. “You say we were given traveling expenses? That is good to know.”

Moraglins rodes of midnight black had no rival except for her lusterious raven locks. Her pale skin only accented their dark intensity. Cheery red lips pouted a bit but is seem to be her natural for her even if one where not exactly sure what she was smiling about. Her rich robes were embroidered in designs reds, red violet and purples and picked up the colors in the brocade lining them. With a quick swish of her robes around her Moraglin made her entrance into the Inn. Once inside she swept her arms wide and let the robe flow out from her body. The intensity of the reds and re-violets set off her fine gown of unrelieved black it clung closely to her breast and hips and then flaired out wide which was useful for riding and making entrances. It was showmanship but as natural to her as breathing.

"Innkeeper, your finest rooms for myself and my companions, baths for all and you finest meal," Moraglin calls out. After all she, ah they, had access to traveling funds--why not have the best.

Exhausted, Septimus dismounted and staggered over to the rest of his group. His skin was deathly pale with his weariness, and his eyes were dull. He attempted a faint smile as Moraglin offered to pay for their rooms. Even though he had instinctively distrusted the woman, she seemed friendly enough, at least now. With a sort of half-humbled pride, he started to protest her payment for him and then was subdued. “Kind of you”, Septimus murmured absentmindedly, his thoughts far-away in the shadow world where he so often dwelled.

“Don’t I know you, mate”, the innkeeper asked of him, a jolly man with a rubicund complexion. Septimus gazed with him patiently, a ghost of something that might have been longing flitting across his features.

“I doubt it”, he whispered softly, his tone emotional and crystalline like a violin. “Few do”. He turned to his traveling companions, rejoicing and despairing of his disguise. “I hope I do not seem rude”, he muttered,” but if I may, I would like to retire to my room. I shall meet you all for supper later”. He indeed looked sickly in the sallow light of the lanterns. “I am feeling quite ill”.

The innkeeper handed him the key to his room. With a contemptuous glance to Moraglin, he slipped off his baldric with its heavy cutlass and handed her his dagger. “Will you hold these for me”, he inquired darkly. A sarcastic note flavored his words.

“In case I…ah…get any ideas?”

Without another word, anger blossoming in his heart, he tramped up the stairs and was gone.

**********

He entered his lonely room on the upper floor, struck by its lavish bleakness. He placed his belongings on the floor, and retired to the bath. Allowing the hot water to run for a few moments, he stripped and climbed into the tub, allowing his knotted muscles to relax. This was no time to be mourning for things lost.

He was, after all, comparatively lucky.

Oko will tell the stable boy “He will need a complete brush down. Please show me the stall he is to go into” Oko will then start to lead Shadow Runner to the indicated stall. While passing by the rest of the group he notices that Moraglin was looking a bit stiff when she dismounted from her horse. He steps slow a bit when her horse shrank and became a small statue. With his nose twitching and curiosity again tugging at him, He will squash the first thing that came into his mind. He will turn his head back to where it belonged, enters into the assigned stall and proceeds to remove all of his horse’s tack.

Anyone watching will see that the horse was fond of his rider and that he will push his nose under Oko’s arm when ever the opportunity presents itself, or will nuzzle him at other times. In return His rider will pat, pet, and scratch Runner as he removes the tack. With that part done Oko will gather up the removed tack, after a final pat to his horse.

Looking up and around for the stable boy, and motions the kid over to him. When the kid comes over Oko will inform him “Shadow Runner is a very friendly fellow and likes to be petted. Do not yell at him or hit him, he may think you are attacking, and you will not like the results. In the morning if you have not been bitten or kicked, you will get an extra 3 coppers. Also I will need to know how much it will cost to have this tack completely cleaned by early tomorrow morning. And will you be able to get that done? ”

“Yes sir, I can, I have a couple of younger brothers they can help me with this job and we can get it polished too sir.”

“Good, if you and your crew do a good job then you can all share in an extra silver piece.”

With that he will enter the Inn with his saddle bags, Look around to where the rest of the group was. Noting their location He will saunter on over absently pick a spot that will give him a view of Inn’s door. He will sit down with his back towards the wall if possible, and place his bags next to him.

(Just where did that crazy pirate go now? And why are his weapons with Moraglin?) “Where is ‘Morgan’?” Oko will ask of the group.

When the serving maid comes over after noting that her group got larger he will tell her “I would like ale and what ever they are having food wise”

When Oko is informed that Morgan did not feel well and has went to his room.

Looking at Zara, Oko will ask “Is he well enough to eat some food? He has the look of someone who has not eaten or slept well for a long time.”

When the food comes he will eat well.

Moraglin freshens herself up with a few cantrips and orders a drink after Septimus left she drinks half and stands up. I will return later. "Oko, I totally agree with you I will take him something to eat in just a bit. She seems to be aware of the passing time nodding to herself a various time. "In his room" later "Undressed" even later "In the tub. Ah now is the right time." Maraglin turns to the rest of the party seated at the table, "I have something to take cae of. be back later."

She goes to the kitched and fetches a pail of hot water and a tray of food. Casting tensor's floating disk she puts the bucket on the disc and carries the tray upstairs. with a soft swish of her robes as her hips sawy as she walks

Up at Septimus's door she stops. Through the door she says. "Fresh hot water," and without waiting for a reply she enters the room where Septimus has had plenty of time to be in the tub. Just where she wants him. A anked man is more vulnerable than just being without clothes she has noted throughout the years.

"Hot water and some hot, nurishing food for you, Septimus" she announces as she walks in.

She directs the disc over towards his bath and follows with the tray in her hands. Setting the tray down on the disc she ppicks up the hot water and pours it into his bath.

Benevolence.

Kindness.

What use were they to him now? His heart had quailed at the thought of failure, to think of the land where shadows lie. Too exhausted to move, and too faint to be conscious of fear, he could only lie and remain silent. And then gradually his mind drifted away into strange vague thoughts, always with that whispered threat coming back into them, and so he lost himself in the nirvana of delirium, the blessed relief of those who are too sorely tried. Waves of waves of unparalleled nothingness circumvented his persona. Fire flowed , melding minds, natures, memories, and the sudden revelation of a world beyond comprehension.

Memories.

A female voice cut through his brooding and ominously, he felt his lips peel back from his teeth in a snarl that was disturbingly out of place on his new--found, clean-cut visage. His heart beat fiercely in the gloom, and in spite of the warmth of the water, he shivered, pushing back the supernatural chill that hung like the touch of death. The door swung open and like a whirlwind Moraglin blew into the room, completely unconcerned upon Septimus’ current state. He recoiled, completely taken off guard, mild blue eyes flashing.

“Don’t you ever knock”, he growled sullenly, suddenly aware of how vulnerable he was. He peered up at her angrily through a veil of soaked blonde hair.

To her horror, she approached further, placed down the tray of hot food and poured more hot water into his bath. Astonished by her brazenness, he sprung to his feet and climbed out of the tub, awkward in his new disguise-body and pushed her roughly away from him. He grabbed the clean robes that rested on the chair nearest to the tub and pressed them against his body. He shot her a baleful look. “What the hell do you think you are doing”, he hissed, but his apparent anger was only for display. A dark crimson blush spread over his cheekbones and he avoided eye contact.

The great Septimus Sandalwood, scourge of the seas, was deathly embarrassed.

Finally, as if deciding not to allow her to get the best of him he shot her once more glance that was intended to wilt her, and began to dress himself. Not bothering to hide his vulnerability he slipped on the robes slowly over his taunt naked form, as if taunting her. Finally fully dressed, he smiled bitterly at her.

“Congratulations”, he murmured sarcastically, “you got what you came for”.

He looked away,

“Now…leave me”.

Shock her? No. The sight of his naked body did not shock her--been there done that. Her intense gold-green eyes regarded him intently. Quell her with his stare. No, not that either. She was not the sort to be quelled by any look, not at this stage of her life. Like him she had been in control for many years unlike him for probably more years than he had been alive.

Even now she could imagine him as the absolute ruler on his ship, captain of them all. That is exactly how he reacted. But, this wasn’t his ship, and all his bravado was exactly that. Right now Moraglin seriously doubted he could move steadily across the floor without help and physically remove her from his presence. And because he couldn’t and he knew it, he wouldn’t even try to do that. But he did use his voice, commanding and authoritative. The elegant raven-haired beauty ignored that. Her catlike gaze met and held his steadily.

“I will leave, but not yet. I will tell you what you need to do. I have sped the healing of your body. But there is a cost. The healing draws form your body at an increased rate. It draws on all your resources of strength and life force and right now yours are very low. What you will do is eat and rest and in four hours you well need to eat again and rest more. If you do you may be ready to move on with us tomorrow if not you will be left behind. This quest is vitally important in many ways and not all of them are known, yet but some have been hinted at. You need to be at full strength or you will be a liability. I am not talking about your background though I know it well. I am talking about you ability to help the mission be successful. There were a few key elements of success that were revealed to me. So make up your mind. Eat, rest, get well and continue on this quest or turn around and go back to the lack of life you have here.

Moraglin moves with a fluid grace of cat-kind to where Septimus is standing, right into his space, he really had nowhere to run to. She hands him the tray of food, “Sit and eat, then rest.” She turns away and with the same graceful sway she moves over to the small fire in the hearth. She whispers a few words and the fire leaps in response growing in warmth and brightness.

The lone chair moves over to the hearth of its own accord—or seemingly of its own accord and she sits down and turns to face Septimus with the golden-green-eyed stare. “Well, what is it going to be?” Moraglin expects a response of some kind, knowing she has deliberately pushed him. Like a cat eyeing a mouse that she has caught and let go, content she can catch it again if need be. She takes out his dagger and calmly begins cleaning her nails.

He was weak.

Desperately, despairingly, weak. He knew this very well. And no amount of bravado, of intimidation, or feints and pretending would change that fact. With a sigh, he tugged off the disguise ring and felt a wave of relief as his identity returned. His muscular build became rail-thin, familiar scars and scrapes appeared. Like a creeping mist, his mild blue eyes shifted into a golden-green hue, and his sandy blonde hair turned an utter black. He was himself again. Seeing that his authoritative manner had no effect on her, he dropped his gaze. His shirt was still half-open, now baring the two dark bullet wounds and various old scars that criss-crossed his pale chest. Nimbly, he buttoned his shirt, that dark blush still creeping, unwelcome over his high cheekbones.

“I am not weak”, he murmured, outraged at the idea. But he was. He glanced at her, shocked at her bluntness, and felt a wave of fatigue wash over him. As she moved into his space, he instinctively moved back, but was unable to evade her. “I will not be left behind”, he told her firmly, meeting her gaze. To be left behind was death. To be left behind meant that he would be all too easily found, that all his trickery would mean nothing. Fear glinted in his eyes. “No matter what”, he whispered.

“I intend to stay with you”.

He took the tray of food into his hands and in spite of himself his stomach knotted in hunger. Hardly believing his good fortune and yet secretly resenting it, he moved over to one of the richly decorated chairs and sat down, relishing the warmth of the fire on his face. He was safe. He deserved rest, didn’t they all? Keeping a wary eye on her, he began to eat.

Although his stubbornness and his pride despised the food, his hungry, abused body welcomed it. When he was finished, he placed the tray neatly next to his chair. He stood to his feet shakily and faced her. “You have my answer”, he said softly. “There is no longer any need to stay”. His eyes fell upon the dagger in her hands, recognizing it as his own. He smiled then, a wistful, exhausted smile. “It is time to take your leave”.

No longer caring if she remained there or not he staggered on unsteady feet to the cot in the corner of the room. He collapsed onto it, not even bothering to peel back the covers, and was instantly asleep.

He was strangely vulnerable and beautiful then, and terribly young, his dark hair falling over his brow, outlining the pale, unlined skin of his visage. A little boy lay, buried beneath the heartlessness and bravado. He lay, curled up upon himself, his slat thin sides moving gently with each breath, responding to the tides of life.

And for the first time in three years, he did not dream.

Like a kid in a candy shop, Zara was all over the common room watching the people drinking, gambling, or just talking. After a bit she went to speak to the innkeeper and then came back and brought out her harp.

Zara began to play and the others continued with what they were doing, for now keeping her playing to simple background music. While she played with her head over her harp, she was watching inn's patrons under her eyelashes, which were long and curved upward. She too read with she say and heard, for her acute hearing allowed her to hear those in the back of the common room speaking normally, even as she played. She could have used other natural talents to perceive other interesting bits of interesting information about the patrons, but she wanted to extend her abilities, so she watched and listened and learned a few things in the process.

When it seemed that most of the patrons had finished eating, Zara began to intensify the music she played, switching to quick lively tunes interspaced with some common tunes she had picked up that might best be called drinking songs, the words were simple and the chorus was repeated after every two verses, and a few rounds it allowed for patrons to supply their own words for the song.

Some actually did, and soon the common room was full of thirsty singers. Partway through the night she did a rousing rendition of The Nearsighted Knight and the Old Whore, which had the place rocking with laughter and song, except for a tight group of three that she had noticed earlier. Throughout her performance they remained detached and very quiet, whispering while all others about spoke openly.

The local farmers headed home first, and then travelers who had to rise early headed for their rooms on the second floor. Zara finally put her harp away and picked up her feather cap with the coins that had been tossed into it by the patrons.

The Innkeeper came over to her. "Tripled my take tonight," he announced happily. "Your room and breakfast are on me. You wouldn't, perchance, be staying over? Tomorrow is a big day for me, all the people coming in for the celebration of the Duke's birthday. I was given a heads up by my brother who learned about it while traveling in from the north, he passes a number of caravans headed to the city, and the fastest of them will reach here tomorrow. You could make a deal more in coins and if you raise the bar proceeds, I will give you 10 percent."

"I doubt it," says Zara as she packed away her harp, "though it depends on how one of our traveling companions is feeling tomorrow. Your offer of money is a good reason to stay."

"Think it over," said the Innkeeper.

"I will," replied Zara.

Zara looks over to the three men with a second sight. It was as she thought; these men were here not for any legal purpose. The intensity of their dark and muddied auras was palpable.

Moraglin watches for a few moments more before casting a few more spells, Wizard hlock on the window, Alarm, Protection from Evil as well ans Magic Mouth. Satisfied returns below to the common room.

Her entrance into the common room down the steps was as "entrance" pausing as she got into the toom she surveys it quickly, but long enough to draw attention to herslef and she gradfully makes her way over to the group..

Moraglin motions the seving girl over. and makes her order strangely she orders four meals and has them all brought at once. Three were hearty stews and soups with lots of meat and thick gravy when her order is complete she motions the girl off and turns to the rest. By way of explanation Moraglin states, "He is asleep now but willneed to eat ever fours hours. I have ordered meals for him for that reason. Someone will need to take them to him in about every four hours. She didn't say it but wuite clearly she ws not offering to do it herself. I have put up wards on the room but good people can enter without problems do not open the windows or you will set off an alarm.

After seeing to the horses and taking care of her horse personally Dae proceeded to the inn's common room to find her sisters and Septimus to see how he ws doing. It had looks like earlier that he ws drawing on the last of her physical resources and they were migthy few.

SSShe saw Zana and Jason but not Septimus and MOraglinshe askes "where is Septimus, and Moraglin?"

Zara is quick to answer that he went upstairs to bed and that Moraglin follow him later with some food. Dae just nods and then order dinner.

Dae cannot help but notice the woman as she made her entrance into the common roomm neither could most of the male occupants of the room. MOraglin seems to draw their attention like moths to a flame. SHe progress theough the common room l seemed like a royal procession of one. Dae could not figure out how she did it. Moraglin did not make any flourish of garments or exaggerated moves or even any sound to draw attention. Yet eyes turned her way. Perhaps it ws her ornate black robes richly accented in red and purples. That must be it Those colors certainly wer striking.

Sae waits until Moraglin sits down and they asks, "Is everything alright?" She did not use his name or any other identifiers.

Moraglin turns her cat like eyes on Dae "Sleeping now" and then she goes on and explains what she did simply, including that he will need to eat later.

"I willtake care of that," promises Dae not wanting Zara to deal with this problem.

After playing Zara will gather up her hat of coins that the patrons had tossed in while she played. It was good Dae and the new Mage would be taking care of Septimus....ah Morgan.

Before she leaves she orders a bowl of thick beef soup and when it come she will hand it to Dae. "Put it in your bag till later." Then she take out a sachet of lavender and hands it to her too. "Put this under his pillow, it will help him sleep and her are my ward stones, put them in the corners of his room, just in case."

She looks to Moragilin with a half smile, "Someone in his family wants him dead and we need to made sure he is safe."

At the appointed hour Dae takes a meal up to Septimuses room. IT is quiet in the hallway as she walks soft footed down the corridor to his room. Saying the command word Moraglin had given her she enters the wrded room. No that she knew it except for Moraglin had mentioned it.

Dae can see him still in his bed though tossing a bit as she enters. Setting down the tray she calls his name softly tryng to wake hin gently. He mutters something but she can't quite make it out. Dae moves in closer and calls his anme again. "Septimus, Wake Up. You are supposed to eat again." IF that is not enough to rouse him she will reach out and shake his cover that he is laying under. That should rouse him to wakefullness

An intruder.

He turned over in his sleep, grumbling something intelligible. He forced himself to sit up in bed, unhappily attempting to rouse himself. His eyes opened, bleary from sleep, and drifted to Dae, unhappily. Recognising her instantly, he flopped back into bed and stubbornly covered his head with a pillow.

“Go away”, he muttered, his voice muffled from beneath the covers. “In the case that you are too thick to realize it, I don’t give a damn”. She sighed, unconcerned and shook the covers, disturbing him. With an exaggerated show of patience he removed his head from beneath the pillow and fixed her with a glance designed to wilt her. Sensing no reaction, he reached forward and took the tray from her hands. “No need to stand there. “, he murmured sarcastically.

“I’m not an infant, I can feed myself”.

He ate slowly, unsettled by her presence.

Half-way through the soup he paused, clanging his spoon back down on the tray. “I am also not an invalid”, he spat. He tilted his head slightly. “Nor am I weak. What incentive have you to treat me like this”, he inquired bitterly. “We were friends…equals…but apparently you are stronger then I”.

He placed the tray down by the side of his bed.

“Forgive my pride, but I cannot live by this rigid, degrading schedule. “

Dae understood his need for independence, his debilitation due to his condition must be dragging at this pride; this she understood.

"Okay then, here is my bag of holding and stasis." Dae put her bag down on a chair near his bed. "There are hot meals in there waiting for you when you want them. Just hold hte bag open reach in with one hand and say meal 1 and it will pop into your hand. Eat it at your own schedule I will not enter in here again unless you call, and I don't expect you will. Every four hours is what Moraglin say your body will wake you and demand to be feed. But do eat when you need to. You............." Dae's leaves the rest unfinished "Good night," she finishes and turns and leaves him to his own devices.

Dae walks outside the door and shut it after her resetting the wards. He was a proud man who was at a low ebb and she would not push him any further by doing for him. It dimished him in his own eyes and that was perhaps the cruelest thing to do to a man who was proud and down.

Morning comes all too soon for some and not to soon for others. Being young, restless and curious, Zara was up early, and out and about. There was not a nook or ctanny she had not already stuck her nose into. By the time the stable hands were stirring she ordered the horses saddled and ready for the day.

When Septimus finally stirs there is voice outside his room, "Don't forget you disguise," and then light footsteps leading away.

By the ime everyone is roused and down, Zara is sitting at a side table with a big tray of food steaming hot and ready to eat, There are hard boiled eggs, toast, bacon, links of sausage, porridge, honey, and some fruit.