Scourge didn't move from his position leaning agiainst the far wall away form where Marie had placed herself. He heard her tale and watched her fall to her knees as an accent to her sincerity.

He really made no motion as Vilyamar posed his inquiry, as far as he was concerned it mattered not if this Wolf joined their little crusade. To him she was another sword arm, and another strain on his healing. he moved from the wall, and as eyes turned to the large shadowed figure one might have thought he would speak; and be sadly disappointed as he merely opened the door to the hall and Orion flew in to perch atop his right shoulder as he closed the door once more.

"The gent's downstairs indeed have a secret, but none worse than perhaps keeping one's dealings from a wife" Orion said towards Elandor. His beady eyes looked upon Marie and the rest before ruffling his feathers and continuing. "The girl can come, so long as she doesn't hinder us, or like a lame cub, she must be cut from the pack to fend for herself. She should know this well." Orion let the other's think, though he was ready to hit the hay and call it a night, the next day would prove long he figured, and they planned on putting many miles between them and Elderast. It was best to settle this quickly.

Elandor entered the room and seated himself on the edge of the bed. Although his nerves screamed for action he managed to remain in place. His muscles tickled in a sensation that urged him to get up and run down to follow the two villains. Although he trusted Orion would do a good job at screening the men he didn’t like the fact that he wasn’t downstairs to act directly, should something happen.

While the others entered the kender tried to look as stern as possible. He figured the occasion demanded he did. He took his hoopak in his hand and played with the string, scanning the others. His expression was a very serious one, his face unlike anything they had ever seen on him.
The woman called Marie told here tale, lots of vague parts remaining uncleared. Elandor didn’t bother asking. He knew that once he opened his mouth he wouldn’t be able to stop showering her with questions. Once during her tale he got up and walked several steps towards the door. To others it could be interpreted as if he had no interest in the woman, or her joining the party. He shook his head to himself, knowing that he couldn’t possibly go downstairs now, and turned around to get back to his place on the bed.

When the woman was done Orion came in the room and reported to the kender the fact that the two guys downstairs were up to no criminal activity at all (Kicks his evil DM for letting him believe some cool encounter was coming up). Elandor’s nerves calmed instantly. In fact… he felt rather sad. He had hoped this city would prove interesting. Though it had brought them a new member on their group, hearing the reactions of the others, his attention had been fully on the two men in the dark booth.

The kender shook his head again, trying to rid himself of the annoyed feeling he had and focus on this newcomer. He regarded the woman with a curious but cool stare.

“I say she can come. I’ve got some questions though. For one: WHO told you where to find us?”

He turned to his companions and shot another question at them as well.

“How do you all think that we will leave this city? I suggest we take an airship. I’ve always wanted to go on one of those.”
His enthusiastic anxiety returned slowly and his talking became faster and more happy again.
“Teros told us that he took an airship from Quasal… if that’s where we’re going, then there has to be a way to get there through the air.”

"Master Johan, have you noticed the floor here?" Paula asks curiously as her eyes alight upon the unusual woodwork.. "I think someone tried a bit of remodeling here.. Like they were trying to hide something.. It is, afterall, a tad odd to only resurface one area of the room, don't you think?" She said, almost half to Johan and half to herself..

"Here, help me move this cabinet, and we'll see if there's anything behind it, or, at the very least, have a closer look at the floor." Paula asks, standing up to move the cabinet aside.

((Step 2 of the investigation! Paula's going to check the wall behind the cabinet, knocking on it to listen for odd hallow noises, and then the floor, maybe even seeing if she can pull those odd boards up..))

Teros sat with his back leaning against the bed, legs out in front of him as he watched the woman. She was nervous, and he couldn't blame her for that. He gave her an encouraging smile and then settled down to listen. He found her story interesting, but it did have a few holes although she seemd very passionate about her work as a Ranger. She also seemed friendly enough.

The first thing that he heard was from the half-elf, and he nodded at that question, it had its merit. But it surprised him when he said he accepted her without her answering the question. He had always seemed to a cautious man, but perhaps this quest was chaning him. It was changing them all. Nevertheless he heard the same question from the Kender and nodded his head in agreement when he said it. Was it possible that the elves were tracking their movements with magic? Of course it was, and that had to be it. But this was something to think on later as he prayed to his goddess.

"Although, as of yet, you prove to be on a different track of fate then us, it seems that your reason for joining us is no less dear to you than our reasons. Therfore I see no reason to not accept you into our group. I believe that means you are in. However I would agree that it would be best if you answered the question that has been stated twice before."

He said with another small smile as the kender turned and questioned them on how they were to leave the city. Airship, ah it had been a few years since he had rode on one of those. And he was ready to do it again. However when he said Quasal was where he had gotten the airship he looke down and shook his head.

"No, I recieved transport at El Jalnine, the capital. And yes, Airship would be the most efficent way to our destination."

He didn't know if they would let him go visit Quasal, he doubted they would say no since it was only 10 miles away anyways. Not a big deter in their journies, and perhaps that small break would do them all good in the end.

Damien acknowledged that thanks he received from his companions with only a nod of his head, or perhaps a slight lifting of the corners of his mouth. He had done as he promised, and thus, his task was complete. He owed them little more than he had done. It was not them that held his interest. At the moment, it was the maid he had seen so many similarities of Elena in that captured his fascination. However, he could hardly find the words to say what he meant to.

Returning to the table, he motioned politely that she sit again, and took a seat for himself. This time, he tried desperately to straighten out his words before attempting to speak to her. It took a moment, but he finally found what he wanted.

“I ask that you forgive me for our previous talk,” He began, trying to sort out his words so they did not jumble together or cause his tongue to catch. “Its just that... I once left somebody...who was important to me. You bear a remarkable similarity to her... It brings back memories that I had suppressed for so long,”

Well, you sound like a fool, but at least an honest fool, He thought bitterly as he averted his eyes from the young woman, trying to avoid letting his unease show through his gaze.

(OOC: As you stated, Valimar, you and I will continue this, and as such, I’ll leave it where it is right now)

August 11th/Tuesday Night
Northern Thollin
Old Home/Outskirts of Eldarast/Thollin's Capital

At Paula’s most interesting inquiry, Johan knelt beside her and squinted at the floor.

”Yes this is most interesting.”

He mumbled. Standing back up and setting his lantern on the small counter near the bed, he returned beside her and, together they were able to slide the cabinet to the side. It was heavier than it looked, but they succeeded. Grabbing the lantern once more, Johan and Paula both knelt, staring at the floorboards, previously concealed by the cabinet. The cabinet was at best, 4 feet wide, and perfectly concealed the strange, sanded four by four section of floor.

“I think I know what it is from.”

Mumbled Johan, running a finger across the smooth, palled surface of the sanded floor.

“This must be where she died…They sanded the stained floor, and placed the cabinet over it.”

Paula had been testing the wall, and had come to the conclusion that it bore no unseen mysteries. Turning her eyes to the floor, a strange glint of light caught her eye. Peering closer, she realized that something had fallen between the floorboards, and now reflected the firelight of Johan’s lantern.

At her instruction, the tenant helped her pry apart the boards, using the handle of her mace as a lever. The boards held firmly, but could not resist the strength of two, and with a sudden, sharp crack, they spread, casting dust and chips of wood into the air. Waving the dust cloud out of her face, Paula reached forward, and picked up the item she had seen, and held it in the lantern light. It was a ring! Leaning closer, Johan also stared at it.

It’s golden surface was smooth, flawless, and rounded. It bore no features whatsoever. It was a wedding ring. Before Paula could comment, she realized the room had become very cold. Their breath hung in the air in vaporous clouds, and goosebumps had risen on her smooth skin.

With a start, Johan was on his feet.

“It gets cold when the ghost is nearby!”

His face had flushed of color, and his lips were drawn tight.

“Is the ring enough to get rid of them, madam? Is it enough to keep the three ghosts linked to this house? Destroy it!”

He was obviously dreading another encounter with the ghost, and held the lantern aloft, peering at the doorway shakily.

************************

August 11th/Tuesday Night
Northern Thollin
Jester's Hour/Eldarast/Thollin Capital

The maid had stood beside the table they had sat at, while Damien won his party their rooms. She had smiled through the lively singing and routy crowd. Now that his show had ended, and the patrons had returned to their drinking, Damien returned to her, nervously motioning that she sit. She did so, but her brilliant green eyes remained fixed on his taut, pale face.
“I ask that you forgive me for our previous talk,” He began, trying to sort out his words so they did not jumble together or cause his tongue to catch. “Its just that... I once left somebody...who was important to me. You bear a remarkable similarity to her... It brings back memories that I had suppressed for so long,”

As he said this, she raised a slender, eyebrow. Her loose, onyx curls had fallen around her smooth cheeks. Her gaze was weary, but she was still captivating. Damien was uncertain if his mentioning her “reminding” him of another was wise. When she spoke, her voice was soft, melodious, but very shy.

“And you remind me of noone I have ever seen before.”

She said simply. Her slender fingers toyed with a silver ring she wore on her right hand. It seemed just an ordinary ring, to Damien.

“You sign the songs of a man who has seen much. Far more than I will ever see. Yet you are sad. Please tell me. Why did you leave this woman I remind you so much of?”

(Damien. When you read this, If I’m not online, just respond. I figure we don’t know when we’ll both be on, and there is no sense in waiting. Let us get as much of this done as we can. The post obviously needn’t be long. It’s a convo post.)

"Yes, undead give off negative energy, which is loosely related to the cold.." Paula said to answer Johan as she quickly looked over the ring.. "But I doubt this is enough to drive her off.. A simple marriage band? No, more likely it's the children that are the key.." Paula said as she stood up..

"Do not worry about the ghost, Master Johan! I can drive it off if it attacks, but I can't get rid of it permanently until we figure out what keeps it here in the living, and I just know it's the children. Send them on, then break the ring, and THEN I believe I can get rid of the mother through less subtle measures. So for now, take me to where the children most often appear. I suspect that's where they died.." Paula said, readying her holy symbol in case mother decided to make her presence known.

“I’ve been all over the world, madam,” Damien spoke in a low tone, somewhat stunned by the question. He had not expected this to be asked, though perhaps he should have...

Looking up from the ring that the maid wore on her finger, the bard shifted his shoulders beneath the cloak, lifting himself slightly to move his sword away from the uncomfortable position against his leg. The hilt was digging into his thigh. “It...was for her good. You have to understand that... Slowly, her cheer and spirit were being sapped away by my more...bleak...outlook on things.”

What am I doing? She isn’t Elena. Elena is gone! She just seems so alike...

“She loved me, and I, her. She was getting dragged down, though, and I didn’t want to have to watch that happen. She didn’t deserve to be drained of her happiness, simply by being around me.” Looking down and away, Damien shut his eyes. “It was for the greater good...for her good...”

She kneeled there with her palms flat against the floor until they were done with their comments and then sat against the corner, drawing her knees up against her chest. She looks to the man in green with a twinkle in her eye. "Was that really what you meant by that?" She whispers it across the room so quiet that only one with abnormally strong ears, such as a half elf's, could hear it.

"I did as I was told. The elves told me that the dark god was raising and to find this party at this inn." She sighs and meets all of there eyes in turn. "I have often thought that I would be too late, but as I can now see, I am not too late. Or so I hope." With this she rests her chin on her knees as today’s events caught up with her. -I have been traveling for who knows how long and then my already stressed nerves have to go through these peoples interrogation. They have every right to ask these question though I suppose.-

She sighs and hopes that the rest of the questions can wait until morning. -I wonder what they would think if I passed out right here from exhaustion?...- She didn’t really want to find out any time soon and pinched her arm discreetly to wake herself up. -Wake up girl! You can sleep when their questions have been answered...-

August 11th/Tuesday Night
Northern Thollin
Old Home/Outskirts of Eldarast/Thollin's Capital

Johan had huddled behind Paula as she casually explained her speculations. The lantern he held quivered in his nervousness. The shadows danced with the light, as if mocking his fears. Paula could see her breath, lingering lazily in the still air of the room. Realizing that her guide would not move forward until she did, the Cleric sighed and started towards the door.

Perhaps on cue, as she took her first steps, she heard a voice in the stairwell. At first she thought that perhaps Belldonna, too shaken in her carriage sanctuary had come searching for them, for the voice was that of a woman. She immediately brushed that thought aside, when she felt Johan tense up, catching his breath at her side. It must be the mother.

The voice had called something, but she hadn't caught it. Johan had frozen where he was, and Paula realized that she too had halted, just inside the bedroom door. Tilting her head slightly, her smooth lips drew tight in concentration, as she listened to the silence that now seemed to intrude. Sobs…Softly at first, like haunting whispers, she could just make them out. The stairwell creaked under unseen feet, and, it seemed from the top of the stairwell, the voice of a woman, hollow, moaned allowed in a long dead lament.

Behind her, Johan had hushed, backed against the bed. His lantern light stained the hallway wall with the dim, squared shape of the doorway. Paula's shadow leaned against the wall, waiting on her to act.

****************************

August 11th/Tuesday Night
Northern Thollin
Jester's Hour/Eldarast/Thollin Capital

As Damien tried to explain his reasons for leaving his Elena behind, the maid, who's name his still did not know, sat erect, seemingly absorbing every word. Her pale, green eyes were yet to stray from his palled face, and in their pools reflected understanding. It was obvious his heart had been locked long ago, and though he tried now to reveal but a little of what he held within it, the bonds were rusted. He was having a difficult time, yet the attention of the woman before him was so emollient, that he was able to find the courage to continue.

When at last, it seemed he had explained his position well enough for her, or seemed too close to emotions grip, She reached out, and laid a hand on his. Her touch was soft, and soothing. Two such sensations he had not experienced in a very long time.

"I will not ask you why you found yourself so sorrowful, when love was at your door…That is your business, my lord. But your sacrifice seemed just…."

The woman paused, nibbling her lip. Her large eyes seemed to glimmer in sorrow for a moment, before he added.

"I believe that true love is rare indeed…"

Her soft voice trailed off, and her face lowered, focusing on her outstretched forarm.

((Hey all, yup, I'm posting for Valimar, who, for some unknown reason, is banned. Sooo, here's his post for yall. Good thing he has my AIM! ^^))

Paula steeled herself for whatever may come, drawing herself up to her full height and gripping her holy symbol in hand, which she held up in front of her as she walked into the hallway to confront whatever may be on the stairwell.. In the back of her mind she quietly wished she'd prepared the proper prayer to make her holy symbol shed light..

She paused a moment to look back at Johan.. "I would suggest that the moment you get a chance, head back outside and to your wife.. Things could get ugly here.." She said, and then moved forward, mace and symbol in hand, muttering a soft prayer as she went.. A shimmering, thin layer of light surrounded Paula's body as she moved forward..

(( Shield of Faith ))

Vilyamar listened to the others questions, but his legs ached from the lack of movement and his soul urged him to act. Talk was all good, but he knew how little work it would get done in the end.

"Your answers are very...short, Miss Tanner," Vilyamar said. "But I do not care at this time. Such knowledge is not commonplace. Now, I suggest we leave her to get her rest. The girl is dead on her feet. We all, too should get some rest. We're all well travelled, and know the dangers of not getting enough rest. I need hear no more, my vote stands that she may accompany us if she wishes. One or two more hands to fight will not hinder us."

With that, the monk turned and opened the door. He did not pause, nor look back, he simply left. Closing the door behind him, he made his way back down the hall and stairs, standing at the foot of the stairs to peer out over the crowd until he found the man he was looking for. It was a touching moment, but such things were rarely felt by the monk since he began training. Human emotions bubbled up once and a while within him, but he suppressed them as quickly as the bard had once seemed wont to do. And it was to that bard now that the monk was walking.

His hood still up, Vilyamar stood beside the two, though only the girl looked up at him. He bowed his head slightly to her and turned to Damien.

"The girl, Marie Tanner, is a ranger of nearby. My mother's kin found her, and told her of our mission. She shall accompany us, and the others are turning in for now. I suggest you, too, get at least some rest. You are still, after all, human."

Vilyamar's voice was not harsh, nor demanding. It simply was. He did not even wait for the bard's acknowledgement, should any have come. He turned and walked briskly back to the stairs, which he took up again two at a step and entered one of the rooms. He removed his cloak only once the door was closed and secured, and after about a half hour's worth of meditation, laid his own head down for some rest.

August 11th/Tuesday Night
Northern Thollin
Old Home/Outskirts of Eldarast/Thollin's Capital

After a moment of gathering her thoughts, the cleric closed her eyes, muttering a prayer to her goddess. After only a couple seconds, a strange, shimmering mist seemed to shroud itself around her. Johan watched in awe, until she was finished. Still the strange, glimmering sheen of air surrounded her.

Cautiously, Paula crept to the doorway, and poked her head into the hall. The stairwell was black, shrouded in shadow. Gripping Lavuria’s medallion, she stepped towards the stairwell. Johan, mastering his fears, crept in her shadow. A sudden wail slid from the stairs, perhaps not 20 feet away. The voice was filled with a painful sorrow that no living vocal cords could emanate. Creeping closer to the stairwell, and peering down their length, Paula was little surprised, when, in the lurid light of Johan’s lantern, a single figure loomed darkly, not 8 steps from her.

Paula’s eyes widened. It was a woman, perhaps in her mid thirties. She may have been beautiful once, but her skin was pale, almost gray, and her eyes were sunken and feverish with madness. Her dark hair hung limply over her breasts, and she was cloaked in a long white sleeping gown. Her bony cheeks shone with tears. She did not move, and for a long moment, Paula wondered if she saw her; for her eyes did stare up the well, directly at her. Yet the cleric soon realized that the ghost (For ghost she was. Despite her very human appearance, the cold of the air, and the gray of her skin gave her away) was simply lost in a reverie of the dead.

Gripping her medallion, the cleric thrust it high over her head. Instantly, it seemed to blossom with white flame, filling both the stairwell and the hallway behind her with a brilliant, palled light. The Medallion always did this when shunning the undead. It was nothing Paula controlled. It was blessed by her goddess. All she needed to do was turn her faith to Lavuria, and hold the medallion in the air, facing the undead. The rest it would do on it’s own.

Though she had seemed oblivious to the two standing atop the stairwell; when the medallion was held high, and it’s light shed upon her face, the ghost’s face twisted in terror. Throwing her arms up to shield her eyes, she screeched a terrible, dry scream, before turning and fleeing down the stairs and out of sight in the direction of the house entrance.

The light of her medallion subsided, along with the chill in the air. In the lantern light, Johan’s mouth was agape in wonder. After a moment he was able to recollect, and followed her carefully down the stairs. From here, Paula could see the entirety of the downstairs, including the front door, which Johan had left open, and the closed door in the far wall, near it. Leading her right, along the wall and past one of the two fireplaces, Johan took her to the corner. It was just a bare corner, no carpet of furniture covered it. Nor did the wooden planks that floored it look out of the ordinary.

“This is where the children are…when they are dying.”

*********************

August 11th/Tuesday Night
Northern Thollin
Jester's Hour/ Eldarast/Thollin's Capital

It was not until after she had finished her story, and had answered the questions of the others, that Marie had realized just how tired she was. Though she tried to hide it, her fatigue was evident, and enough of an excuse for the others relinquish their inquisition, and call it a night.

After expressing his opinion on the matter, Vilyamar turned and headed downstairs, to inform Damien of what had taken place, before returning upstairs to claim his room.

Teros held three keys. They stood now in Scourges room. The large, cloaked figure had already paid for it, and bore the key himself. Damien had won his own room, and was still downstairs. That left three keys to go between himself, Vilyamar, Derrak, Mahuo, Elandor, and Marie. Standing in the hall just outside Scourges room, the dark skinned man held the keys in one outstretched hand, stroking his tan face, and linking each key to it’s appropriate room. All three were directly opposite of Scourges, and adjacent to one another and, as the tender had said, each room bedded two. The only question was, who would share with who?

His questions were easily answered. Strolling out of Scourges room and plucking a key from his hand was Mahuo. The satyr ran one hand through her long, auburn hair and smiled drunkenly at him. She had taken Marie by the hand.

“Us girls will share. No peeking!”

She slurred slightly. Turning around and finding her room, she fumbles with the key a while, before unlocking the door for herself and Marie.

Laying one massive hand on his padded shoulder, Derrak tried to appear more awake than he was. In reality he was exhausted, which accounted for his rather unusual somberness at the inn.

“Well pal. Waddya say we room tagether. I’ve still got some dwarven ale if ye be wanting some. If not, that’s fine…Ima be sleeping in no time.”

At that moment, Vilyamar sprung up the final two steps of the stairwell, and plucked one of the final two keys from Teros’ hand. Starting towards his own room, the monk thought secondly about it, but paused, waiting to see how Elandor would room, before taking to his quarters. As it was, the kender seemed more interested in rooming with Scourge, and his wonderful bird.

(OK…Ya…It’s rushed and for good reason. Im at my friends WITHOUT a disc, so I retyped this real quick to try and at least keep things moving. I went ahead and posted who will be rooming with who…to save time. I hope I chose well…I picked who I thought you would all room with anyways. Marie and Mahuo, Scourge and Elandor, Derrak and Teros, Vilyamar to his own, and Damien to his own…though the bard is still downstairs. Please post a final…bed post, just to verify that There is no problem with my selections, and to sum the night up in your own perspective.)

Vilyamar nods slightly at the decisions as they quickly split into their rooms, Mahou slurring slightly, garnering a small shake of the half-elf's head, still beneath his hood.

"Then let us all gain a good rest. We all seem dead on our feet. Sleep well and wake as they say in some lands..." He said with a small bow as he backed out and into the hall. The monk moved purposefully and lightly to his own room, opening the door quickly and stepping in and around it before closing it lightly. He checks to make sure the room is secure and then removes his cloak and shirt, settling into a meditative trance on one of the beds for about an hour before falling asleep.

Sleep came easily, for he was physically exhausted from the journey. Determination was all that kept him from showing it too much, but he had had lapses earlier, and now it was time for rest. After meditation, sleep was not far off, and he reached a long and deep slumber quickly.

But as the first rays pierced the horizon, Vilyamar awoke, his soul and body as in tune with the pattern of the sun here as it was anywhere else he had travelled. He spent this time preparing for the day, taking a quarter of an hour in mediation, and the rest of the hour in practicing stationary forms (ones that one foot remains in the centre of a circle and never leaves that spot. There won't be a whole lot of room).

He exited his room with all his belongings, which were not much. Moving downstairs, he gave his key back to the innkeeper. The rooms were won on merit of last nights performance, and the group was moving on this day. He proceeded to order a simple meal to break his fast, no wine, only water. He kept his hood up and his cloak on the whole time since before leaving his rooms, speaking as little as possible to humans who did not know him. He sat at a table that had an easy view of the stairs and awaited the others waking.

“I believe that true love is rare indeed...”

That statement felt as though a spearhead lanced him through, rending his innards upon vile barbs. Why was I so troubled? There was always something wrong with me, but I couldn’t ever determine what. A poison in my soul, am I doomed to never be happy?

Damien’s mouth began to taste of bile, and his breath hurt his lungs. Her touch even felt like that of Elena’s! Shutting his eyes, the bard turned his head away slightly and tried not to let his discomfort show. He pulled his hands back, beneath the folds of his cloak, where he clutched at the dark material in a tight-knuckled grip.

“I... You must forgive me...” He began, trying very hard to fully form the words in his mouth. “I must rejoin my companions... We leave here in the morning. For the south.” Reaching out, he gently placed his hands over her’s. Giving a tight squeeze, he continued. “One day, I will return, and I will free you from your bonds here. You will see the world,” Dropping his voice to a bare whisper that he himself could hardly hear, he finished. “Provided it see’s another day...”

(OOC: I realize that his kind of just drops off, but I don’t want to hold things back anymore. I’ve been the worst for this, but I’m struggling to keep up with everything. Continue as you need to, and Damien will go to bed after he finishes his conversation with the maid.

Sorry, once again.)