As all of you speak among yourself, the square gets more and more quiet as the others go to get supplies, heading towards one of the only inn's in town. A rather worn down looking place called the Clumy Sag.

As Crowe addresses his question to the rest of the party, one of the Templars from earlier, a man of nondescript height and build comes back. He shouts out to your group.

"Ay! Are you guys gonna be waiting all day over there? Or are you gonna be be useful and do the damn job we're payin you to do!".

((Assuming you guys head to the inn. Feel free to talk among yourself during the walk))

You follow the templar further into the small town, heading towards the inn. The city is rather sparse, with no one really up at this point and the sun's sweltering heat is dominant.

The buildings are rather old and decrepit looking, the weather assualting the walls which still stand tall.

As you approach the tavern, you can see the title of the tavern, letters worn and faded away. It says the "Clum_y S_ag". Within the building, sounds of talking and trading could be heard within. It appears the Templars have jump started the market for survival days...

Inside the tavern, about 20 people are inside. A pair of humans sit in the corner, a dark spot and they quietly sit and absently play a game of cards, occasionally shooting a look of disdain to the others. There is a lone man, hood drawn sipping at a cup. Templars sit at a table leisurely, not in any rush compared to the others. The man leading you goes to sit down with them as well.

A group (human with one dwarf) is bartering hectically, trying to buy enough supplies to make the trek out to find these ruins. From their conversation, the price appears to have gone up to 3 CP per day. Another group (elvish) appears to have just gotten their rations and they start walking out with smug smiles on their faces. The trader they were talking to seems to be free now.

(OOC: We can start you guys off with 3 survival days each? You can buy some more if you think the travel is going to take longer)

((Edit: Changed the price of a survival day to 3 Cp. 1 Cp on average))

Trossach moved with the eclectic group to the tavern to gather supplies. He hated shopping. There were things to do and this just felt like standing around waiting. But he was well aware of how dangerous the world they lived in could be. This was boring, but important.

As the other groups began to clear out, Trossach moved towards the now open group of traders. "Let us get our supplies and move on." With that he bought the 3 days of supplies he thought needed. The price was high, but it really didn't matter much. If this trip was a success they would have money. If it wasn't, they probably wouldn't need it. So why worry about a couple of coins. He bought his survival days and moved on.

After the others spent their own cash he spoke again. "With rations I am ready to move out. Does anyone else need another stop before we continue? Let us begin this Templar task."

Klik meandered into the tavern and inn, currently occupied by provisioners and merchants as groups stocked up for their journey towards the ruins. It appeared as though the flurry of immediate necessity had inflated the price of survival packs; and with nary an attempt to hide their greed the merchant's grins showed their enthusiasm at benefiting from the Templar's decree.

Three days should cover the essentials for travels, but Klik was a wary sort. They would be travelling into unknown ruins, and with that, there were variables outside the kreen's control. To compensate, Klik waited until the others had purchased their provisions, and when the crowd thinned, approached the merchant he deemed the least likely to cheat him. (Insight) Approaching the merchant Klik will be sure to get the person's name.

Still bearing the markings of the Templars upon his armor, he had no qualms with utilizing what authority the association provided, and with that retrieved his coin and tried to haggle the merchant down to 2cp / survival day, reminding him through telepathy the graciousness Templars are apt to reciprocate after providing such protection for merchants to safely peddle their wares; that a strong working relationship could see many more customer's choosing his stand above others if turned by the word of a respectable doctor and Templar affiliate toward such a quality salesman. (scratch the antitoxin no way I can afford 50cp worth)

(if it fails he'll pay the 3cp / and get 4 days worth. (12cp) if he succeeds' he'll get four for 8cp and give him an extra in the interest of continued relations. (9cp)

With rations procured, Klik answered Trossach plainly. With pack full and coin purse empty, I see little more I can do but ready to depart.

Ochit made his way to one of the merchants. "Food, 3 day. Not cheat price" One look at the size of his customer was enough to convince the man not to try to take advantage of the slow talking one. After paying for his food, "Thank. Good man." With supplies readied Ochit waited for the others to be ready to leave.

OOC: Please deduct the going rate for food from my purse.

Crowe scanned the room, looking for any of the subtle hints that any of the gathered merchants may have gypsy ties. After all, the families were nothing if not opportunistic so it was completely possible that one of the gathered "merchants" was simply a con man like himself and he could cut a favorable deal.

((Crowe will look for any hint of alliance to a gypsy family among the gathered, if able to he will approach the merchant, greeting him in Celestial (as we discussed earlier being a language used by gypsies to communicate more privately around others) and then inquire about additional food and other available supplies at a "family" discount. If none of the merchants show signs of alliance he'll simply approach the one Ochit purchased his goods from and purchase 3 additional days.))

Morrígu's mood improved significantly once they stepped into the tavern and out of the wretched sun. And so she presented the trader with one of her most winning and promising smiles. She was rewarded with the usual bulging eyes and rapid movement. These surface dwellers were so accommodating when she smiled at them. It almost made living under the damn sun worth it, almost.

"Ay! Are you guys gonna be waiting all day over there? Or are you gonna be be useful and do the damn job we're payin you to do!
Reynard glared at the Templar. As if a couple of minutes would be a critical factor to this mission. He sighed, and moved towards the tavern with the party. As they walked, Reynard grumbled about the heat. His armour only added to the issue.

Once there, they found the merchants well prepared for their arrival, having prepared to charge extra for supplies. He grudgingly paid 6 cp to get 2 more days of rations. As the group slowly began to gather after buying supplies, Doc Klik and Trossach began to discuss leaving immediately.

"Perhaps we should leave in the evening or at first light tomorrow? This heat may end up causing more issues than a little delay." He paused, waiting for a response. "If most of us want to leave now, I shall by no means wait behind."

"Walk night. Moon not hot. Go when group say." Ochit often traveled at night to avoid the heat and to reduce the number of people he encountered.

Trossach and Ochit made their way to a human merchant, a female named Nalina. They quickly bought their things and made way. Doc Klik looked amidst the group, trying to find the most honest trader and he deemed that Nalina was indeed the most honest one.

He spoke to the woman, reminding her of the deeds of the templars and the protection that they offer to them. Nalina at first tries to haggle back but eventually she acquiesced, giving him four survival days for the price of 8Cp. At the extra coin, her face lit up with surprise and she thanked the thri-kreen profusely, making note to remember him.

Crowe prowled the tavern, looking for a sign of one of his kin. At first, there were no obvious marks but then again, the signs weren't obvious. His eyes honed in and he caught the outline of a symbol on the bracers of the man with his hood up, sipping at a cup. Crowe approached him, greeting him in celestial and he sat down. The man revealed himself to be a half-elf and he paused for a second, then greeted him back. The pair exchanged words, with Crowe telling him of the situation he's in and the man says

"The name's Zan. I'll give you your supplies. Family discount too right? 5Cp for 3 days of supplies. Lowest I can go in this area..". He leaned in close and said.

"But if you be looking for a fence, or someone to sell things too, best remember me, right friend?"

A few minutes passed and Zan handed Crowe some supplies, going upstairs to his room and he handed them to him.

Morrigu meanwhile took an entirely different approach and walked to one of the merchants, standing there and smiling at him, staring at him the entire time. He was visibly uncomfortable at the look and he asked her aggressively.

"You want something, dark-skinned freak?"

It appeared the inn goes quiet as the mans loud voice carrieed throughout the room.

The rest of you were in the corner, huddled and debating where and when to go. Your bags are filled with supplies and your coin purses are significantly lighter than before when you hear this.

((Sorry Nimu, I was a bit unclear what you char wanted to do. If you wanted to do something else or if you wanted to add something, just lemme know and I'll quickly post another update for it))

Ochit heard the man call their companion a freak. Although it might be true, it was impolite and Ochit had heard the same many times. he would not let anyone talk about another in such a manner. Walking over he looked at the merchant. "Word bad. Girl not freak. Sorry say."

When the cloaked man introduced himself as Zan the half-elf known as Crowe introduced himself to this "cousin" using the name only shared among members of the family, "Thank you Zan, I am Doran, and I will remember you should I need to move any hot goods." Just as they were finishing their business a shout rang out across the room, "You want something, dark-skinned freak?", and the tavern went silent.

Crowe made no move at this point for several reasons. First he wanted to see how the Dark Elf would handle the situation, could she keep her cool? Secondly, he knew better than to interfere in matters such as these, it only ever served to get him pulled into the madness, but to sit back and enjoy the show. Third... actually never mind, the brute Ochit had injected himself into the situation; of course he wouldn't know better...

Crowe watched on to see what would happen first. Would the Drow bring vengeance against the merchant, would he apologize, or was the brutish orc-kin going to break him? Given how intimidating the dummy could be Crowe's money was on the merchant apologizing...

"Ochit" was all Trossach could think as he saw the big half-orc defend the dark elf. Tross didn't want to get dragged into a fight by people he barely knew. And he had serious questions about the elf. But the half-orc was growing on him. Wise or not, he liked the sentiment that made the big guy defend the woman.

He kept his mouth shut to see what would happen, but he moved forward to stand a little behind Ochit. He wasn't obviously aggressive, he said nothing, and he was far enough back that his move might be missed. Someone really observant might notice. But from where he was he should be able to watch Ochit's back.

He didn't want to get dragged into this, but if things happened, well, he wanted to be in a position to assess what those things might be and react accordingly.

Doc sat in the corner minding his own when their newfound companion of obsidian complexion found herself bereft of manners at the hand of one merchant. At his boisterous response the tension within the merchant center grew tangibly thicker as those still around tensed up at the vocal discontent.

Doc noticed Ochit square up to defend the woman, and Trossach moved away from the table as well. While Doc did not think this would escalate to a primitive quarrel answered with fisticuffs, he didn't want to have to worry about patching up his party before the adventure even begun.

Focusing on the merchant first, Doc telepathically relayed Calm yourself good peddler. This place is crawling with Templar's and your lack of professionalism will only cost you time in the brig, cutting into your bottom line if this escalates.
Turning his attention to Morrigu, Doc thought to try and calm her down as well, but somehow thought another invasion of her mind in an already stressful situation might not be a wise decision. Instead he stood up and knocked the table over in an overly dramatic fashion spilling his water across the floor and his tankard to clatter next to the thud of wood on wood.

Taking any attention his actions have drawn, Doc addresses the room generically.

Pardon my clumsiness. My extra appendages sometimes get caught on things... allow me to clean it up
With that Doc will flip the table back up and mop up his spill with part of his apron.

Reynard nodded to Ochit. "As cold as it is during the night, I feel that it would be easier for us armoured folk to stay warm in the nights than to not cook in the day. I know that torches are limiting, but I feel we will be able to make the best progress at that time. And have no-"

"You want something, dark-skinned freak?"
Reynard looked over to see one of his companions, Morrigu the Drow, standing in front of some merchant. He did not seem at all happy with whom he was dealing with. Ochit and Doc Klik both immediately rose to help, with Doc Klik knocking over their table in the process. Trossach too moved in, though he said nothing. Reynard wiped some off the spilled water off of himself sighing slightly to himself.

Unaware Doc Klik had said anything to the merchant, and noting the silence in the inn, Reynard stood up and moved beside Morrigu. In any other situation, he would have watched for how a Drow would react. After all, they were not known for being a pleasant species. However, he would stand up for his companions. He didn't want any off them stabbing him in the back during the mission, after all.

"Sir, I understand where the distaste for Drow stems from; however, I am afraid that I can not simply consent to you accosting one of my group members. Therefore, as Ochit has previously stated I do recommend you apologise." After waiting for a response, Reynard addressed the rest of the silent inn in a guard-like manner. "Nothing more to concern yourselves with. Return to your drinks and frivolities."

"ELGG OL! ELGG OL ELGG OL!" Xenophobella's screams filled the air as she thrashed about wildly. "Gilt'r tir olt siltrin! Sel'lor ol pholor chath! Chathes l'wael lu"zirn ol ulu olt sifsihlian dalharen. ELGG OL!" (KILL IT! KILL IT! KILL IT! Rip off its flesh! Set it aflame! Roast the fool and feed it to its nasty children. KILL IT!)

Morrígu instead stood there and silently continued to smile with a dangerous light in her eyes. She traced over his face, memorizing every detail. The ugly man had been most rude and she really didn't like him. Not one bit. He'd have to die, but not right now with all the nasty Templars watching. Xenophobella should no better than that. Trader flambé would have to wait for a time when they were alone. It would be so nice. Maybe she'd keep him in a room without any light and remove a little something from him everyday. She'd have to start with his nasty tongue...

As Morrígu thought on all the fun they would be having together, the others gathered around her, even Ochit. Why big old Ochit was the first one to come to her defense. She might not have to break him after all. With all her new friends around her, Morrígu beamed with glee and giggled.

Leaning in the dark elven girl batted her eyes demurely as she stared up into the trader's eyes, "Tell me, how well do your children sleep at night?"