"That looks about right for what we might be looking for." Violet said in a hushed voice.

((As PM, Violet hearing Asher's voiced notion of turning back now))

"I agree. We set out to find their hidey place, and as far as we know, this is it. Too risky to check further." Violet rubbed her upper arms, trying to get warmth to reach the inner muscles.

"I'd like to take a moment to get this spot recorded though," Violet added, looking around, "Let's see if we can find some trees nearby, get off the ground. Can you keep lookout while I try making a map? Or do you think we should just head back now?"

((If Asher thinks they really should just go back, then Violet will agree and then they'll head back.

Otherwise, the plan will be to find some place slightly secluded and Violet will actually draw a map so anycreature can be directed to the crevice with the map (well, hopefully, I don't know if cartography is in Violet's skillset yet)

Also, this is totally part of why Violet has a writing kit in her inventory ))

[Slightly east of The Masons’ Way, northeast of the Murkenhill Forks, Mid Spring, Year 54 AR, present time, fifteen minutes past noon.]

"That looks about right for what we might be looking for." Violet said in a hushed voice.
"Indeed. Let's get back to the wagons. We might even get some lunch." Asher did his best to whisper.

"I agree. We set out to find their hidey place, and as far as we know, this is it. Too risky to check further." Violet rubbed her upper arms, trying to get warmth to reach the inner muscles.

"I'd like to take a moment to get this spot recorded though," Violet added, looking around, "Let's see if we can find some trees nearby, get off the ground. Can you keep lookout while I try making a map? Or do you think we should just head back now?"
Asher answered, "I have no problem watching out while you make a quick map of things if your paper is dry. We have a few minutes to spare."

With that he starts back looking for a tree or someplace to hole up in for a few minutes.

Fenir gathered his throwing axes and sighed, he admitted to himself that he was quite relieved when Oltovian had backed down. moving over to the soup pot he dished himself a bowl of vegetable stew and a piece of bread and slouched down against a wagon wheel close enough he could hear both sides of the conversation Oltovian had with the bandits as he questioned them. Fenir pulled a handful of grass and wiped his bowl out.

"Master Weldon do you have a kettle or a pot in witch to heat water with?" asked Fenir already with a plan in progress

master weldon's response ( if yes read below if no skip to **)
moving to the brush at the side of the road he stripped a young willow sapling of its leaves and a few of the soft new growth. tearing and bruising the leaves and scoring the twig bark he added them to a clay mug and added water to the cup. As he waited for it to steep, he made a note to take it to Simon last giving it time to strengthen. He'd make a strong willow tea to give to Simon for his pain, the grimace on his face held it obvious that his foot was causing him great discomfort,Simon had been lucky he'd not received worse.

** Fenir dished a small portion of soup and added water to it to make a more broth like Constancy. though he new if tables were turned he'd not be given the same courtesy he moved over to the bandits he handed the bowl to one of the young twins who looked beyond miserable and near half starved.
before the other twin could voice a protests fenir cut him off.

" when he's done i'll bring you a bowl as well. you boys' look like you'd used a good meal."

Fenir couldn't help but think of the lavish feast Mistress Olive would have prepared for such scrawny and wayward kits back at the Abby.
he grinned as the bowl now empty was tossed at his feet and he rose to fetch another for the other boy.

pending a response to him feeding them
he repeated the process of feeding each of the bandits in turn, though the older bandits he made most of the soup broth rather then making sure they had veg in it. both because they looked in better condition and to make the soup go farther. if they had more time he'd have had foraged for wild spring vegetables to add to the soup.

he chuckled.
Mistress Olive was warring off on him he was starting to think like a cook.
sitting down he waited impatiently for the squirrel scouts to return.

[The Masons’ Way, northeast of the Murkenhill Forks, Mid Spring, Year 54 AR, present time, fifteen minutes past noon.]
Fenir gathered his throwing axes and sighed, he admitted to himself that he was quite relieved when Oltovian had backed down. moving over to the soup pot he dished himself a bowl of vegetable stew and a piece of bread and slouched down against a wagon wheel close enough he could hear both sides of the conversation Oltovian had with the bandits as he questioned them. Fenir pulled a handful of grass and wiped his bowl out.

Weldon had busied himself with the wagons as Oltovian questioned the bandit captives. Finding a roll of cotton cloth, the mole cut himself a stride’s length before returning to the fire.

"Master Weldon, do you have a kettle or a pot in which to heat water with?" asked Fenir, already with a plan in progress.
“Aye, of course, lad,” Weldon replied. “Dremmon’s cart’s got an iron kettle. ‘elp yer self to it, and fill it from the barrel.”

The badger found the kettle with ease and filled it with water from the barrel. Placing the kettle over the fire, Fenir moved on to scavenge for a willow sapling. The exercise took some time as few willows grew in the region.

Finally locating one about a stone’s throw into the woods, Fenir stripped the sapling as tenderly as his massive paws could. Returning to the fire, he found the water nearly boiled. Weldon watched the badger with curiosity, as Fenir tore and bruised the leaves and marked up the tender twig before adding them to his mug and pouring in some boiling water.

The hint of a smile graced the old mole’s face as he realized what the badger warrior was up to. Weldon kept it to himself, though, and continued to mind his own business as he worked the cloth into strips.

The badger step the homebrew aside to steep and went on to ladle out a bowl of the soup, added a bit of water to the bowl, before bringing it over to Teddy.

The raccoons were bound fore and hind paws, with little ability to move. The badger was forced to serve the slender raccoon, bringing the spoon to the pathetic creature’s mouth. Teddy, uncertain at first, when he realized what was being offered slurped up the food eagerly. Before the other twin could voice a protest, Fenir cut him off:

"When he's done, I'll bring you a bowl as well. You boys' look like you'd use a good meal."
When Teddy had finished the bowl, Fenir went back, as he had promised, and fetched a second bowl. Weldon approached him as the badger prepared to water down the soup once more.

“No need, lad,” Weldon said quietly. “There be plenty ‘nough to go ‘round. Ye got the right idea, Fenir,” the mole said, looking over his shoulder at the raccoons, a touch of sadness on his face. “Give ‘em their fill to warm their bellies. Still some time before we be reachin’ Stormhollow and they’ll need their strength.”

Fenir returned to Terry and began feeding him as well. As he did, Weldon came and knelt before Simon, one paw full of strips of cloth, the other with a flask of some kind of alcohol.

“’old yer paw still, Simon,” Weldon said firmly, but with compassion. “Clean this up ‘fore we be leavin’, less ye be lookin’ to lose it.” Simon winced as Weldon poured some of the alcohol over the wound and cleaned it with a strip of cloth. “Aye,” quipped the mole. “Suspect it some’in’ fierce right ‘bout now. Still got three ‘ours ‘til we be reachin’ Stormhollow. They’ll take care of it fer ye then. Fer now... well, ye can ride with me boy and Fenir ‘ere in the wagon.”

Weldon finished binding the wound with the other strips of cloth before calling out to his boys, “Aidyn, Drennon, ‘elp Fenir out ‘ere, lads, and fetch a couple bowls for the others.” The mole boys moved quickly to obey their father, serving up Gannon and Mitts.

Fenir returned with a third bowl and the mug of steeped willow for Simon. When the bandit leader looked at the mug with suspicion, Fenir explained the liquid would help take the edge off the pain. The raccoon gave the badger a nod of thanks, and accepted the gift.

Asher and Vi returned in their own tracks and noticed a slight overhang in the limestone formation.

"Whaddaya think of this sbot Vi?", asked Asher while his nose continued to be uncooperative. "I may be able to imbrove it a bit by holding my cloak just right..."

Vi nodded as they reached the limestone, "Not as comfortable as a tree, but there's a severe lack of trees in the neighbourhood. Do these 'coons have something against trees? Really."

But for all her talking, Vi shivered again, rubbing her arms once more. The sense that she needed to sneeze started tickling her nose.

Seriously? She thought to herself, I could have sworn hay fever was later.
Violet reached into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, holding it over her nose until the feeling subsided. She shook her head as she put it away.

"I swear, hay fever comes earlier every year." She muttered as she pulled out her writing kit and one of her pieces of parchment, before starting on her work.

It wasn't going to be the best map in the world, but with a bit of a lack of landmarks, that was to be expected. At least she had a good sense of distance. She knew approximately how long they had travelled, and their direction. That would be enough to get the basic area.

With her rough map complete, Violet made motion to Asher that she was ready to return back to the wagons. The two squirrels made haste, not wanting to be late and hoping to catch a bowl of something warm to help take the chill out of their bones.

The pair was not disappointed. Upon returning to the quickly made camp, Asher and Violet were rewarded each with steaming bowls of warm vegetable soup.

OOC: Feel free to add any conversation here between yourselves.
As the hour past, Master Weldon gave orders to his boys to break camp and prepare the wagons for the journey ahead. “Oltovian, perhaps ye might grace we humble beasts with a work shanty? A lil’ holler, if ye please?”

OOC: Hammer, you’re welcome to add something here.
The efficiency at which the mole clan worked was a testimony to the many times they had done the task before. Within thirty minutes, dishes were washed and stored, lizards were checked and fed, barrels of food stuffs that had been used were put back in their proper places.

OOC:Feel free to post what your character is doing while the wagons are being loaded up.
Weldon had tied the raccoons, Gannon and Mitts, to the back of the lead wagon, and Teddy and Terry to the back of his own. For Simon, the mole had reserved the seat beside himself. “Ye don’t mind me hopes, lad,” Weldon said to Oltovian. “Me just wants a lil’ chat with Simon. Ye be welcome t’ ride in th’ back, if ye please. Else there b’ th’ seat next t’ Aidyn. Likely talk yer ear off, that one.”

And with that, Weldon called out to his sons that it was time to move on to Storm Hollow.

OOC: Well, I’m not done, but this is the best I could do for tonight. I’ll look to post up some more tomorrow. Feel free to response to this.

It wasn't hard to backtrace their path back to the wagons, and true to word, it hadn't been an hour, so they were still there. Vi tilted her head upward to smell the air, and she could detect the aroma of vegetables from the soup. That was when she found that she was indeed hungry, and increased her pace a bit.

Entering the camp proper, she made her way over to pick up two bowls, and ladled soup for both her and Asher, offering one to the latter when he got there (unless he beat her to it of course).

The warm stew helped immensely to stave off the chilled feeling in her bones, and she felt refreshed afterward. Afterward, she spoke up to the others.

"Asher and I followed them to a crevice, and as far as we could see, it seemed like it's just part of the natural rock. Now, in that sort of place, pawsteps echo good distances if you're not careful. We could hear them going through it, but if our pawsteps were added to that noise, it could've alerted any sentries that they had. Terrain familiarity was theirs, not ours, so we decided to let them think they got away cleanly." Violet reported.

(presuming somebeast asks about where it is or if they can locate it again)

Violet nodded, carefully indicating one of her belt pouches while keeping her 'wings' from showing, "We didn't leave without thinking about how to get back. I drew a rough map of the path we took to get there, and the rough location of the crevice, which is where we last saw them at. I reckon we should pass it or a copy to authorities at Stormhollow at the same time as handing this group of 'coons over."

With that said, Violet returned to the pot and got herself a second bowl. Just one second, as always. 'Second' meant just one more, not more than that. At least, that was what she always told herself.

(leaving room for further RP, will post more as more interactions are included)

***

When it came time to help pack, Violet helped with making sure the dishes and cutlery were cleaned as could be, and safely packed back where they were on the wagons prior to their use. She worked swiftly but not without care, being eager to get back into the treetops and off of the ground, as well as to keep an eye out for the usnea, if any grew this far from Murkenhill.

Perhaps also some flowers, though it was a bit early in the trip to be carrying flowers. Surely they would wilt before they got back. But at least Violet might be able to find a bush or plant that she could remember to draw a bloom or two from later, on their way back. She liked to bring back a bloom or two if she could, every time she was out of the Abbey. She hoped it made for story material for Florence as well.

Entering the camp proper, she made her way over to pick up two bowls, and ladled soup for both her and Asher, offering one to the latter when he got there.
Asher accepted the bowl of soup with a very nasal "Thanks!" and began to slurp right off the side of the bowl. He let out the occasional unmistakable sigh of one drinking while unable to breathe through the nose. His second bowl of mostly broth he took a little more time with and honked his nose on his damp sleeve.

He tried to help the moles with their cleanup but found himself more in the way, disrupting their well practiced dance of packing up after a rest.

As the caravan made ready to move out he found that he was torn between taking point or keeping a position that allowed him to watch the prisoners. It didn't take long to decide that his job was to watch for the unknown danger and the others should be able to keep eyes on the prisoners.

Once the caravan started moving he took the forward position and hoped again for a chance to dry himself in some warmth when they reached Stormhollow.

Fenir rose from his prone nap against a wagon wheel positoned both where he could see the captives and the drirection where abouts he figured Vi and Asher would be most likley to come from upon thier return. Moving over to the soup pot he sat with Vi and Asher to hear their report. furrowing his chin in his hand as he listened.

"Asher and I followed them to a crevice, and as far as we could see, it seemed like it's just part of the natural rock. Now, in that sort of place, pawsteps echo good distances if you're not careful. We could hear them going through it, but if our pawsteps were added to that noise, it could've alerted any sentries that they had. Terrain familiarity was theirs, not ours, so we decided to let them think they got away cleanly." Vi reported.

fenir glowered but chuckkled as Asher blew his nose on the hem of his sleave with a loud honking noise. Fenir looked at the wagons and sighed dishearteningly.

" Do you think you'd be able to find it again need be?" Fenir questioned looking at both Vi and Asher.

Fenir gave a knowing smile as Vi patted her belt.

After Vi rose and gathered herself another bowl fenir hastened to ask.

"What do you think our best course of actions are, once we get to Stormhollow?" Fenir asked gruffly, picking at dried mud on his pant's knee.

(response to question if any)

Weldon's voice broke the hushed talk.
Fenir moved to help where he could, and not be in the way. helping Aidyn pack up the food barrels. with a grunt he easily hefted one onto each shoulder and followed Aidyn who packed the remaining barrel of food stuffs.

Fenir chuckled as he saw Asher trying his best to help with the clean up, to Fenir's shaggrin Asher disheartened gave in an moved to watch over the prisoners.

Fenir was antsy until the caravan had gotten underway.
Asher had taken point and Vi had melded into the treeline once more.

Fenir watched the coons in front of him trudge after the wagon. wondering if circumstances had been different and he'd not found the Abbey when he had would he have been any different then the curs before him? though it wouldn't take long to get the rest of the way to Stormhollow, but Fenir felt like it would feel like ages

The journey to Storm Hollow was quiet but slow going. The companions soon discovered that, as gruff as Master Weldon might be, he took care to show hospitality to his captives and stopped regularly to ensure they had something to drink. The rains had made the roadway muddy and the hard march to the town miserable enough.

As the wagon train near the town, the old mole called for another stop.

“Again, Father?” Aidyn questioned, frustration filling his voice. “We be just ‘bout there now.” Looking over at the mud-caked ‘coons, he added, “They not needin’ anymore water.”

“Mind ye tongue there, lad,” Weldon replied, gentle yet firm, as he hoped off his wagan and made his way to the captives once more. “If ye good father says we b’ stoppin’, well, we be stoppin’. Me be thinkin’ me’ve been faithful and good t’ ye long ‘nough t’ earn some bit o’ trust from ye that ye needn’t b’ questionin’ how me b’ runnin’ this train, hmpm!”

The mole’s son quieted himself, while Weldon turned his attention to the raccoons. “Alright, lads. Up in the wagons with ye. Ye b’ a pitiable sight the lot o’ ye. Me’ve no heart t’ b’ draggin ye sorry selves through t’ the center o’ town. So, up ye get. Quick like. Ye lot already delayed me long ‘nough. Let’s go.”

With some assistance, the worn out bandits complied with the mole. The younger ones, Terry and Teddy, thanked Weldon for the small kindness.

[OOC: Feel free to post some reaction here (physical assistance, internal thoughts, etc).]

The train was moving soon enough with the raccoon now sitting huddled under the covered wagons.

Approaching Storm Hollow, each of the companions notes how the town seems almost familiar, though none have been this far north before. Made almost completely from worked stone, the town has many similarities to the Abbey. A squat stone wall surrounds perimeter of the town, roughly half the height of the Abbey’s walls. The buildings too are also almost exclusively made of stone, shorter in stature than the Abbey’s structures, with mostly flat roofs.

It is nearly dinner time when the wagon train pulls through Storm Hollow, and the dusk is approaching. Beasts are scurrying to their homes, mostly moles, after the day’s work. A few greet Weldon and his sons by name, the moles engage them in casual conversation, mostly about the weather or the trip to Abbey.

[OOC: Not much, but I'm still sick, so it's a start. I hope to post more later this week.]

Weldon continued to move the train towards the center of town. Looking around, the companions note how Storm Hollow is dwarfed and nestled within two large hills.

Finally, the old mole calls for a stop in front of a large and sturdy, two story building. An equally sturdy badger, dressed in padded cloth and armed with two axes on his belt, stands at attention before a set of solid iron doors.

Master Weldon steps off from his seat and approaches the guards. “Jorge! It b’ good t’ see ye. Master Telfor b’ in? Caught some bandits that ‘ave been stirrin’ trouble near the maze.”

The guard to the left of the door, Jorge, eased his stance a bit and gave a look over at the captives. “Simon Crag? That be you?” Jorge asks in recognition. The companions can hear the rising tension in the badger’s voice. If they were to look at the bandit leader, they would notice Simon’s look of fear. Jorge takes a step forward menacingly, drawing his axes. “Oh, I oughta cut you in two for how you left my brother for dead in the ditch.”

Weldon placed a hand on the guard’s chest, halting Jorge’s movement. “Easy, lad. Justice b’ comin’ ‘is way. No need for ye t’ take it in ye own ‘ands now.”

The badger snorted, but complied with the mole.

“Now,” continued Master Weldon gently. “How ye brother b’ recoverin’?”

Jorge gave Simon a look full of malice as he replied, “Well enough. Your sweet Ginger has worked a miracle on Lucas’s leg. He’ll likely be walking again before the new moon comes around.”

Patting Jorge’s shoulder, Weldon responded cheerfully, “Well, that b’ good news for the ‘eart, hmm? Now, ye bringin’ up me dear wife’s name ‘as got me longin’ for home. So... ‘ow ‘bout rustlin’ Master Telfor from ‘is dinner so as we can b’ gettin’ t’ some too?”

Jorge snorted once more before disappearing behind the heavy set doors. Ten minutes nearly passed by before the badger returned, followed by a well muscled mole dressed in chainmail and carrying a large wide-bladed axe across his shoulders and a beefy hedgehog armed with a spear.

“Master Telfor,” Weldon greeted the mole with a friendly nod.

“Weldon,” Telfor said gruffly, returning the nod. “Jorge tells me you’ve captured Simon Crag and some of his gang.” The town reeve looked over the captives.

OOC: Feel free to add your responses here, including the map and such.
“Very good,” Telfor says, satisfied. “Panir. Jorge.” The hedgehog and badger stand at attention.

“Sir?” the hedgehog, Panir, answers.

“Show Simon and his friends to their new rooms.”

“Yes, sir.”

The hedgehog and badger gather the bandits into a line and march them through the doorway. Master Telfor draws out two cloth pouches and hands them to Weldon. “Your reward, as laid out by the town’s decree.”

“Servin’ the folk b’ reward ‘nough,” Weldon replied. “Though, this will more than cover the costs lost in time.” He gave the reeve another nod. “We b’ grateful for the kindness.” He tosses one of the pouches to Fenir as the companions reward for their assistance.

OOC: The pouch contains 30 gold coins, plus 10 extra gold coins if the party decided to hand over the map and explain it to Telfor.
OOC: Also, feel free to add in any other response/questions you might have for Telfor here.
“Well, a good night t’ ye, Master Telfor,” Weldon said in farewell.

“Thank you,” replied Telfor. “And to all of you as well.” The reeve disappeared back into the building.

Weldon turned his attention to the companions. “Well, friends. The night b’ approachin’ and we best not risk travellin’ t’ the Mine, what with that wicked owl flyin’ ‘bout. Me and me lads needin’ t’ b’ ‘eadin’ ‘ome. ‘opfully, the missus got somethin’ warm waitin’ for we three. Me’d invite ye over, but ye’d end up sleepin’ in the shed with the pack beasts and me b’ thinkin’ ye all could b’ usin’ a soft, warm bed for the night. ‘Cross the street b’ an inn run by likely the kindest mouse couple me ever did meet. Sure they’ll show ye some fine ‘ospitality.”

OOC: Feel free to add any comments or questions here.
“Alright, then,” Weldon said, climbing up onto his wagon once more. “We’ll meet ye ‘ere come mid-mornin’. The good Creator willin’, we’ll get t’ the Mine come lunch. A good night t’ ye.”

OOC: Assuming you head to the inn Weldon suggested.
The companions watched the wagon train move on before crossing the street to the inn. The building was about the same size as the reeve’s home, but glass windows around the exterior allow the warm glow from inside to escape, making the place far more inviting.

Entering into the inn, the companions find themselves in a large common room. A large fire burns in the center of the room, with tables and chairs made of pine much of the space around it. Colored tapestries hang from the stone walls also help to lighten up the drag grey, worked stone. To the left, the friends notice a wooden staircase leads to the second floor balcony that wraps around the common room. Multiple doors along the second floor suggest that the sleeping quarters are up there. To the right, a polished marble counter top set upon wood runs the length of the common room with wooden stools placed before along the way.

From behind the counter, a slender male mouse with spectacles makes his way to the companions. “Welcome, guests!” he greets them warmly. “Welcome. Welcome. Come inside. Come inside. It is so good to see you. Welcome.”

OOC: Feel free to insert your greeting here.
“Well,” the mouse says, catching his breath. “We’ll glad you have come. Glad you have come. I’m Martin, master of our humble home here. My wife, Rosey, should be along shortly. Just keeping the supper from burning, you know.” Martin leads the companions to a table with round table with six chairs close to the fire. “Now, now, what can we do for you fine beasts?”

OOC: Add here your requested for dinner and/or room(s).
“Yes, yes! Right away. Right away,” Martain nodded and scurried back to what the companions assume is the kitchen.

Looking around the room, the friends notice the other guests :

... a pair of grey squirrels, with large bushy tails, sit at a table together, nudging each other and obviously talking about the companions. They are armed with short swords and their bows and quivers are slung over their chairs.

... a trio of moles sit close together on stools at the counter. Judging by their appearance, it would seem that they are miners.

... a male and female mole couple sit at a small table on the opposite side of the fire. They appear unarmed.

... a beautiful female hare and a well-groomed male fox sit at a table near the stairs. The fox has a long sword at his side.

OOC: Alright, that should get you going again. I’m away until Monday with little to no wifi access, so I’ll look to reply to any questions/comments then.

Fenir sighed as weldon called for a stop yet again. Aidyn voiced his complaint before Fenir could. when weldon cowed his son, fenir was glad he hadn't grumbled. jumping down from the wagon as weldon called for the coon's to be helped to the wagon.

fenir hefted the scrawny framed coon's feeling a little bad the twins were not much but skin an bones. once everyone had been loaded fenir was muddy and damp but he jumped back up on to the wagon. scraping the caked mud off his feet on the wheel thine as he got back up into the wagon box.

Fenir's stomach let a low gurgle as they finally entered Storm Hollow. intrigued on the construction of perimeter wall the square stones chinked together made a impressive barrier wall. though the town seemed squat compared to the high airy walls of the Abby. the air seemed cooler blowing down from the twin mountains which the town was nestled between.

Fenir was impressed when the ol' badger came out even in his old age his stature made Fenir look his age. Fenir eyed his twin axes, but Weldon's jovial tone made him relax a little. Fenir's respect for the little mole only seemed to grow the longer he was with him. he handled himself and others well.

“Weldon,” Telfor said gruffly, returning the nod. “Jorge tells me you've captured Simon Crag and some of his gang.” The town reeve looked over the captives.
Fenir moved to stand nearer Weldon.

Violet didn't mind the start and stop pacing of the caravans as much as the others might have, but at the same time, that might have been partly to do with the fact that she was not on the ground (if she could help it), but it was also the fact that, if Master Weldon was not in any hurry, then she felt no reason to be too fast either. Go too fast and you miss possible flowers or other plant life. Or strawberry patches. Either way, it's possible to miss a lot just by going too fast.

Unfortunately the trees would only be with Violet for so long, and eventually she'd have to return to the ground.

When she did walk with the group proper, it was as they entered the city. Self consciously, Violet drew her shawl more around her, to make sure there was nothing showing. She would move up to stand beside Fenrir as the other badger came out to meet them. Vi had to do a double take between the two badgers.

"I almost can't believe that you might still be growing, Fenrir. You're already quite tall." Vi murmurred to Fenrir in jest as Weldon and Telfor exchanged words.

“Weldon,” Telfor said gruffly, returning the nod. “Jorge tells me you’ve captured Simon Crag and some of his gang.” The town reeve looked over the captives.
Violet took the opportunity to speak up, "We also tailed the ones that ran a bit. I'm afraid we can't give you an exact location, because we didn't want to give away that we were tailing them, but we followed them to a stone crevice at least. Here." With that she carefully draws from one of her pouches a rolled up scroll, her drawn map from earlier, and offers it to Telfor, careful to make sure that her 'wing' is held close to her arm as she holds it out.

“Very good,” Telfor says, satisfied. “Panir. Jorge.” The hedgehog and badger stand at attention.

“Sir?” the hedgehog, Panir, answers.

“Show Simon and his friends to their new rooms.”

“Yes, sir.”

The hedgehog and badger gather the bandits into a line and march them through the doorway. Master Telfor draws out two cloth pouches and hands them to Weldon. “Your reward, as laid out by the town’s decree.”

“Servin’ the folk b’ reward ‘nough,” Weldon replied. “Though, this will more than cover the costs lost in time.” He gave the reeve another nod. “We b’ grateful for the kindness.” He tosses one of the pouches to Fenir as the companions reward for their assistance.

“Well, a good night t’ ye, Master Telfor,” Weldon said in farewell.

“Thank you,” replied Telfor. “And to all of you as well.” The reeve disappeared back into the building.

Weldon turned his attention to the companions. “Well, friends. The night b’ approachin’ and we best not risk travellin’ t’ the Mine, what with that wicked owl flyin’ ‘bout. Me and me lads needin’ t’ b’ ‘eadin’ ‘ome. ‘opfully, the missus got somethin’ warm waitin’ for we three. Me’d invite ye over, but ye’d end up sleepin’ in the shed with the pack beasts and me b’ thinkin’ ye all could b’ usin’ a soft, warm bed for the night. ‘Cross the street b’ an inn run by likely the kindest mouse couple me ever did meet. Sure they’ll show ye some fine ‘ospitality.”
Violet nodded, "Makes good sense to me. If it's a nightly critter then avoid encountering it by avoiding the night."

“Alright, then,” Weldon said, climbing up onto his wagon once more. “We’ll meet ye ‘ere come mid-mornin’. The good Creator willin’, we’ll get t’ the Mine come lunch. A good night t’ ye.”
"So everyone up for a night at the inn? I don't have any other suggestions, I mean, first time I've been here and all. Unless somebeast has been here before and hasn't shared secret passages or secret spots of secret strawberry patches or secret hidey places." Violet looks to the others. It's hard to tell how serious she is about trying to find a secret hidden strawberry patch even if she's told there isn't any...

((Presuming no disagreement to the inn))

The companions watched the wagon train move on before crossing the street to the inn. The building was about the same size as the reeve’s home, but glass windows around the exterior allow the warm glow from inside to escape, making the place far more inviting.

Entering into the inn, the companions find themselves in a large common room. A large fire burns in the center of the room, with tables and chairs made of pine much of the space around it. Colored tapestries hang from the stone walls also help to lighten up the drag grey, worked stone. To the left, the friends notice a wooden staircase leads to the second floor balcony that wraps around the common room. Multiple doors along the second floor suggest that the sleeping quarters are up there. To the right, a polished marble counter top set upon wood runs the length of the common room with wooden stools placed before along the way.

From behind the counter, a slender male mouse with spectacles makes his way to the companions. “Welcome, guests!” he greets them warmly. “Welcome. Welcome. Come inside. Come inside. It is so good to see you. Welcome.”
Violet waved, though being careful to again keep her 'wing' close to the arm so as not to stretch it, resulting in a more shy looking wave, "Thank you for your hospitality," She replies semiformally, making sure to try and leave a good impression as she was taught when she was an abbeybabe as she walked up to the counter.

“Well,” the mouse says, catching his breath. “We’ll glad you have come. Glad you have come. I’m Martin, master of our humble home here. My wife, Rosey, should be along shortly. Just keeping the supper from burning, you know.” Martin leads the companions to a table with round table with six chairs close to the fire. “Now, now, what can we do for you fine beasts?”
"I don't know about the guys but I'd like a room and a share of dinner, if there's room." Violet returned, giving a smile.

“Yes, yes! Right away. Right away,” Martain nodded and scurried back to what the companions assume is the kitchen.
Violet scratched at the back of her head as she watched the mouse scurry off, "Oh... wait... uh, think I was supposed to ask if they wanted help with dishes or similar?" She asked, looking back at her companions, not entirely used to the ways of an inn.

((Going to leave it at this for now =) Looking forward to playing more. Apologies for lateness, homework has been a pain lately))

Asher eased his guard as they approached Storm Hollow. He paused for the wagons to pass trough the gates first since he didn't really know where to go afterwards. While waiting he caught himself entertaining a bit of self pity due to the discomfort of the mud and rain. Upon realizing this he shifted his thoughts to something happier: the kindness of Master Weldon.

Master Weldon steps off from his seat and approaches the guards. “Jorge! It b’ good t’ see ye. Master Telfor be in? Caught some bandits that ‘ave been stirrin’ trouble near the maze.”
"The maze. That must be what we tracked those other bandits to." Asher thought. He made a mental note to ask Weldon more about it tomorrow.

...

“Servin’ the folk b’ reward ‘nough,” Weldon replied. “Though, this will more than cover the costs lost in time.” He gave the reeve another nod. “We b’ grateful for the kindness.” He tosses one of the pouches to Fenir as the companions reward for their assistance.
Asher piped up, "Hey Fen, maybe we should give some of that for Jorge's brother? Half of that should be more than enough to see to our lodgings. That is, unless there are objections...". He hoped to follow Master Weldon's example of kindness.

...

From behind the counter, a slender male mouse with spectacles makes his way to the companions. “Welcome, guests!” he greets them warmly. “Welcome. Welcome. Come inside. Come inside. It is so good to see you. Welcome.”

Violet waved, though being careful to again keep her 'wing' close to the arm so as not to stretch it, resulting in a more shy looking wave, "Thank you for your hospitality," She replies semiformally, making sure to try and leave a good impression as she was taught when she was an abbeybabe as she walked up to the counter.
Archer nodded to the mouse innkeeper and looked around the place to get his bearings.

“Well,” the mouse says, catching his breath. “We’re glad you have come. Glad you have come. I’m Martin, master of our humble home here. My wife, Rosey, should be along shortly. Just keeping the supper from burning, you know.” Martin leads the companions to a table with round table with six chairs close to the fire. “Now, now, what can we do for you fine beasts?”

"I don't know about the guys but I'd like a room and a share of dinner, if there's room." Violet returned, giving a smile.
"And I'm lookin' forward to a warm fire, some wash-water and a soft spot to sleep. But let's start with whatever's warm for supper.", Archer added as he hung his cloak and quiver and bow over the back of the chair. He still wasn't feeling in tip-top shape but the prospect of having a dry night and rest set his mind at ease.

As he sat his hatchet handle clanked against the chair and he looked around the room to see if anybeast was taking an interest in what the group was carrying.