As the lights came back on, Wembley gave a little squeak of surprise. "Crow! Whew! You spooked me. I was just thinking we should lure the wood-stick warrior into the portal and see how he gets along with the clean-a-thing. But, looks like your kin has everything under control."

Wembley gives Crow a pat on the arm and makes his way over to where others are beginning to gather around the wood stick warrior. Wembley scoops up the wooden sword and drops his bone club. Ah! Now that's a bit better!
The group puts out a suggestion to go up the stairs. "Sounds like a fine plan to me. But I was thinking... think we should check to see what would happen if we stepped back through the portal? I'm just wondering if it leads back to the place we were just at, or if it teleports us to a whole new adventure. What do you think? Should we test it out first?"

The group puts out a suggestion to go up the stairs. "Sounds like a fine plan to me. But I was thinking... think we should check to see what would happen if we stepped back through the portal? I'm just wondering if it leads back to the place we were just at, or if it teleports us to a whole new adventure. What do you think? Should we test it out first?"
“An excellent notion,” Alôndas responded to the Cidal’s remarks and nodded his head, “Would anyone like to volunteer to try it out?” He glanced at Crow and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“If anyone does this though,” he went on, “I suggest they go through and it does take them back to where we were that they return here immediately to inform us all. If it takes you someplace else, you might not want to try and step back through the portal as no telling where it would take you. We might not find you, ever.”

He gave a little smirk as he was want to do at times when something amusing came to him.

"Well, seeing as it was my suggestion," Wembley started. "I am ready to go." He paused for a moment.

"But I was kind of thinking, maybe, we'd all go back through at the same time... like how we went through to get here. What do you think?"

And just like that the fight was over, Crow never having to fire one of his 5 precious arrows. However as the light from & spell revealed it was all about the bottles of beverages stored within this cellar. And who had by taking up one of these bottles started this ‘fight’ yep you got it Mr. ‘mind your own business I’ll do want I want’ Alondas. Shaking his head, Crow waited for his turn to move up the stairs, though he longed to say something to his fellow Sylvari. However he knew it would only cause more discontent between the two of them and that was one thing not needed by the group as a whole.

For now he would remain silent and see how things developed and go from there. His attention was brought back to the present by a pat on the arm from Wembly.

"Crow! Whew! You spooked me. I was just thinking we should lure the wood-stick warrior into the portal and see how he gets along with the clean-a-thing. But, looks like your kin has everything under control."

Not saying a word Crow smiled at the young Cidal and nodded his head but the look in his eyes telling the truth of his true feelings about using the portal and his ‘kin’.

The party elects to move up the stairs, leaving the seemingly dead ninja behind. Mal and Alôndas examine the body to determined it was indeed not a living being but made of flesh like substance that was not the right colour of textile nature of flesh.

Moving upwards you move into another 30x30 room with a stairs going down (you just came up) and another going up. There is also another black portal in this room. This wine cellar is setup much like the other except that this room is dedicated to wine. Reds on one wall, white on another, roses on the third and a multitude of colours on the last. You examine this room but find nothing unusual and no ninja comes running when you move or remove bottles.

No secret doors found or clues to what your situation is, you move up to the next area. Again, 30x30 with and up and down stairs and a portal.

This room is dedicated to casks and kegs that are stacked on the shelves and in the centre of the room there are two large casks (3’Wx4’Lx2’H) side by side. These are all brandies and cognac. As you move into the room, you all hear a sound. It is loud, and distinctly snoring like. After a few moments of looking around, you realize that the snoring is coming from within one of the large casks in the centre of the room. You don’t need a rogue to detect the cask in question has a removable side lid.

Alôndas wasn’t surprised when they found the next room full of spirits; he only looked around and wondered at how long it took to acquire such a collection, some of them must be quite old and therefore possibly quite valuable and tasty. He might be tempted later to come back and investigate the ‘vintage’ of some of the libations amassed here.

Moving on upwards to the next room, where they once again found another room of spirits but with another portal as well as stairs. Before they could really begin their examination of this room though, they heard a ‘snoring’ sound. It did indeed sound like snoring; he silently wondered if they had stumbled upon a sleeping dwarf somewhere. He didn’t know why but he would imagine it would be very hard to get a dwarf, with their love of drinking, to leave these rooms of bountiful spirits.

Locating where the snoring seemed to be coming from, Alôndas slowly moved up to the large cask from where it sounded as if it were coming. Peering over the top, it shouldn’t be hard at his height, he looked for the source of the noise. He was cautious though, his stave still held at the ready just in case it was another of those Ninja-like guards, though he doubted they drank or snored.

Dudley went with the others as they moved up the stairs through a couple of floors of more bottles. Nothing eventful occurs as they trudge on. Arriving at the second floor they hear snoring and the mage Alôndas moves to a cask in the center of the room.

"Oh how lucky, perhaps that slumbering person can help direct us out," Dudley mutters.

Moving to the cask Dudley pulls the end lid off to see who is inside.

Dudley removes the lid to the cask as Alôndas looked it over the top. Inside, the cask was empty except for a large orange cat curled up at the bottom, snoring away. Except this cat was very large, and had a red shirt, brown vest and was wearing trousers with boots. It had no weapons on it that you could see but it was the oddest cat you had ever seen.

As you look down, it rolls over in its sleep and then opens its eyes.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! By the gods you be ugly creatures!” the cat shrieks and jumps straight out of the cask to land on top the cask beside this one. Suddenly it becomes aware that everyone is staring at it as it standing on the cask at 2 feet tall on its hind legs.

Quickly the cat drops to all four and says, “Umm. Meow. Meow. Meow.”

Wembley's jumped back as the cat jumped out of the barrel. But when the fur ball stood on its hind legs and began to talk... well, Wembley's jaw fall near past his knees.

"The cats in Bayris never did that," he whispered in awe. The halfling looked around at his companions to see if they had seen the same thing. The magical cat tried to cover with a quick drop to all fours and a meow-meow.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Wembley said, lunging to scoop up the cat with a head fake left, but grabbing right. "You can't go around standing on your hind paws and called us ugly one minute, and then give us a little meow-meow and think we're just going let you go like that. No way! Not a little cute kitty like you. Come here, kitty! Come here! Come on!"

OOC: Wembley's trying to catch the cat.

Mal moved with the rest of the group up the stairs, Saber held at the ready, and knees slightly bent, fully expecting a full scale ambush. But there was only more bottles, more booze. But on the next floor, the snoring sound immediately set him on edge. He didn't know why, but he felt at this point that anything at all in this place was a danger to them all.

However, when the Syl and Wembley moved forward to investigate, he made no move to stop them. Best to wait and see, lest he receive a whack to the face again.

But of all the evil, vile, disgusting creatures he expected to jump out as the lid was removed, the truth simply caused his sword to droop, and his eyes to bulge. It was a cat. A cat in clothes. A TALKING cat in clothes.

"What in the nine hells....." The Swashbuckler murmured as it dropped to all fours and meowed. Had he imagined it? No, no, he hadn't, for little Wembley saw it too, and moved to capture the feline.

Too in awe and much too confused, Mal simply watched the events before him unfold, unsure what to do, if do anything at all. After all, what possible harm could this ...... thing cause? Besides a few minor scratches and a nasty hairball, or course......

As the Cidal attempted to catch the cat, it made a very feline noise of fright and leaped up to the top of the highest wine rack.

"Hey! That is very uncool dude! I don't do violence! Got me? Cathartic or otherwise so keep you paws to yourself. I'll come down if you promise to be cool."

(Assuming an agreement)

"Name is Ivan. I'm a singer, songwriter and a bit of a Presti ... Prestid ... a magician." The cat says while reaching into his pocket, pulling out some dried weeds and a strip of paper and starting to roll a crude cigarette. He licked the edge to seal it, "Where did you dudes come from? " He asks as his makeshift joint lights itself and he takes a deep drag of the smoke before offering it to the party, "Nip?"

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! By the gods you be ugly creatures! Umm. Meow. Meow. Meow.”

To say the least for Crow a cat jumping out of a cask talking in common was by far quite unexpected. Not even having time to raise the bow in his hands, Wembley was already attempting to capture the feline with no success.

"Hey! That is very uncool dude! I don't do violence! Got me? Cathartic or otherwise so keep you paws to yourself. I'll come down if you promise to be cool. Name is Ivan. I'm a singer, songwriter and a bit of a Presti ... Prestid ... a magician." The cat said while reaching into his pocket, pulling out some dried weeds and a strip of paper and starting to roll a crude cigarette. He licked the edge to seal it, "Where did you dudes come from? " He asks as his makeshift joint lights itself and he takes a deep drag of the smoke before offering it to the party, "Nip?"

Deciding to try and make fast friends of the cat so as to gain an ally within these walls Crow moved forward.

“Yes Master Ivan I think I will” Crow with a smile took the joint from the cats outstretched paw and took a deep toke........

Dudley was amused by the events of Wembly trying to catch the cat and Crow deciding to mooch a Bogart.

“How lucky for us the meet such a fine character…..and talented too. We were cast away on this island then portaled into this dwelling. Perhaps you know enough magic to help us exit safely to a location where we might acquire passage to Portua?”

Wembley stood back as the cat rebuke him. "My apologies, Sir Paws."

The Cidal continued to watch the cit in wide-eyed wonder as it spoke in a well-mannered way to their party all while rolling his own tobacco stick... except it wasn't leaf, but nip... something the cidal had never heard of before.

Crow took some of the offered "nip" while Wembley watched to see what would happen. He wasn't suprrised that the elf had accepted the cat's offer. The two shared some similar qualities. Wembley smiled as his thought, I wonder if the cat would become Crow's familiar. That would be an interesting duo.
The little rogue was about to ask for some too, when his kin piped with with brisk wisdom that he most definitely got from his Stump side.

Passage to Portua? Wembley thought. Oh, my common sensical kin, you need to learn to love each moment you find yourself in!
Piping into the conversation, Wembley added, "Perhaps, you might come with us?"

Mal continued to stare, silent and wide eyed. Nothing about this made a lick of sense to his usually rational mind. Was this a dream? Had the stick wielding man in black actually knocked him unconscious? Was this even happening?

Something told the Swashbuckler he wasn't dreaming, but he still could not manage to come to terms with what he saw. Unless.... Was this a creation of the wizard Alan had spoke of? Perhaps a poor innocent bard that had also wound up here, and was twisted and reformed to amuse an old mad man?

Everyone else seemed so accepting of this strange event, taking it at face value.... But something evil was afoot here. Something not at all right.....
Well, he would have no part in it. Crow was the test mouse now. If the strange weeds he inhaled turned him into a cat as well, Then Mal would strike hard and true. After all, it wouldnt be the first cat he had beheaded since he had arrived on this cursed Island.......

But what if Crow didn't change? Could this be a potential ally to the party? Mal still doubted it. The loquacious furball seemed quite content with his current lot in life. Another thing that made Mal suspicious.....