Members of the traveling band had interjected themselves in different ways, but all, it seemed, with the intent of either stopping or lessening the damage to the extablishment that appeared about to take place. Then Motolov explained the gist of his exchange with the Krosan It seemed to be a matter of the diminutive warrior defending his honor, or the honor of his clan. Well, then, another bit of information about the race was shown to be true.

At that brief explanation, all the others, save Motolov, backed off for their own various reasons or justifications. Reuben and Gunther began to move furniture out of the way to prevent damage that would eventually cost the innkeeper. Motolov gained a table-top and announced that he would "referee" the encounter in the name of his temple and diety, explaining that the Krosan would accept only that much, and no more, and only from his own kind.

Frantically low-voicing his interpretation of the ensuing event, Lorin was surprised at both the brevity and the ferocity of the Krosan's skills as a warrior. It was almost anti-climactic -- almost. But the short skirmish did have a series of after-effects.

Motolov invited the Krosan, whose name was still an unknown, to camp with him outside the Inn, for reasons unfathomable to Lorin, as yet. The Krosan agreed to meet with him outside the town's boundary. Lorin would have loved to be a bug on a rock listening to that meeting! Howver, Lorin wass not fool enough to believe that his presence would be allowed or accepted.

Then the innkeeper ordered the rest of the party out of his inn, and seemed not to heed any claims to be innocent stander-bys just arriving as the altercation began. Lorin was taken a bit aback when the innkeeper called Gunther by name and mentioned past association. Lorin knew they hadn't stayed here on the trip into Veythor, so this mention was from some previous interaction between the two.

Lorin also noted that Gunther, as yet, had not defended his own innocence or that of the rest of the traveling companions, although some of them attempted to do so. Internally, Lorin warred with the desire to persuade the innkeeper to allow them to say, and the realization that his knowledge and expertise in this matters of this kind were severly lacking. He opted for the wiser of the available choices and kept silent -- at least for this portion of their evening ...

But the impending loss of a night's rest in a comfortable bed loomed heavy in his thoughts.

Arinna could not believe the injustice of the man orders for them all to leave the inn.

She was standing right there near the innkeeper and turned to him.

"Pardon me but none of us, those who can in with Gunther, took part in what happened here. It is wrong of you to say to say so. The dwarf, who was a guest in your inn was foully insulted by other guests of yours. To blame us who just recently arrived for what happened here is itself an injustice."

"The ones you should blame lay on the floor and have been dealt with. We can help you throw them out where they belong, outside."

"You should reconsider your hasty words said in the heat of the moment. You will lose a lot of customers if you don't.

    After his exchange with the Krosan and nodding when the Krosan agreed to meet Moto at the outskirts of the town, Moto turned to Gunther and the others.

    "For one like him to venture out into territory populated by those he purports to despise shows, to me, a singular purpose of importance to him. I will meet and camp with him at the town's boundary. I think it's best, for now, to limit his contact with the others until I, or we, can prove mutual benefits. Perhaps I could persuade him to join his purpose and our own, to a mutual benefit. His skills as a warrior would aid our cause greatly and our own numbers might increase the success of his particular quest, whatever it is."

    "I will meet you on the morrow, hopefully with good news. 'Til then, I'll wish the rest of you luck in your endeavors to obtain lodging."

    Moto exits the Inn and glances right and left. Seeng the retreatng back of the Krosan, Moto turns to follow, glancing about as he walks to find and pick up small pieces of boards, wood sticks, any small- to medium-sized pieces of wood that could be used for a small fire.

[[ He'll not worry about tinder. He intends to start a fire using tindertwig to torch to wood. A little overkill in firestarting, but almost certain to start a fire with a minimum of effort. When he feels he has gathered enough for a fire without severely limiting his movement, he'll cease gathering and continue to wherever the Krosan stops. There, he'll start a fire, banked against any breeze or wind. He'll speak while setting the fire. ]]

    "Brother, my name is Moto. Motolov Cogsnail of the Granitespire Clan. I am a worhipper and would-be priest of the Mighty Atlam. The companions I travel with are on a quest to find a well known and respected explorer of importance and reknown who had disappeard under mysterious circumstances and, hopefully, return him to the world. I have no doubt that yu know of the star-fall and the odd things occurring since that event. Surely you don't blame the other races for the fall of a heavenly body. They would be as responsible for it as you or I would, if it were possible."

    "I admit to curiosity as to your solitary presence in a place such as this. What you deign to tell me is what you wish to divulge. No more, no less. I will ask no questions. But I believe that I can go so far as to offer you our aid. To join your quest with our own, for a mutual benefit."

    Moto chuckles softly. "I apologize. The presence of another of my own kind brings out the talkative part of me. Some find it a little irritating."

Rideygo 30th, 413.
Three months after Starfall.
Old Kerrn Road/ Evis Nollan, Veythor
Eric was very nearly beyond reason in his efforts to expel those who would either cause trouble, or do not to deter it, from his inn. His thin, aged face was red with frustration, despite probably being terrified that the Krosan would turn its attention upon him next. Fortunately for him, though, it didn’t come to that, as the dwarf said something in its native language to Moto before stalking out with his belongings, kicking the door open in on his exit to allow a cool gust of wind to sweep in momentarily. Moto, pardoning himself politely from his travel companions, followed him out into the chill night air.

And though the air about him began to settle just slightly after the leaving of that ruffian, the innkeeper seemed reluctant to allow these folks to stay here for the night, despite the pleas and bargaining attempts of those who remained. His eyes were constantly on Gunther, judging and criticizing the man silently. Lorin, having traveled with his village-mate on the way here, knew that they hadn’t stayed the night in this particular inn, and thus, wondered where Gunther and Eric might have known each other previously, and what the Gano might have done to earn the proprietor’s mistrust. He remained silent, though, seeing how this would pan out for them.

A voice, and a clapping of hands, sounded from the stairs, and all heads turned to see a strange man descend, declaring his admiration for the brawling dwarf. He introduced himself as Gunthor, which drew a quick double-take from a few of the travelers, looking back between the Gano and the Syln of the same name. Offering up a room, and the willingness to help in the cleanup, Eric muttered something about being unable to decline an invitation to help tidy up this mess. The newcomer nodded, and moved to reorganize the common room, while Arianna set herself to work dragging the beaten thugs from the establishment, tossing them out onto the cold earth a few paces away from the door.

But even with this assistance, Eric still seemed reluctant to allow Gunther to stay here. This seeming contempt from previous days was not making things easy on either the Gano or his group. Eric simply would not have them stay. It was Reuben who changed his mind, stepping forth from cleaning up the shattered chair and clutching a roll of parchment in his hand. He unfurled it as his gallant form reached the counter.

“Good sir, our journey does not bring us to lend to trouble in any form, but our mission is that of a dire cause. I have been dispatched by the Temple of Liris to assist in the location and rescue of a certain individual of great importance.” His strong voice caught the attention of the innkeeper, who seemed quite small before the knight. “This letter is proof of my cause, and while my companions do not share the same goals in the name of the church, I ask that you honour their own, and grant us lodging for the night.”

This drew a moment of silence from Eric, who seemed to turn the idea over in his head before finally nodding.

“All right.” He grumbled, reaching below the counter and drawing out a handful of brass keys. “I can’t say no to the church, for all they’ve done for the good folks around here.”

Sighing, Eric ran a hand through his thinning hair while Reuben rolled up his letter and returned it to its holding place. “Just please do me one favour and be out by sun-up?”

He was met with no protest, and with a wave of his hand, he dismissed the group, walking with a quite-noticeable limp around the bar to start tidying up his damaged common room. “I can’t in my right conscience have you staying out there in these times, anyway… Not with what lives out in the cold…” The old man grumbled, producing a rag to start wiping the blood off of the upturned table that started this whole ordeal.

***

The cool, brisk air made both the dwarves shiver for a moment as they stepped out into the night, but the feeling of tension was immediately lifted upon exiting the inn. Throndrirr simply stalked away, headed for the western edge of the small town towards a small hill that would serve as a windbreak if they camped on the other side of it, while Moto followed in his wake, collecting an armload of deadfall from the sparse trees that littered the field between Evis Nollan and the hill. By the time they reached the small mound, the Duskarn had assembled a good armload of kindling, as well as a few thicker boughs that would be ideal for longer-burning fuel.

Something felt strange about this mound, something that both dwarves could detect. A survey of it from their keen eyes showed that a number of patches of earth had been dug away and resettled, causing the grass atop it to grow in small clusters of an unhealthy state. Perhaps good for hiding something from a quick glance, but to those who had the art of digging and mining ingrained in their genetics, it was clear that somebody had done a slipshod job of concealing whatever lay within that pile of dirt and rocks.

But, despite the strange feeling just beneath the skin that their site presented, it was ideal in every other regard. It would buffer the breeze, and kept them out of sight of the town, in case anybody sought reprisal while they slept. The light of a fire would be concealed, as well, meaning that when they wished to be found, it’d be on their terms. It was important to keep any further confrontation between the villagers and Throndrirr to a minimum.

Dropping the wood to a dry patch of earth, Moto set down his gear and knelt beside it, producing one of those strange tindertwigs and striking it to flame. Within moments, by carefully picking the thinnest pieces of his collection, he had a small, comfortable fire going that produced enough warmth for the two of them.

That taken care of, Moto then presented his offer to the dwarf, who now, being away from the presence of humans, and among that of his kindred – however removed from his own, perhaps would be more reasonable than earlier. But, that was up to the Krosan.

(OOC: The Inn Party: Eric has finally allowed lodging. He’s given up four keys in response to Reuben’s letter of sponsorship, and has not asked for any form of payment beyond leaving as early as possible. The rooms are simple, with a shuttered window (Already closed), a small dresser, and a single bed with a straw-stuffed mattress.

The Dwarves: The hill you’ve opted for is about two hundred yards to the west of Evis Nollan, and you’ve camped on the western side of it. There are a few sparse trees around your campsite, and to the north lies the shadow of a much larger forest that spreads far to the west. You’ve got enough firewood to last you all night. Continue dialogue as you wish.)

Arianna walks up and takes the key from the innkeeper. "I thank you for you reconsideration. I would not have liked to spend the night out there. However I have one favor to ask. Is there anything you have left over from dinner that is hot and ready to eat. None of us has had any dinner at all we pushed ourselves hard to get here and did not stop to eat. Anything at all would be appreciated. If you have some soup or stew,or even bread and cheese it would be much appreciated. WE can just take it and est in our rooms."

Arianna uses all her wiles and talents to persuade the innkeeper to be a do at least this for those whos stayed in the inn.

After he responds she walks up to Liriel. "How about we share a room. Two can stay warmer than one especially if there is no fireplace in the rooms.

Arianna was unfamiliar with human inns and their amenities, She had sleep in less comfortable places though, during her life as a ranger. Were she not so cold and hungry she would have gone with the dwarves or found a place for herself outside. But she was both of those.

To help calm things, and maybe put the innkeeper into a better frame of mind. She unwraps her harp and tunes it quickly. As she tunes it Arainna come over and asks her to share a room.

"Fine with me."

Then Liriel moves towards the fire, sits on a chair and begins to play the harp and sing. She purposefully choose a calming song and used her bardic skill to return peace to the inn.

As Rueban rolled up the Letter of Sponsorship, he turned and nodded slowly towards his companions, taking only a single key, and leaving the three others on the barstool behind him for his colleagues to deal out amongst themselves.

To the innkeepers request, Reuban replied without turning. "We'll be gone with the clearing of the dishes from breakfast, that with their cleansing so shall you be rid of us, though all the same you have my sincerest gratitude."

Turning to the others. "Get some rest, Gunther, prepare to set out before the sun's rays have fully stirred the lark from her slumber." With that, Reuban turned and headed towards his room, glancing at the small number imprinted in the head of the simple key.

Once alone in the solitude and peaceful silence of his quarters for the evening, Reuban finally removed his armor, piece by piece with a loving touch. His cloak was folded neatly and placed atop a simple table by the door, while his breastplate was sat upon the wash basin. With a stretch of his now unhindered muscles Reuban went to his pack, and removed some of the basic armor maintenance supplies his old friend had gifted him with.

With loving care he oiled and polished his armor, all the while humming the music to one of his favourite childhood gospel's heard every sunday at church for most of his life. There was something profoundly self cleansing in the simple act of maintaining his armor, as though to clear the dirt and grit of the road, or from time to time blood of combat was like a shower for the soul, and as the tempered steel shone with renewed luster, Reuban always felt as though his own heart beat just that much stronger as Liris' emblem stared back at him.

"This will be a trying journey Mother;" he said to knowone in particular. "May I have the vigilance to watch over my flock of wayward sheep as you have watched over me. I trust their hearts are set on the right path, even if that path is not one of enlightenment. Perhaps with enough time, I may show them the glory of your ways, and have the voice of that bardess singing your praise."

With a smile at that thought Reuban rose, moving over to the bed where he stripped down, allowing cool sheets to caress warm flesh. Placing his sword sheath against the bedframe within arms reach, and a dagger beneath the pillow as a common bedtime practice, Reuban drifted into slumber with thoughts of glory, adventure, and perhaps one of his travelling companions to ease his way into dream.