"State your business!"

At the sound of the guard, Rae absently checked her headband. Still in the place she left it, covering the tips of her ears. Good.

Rae nodded as Blair gave his answer, and in addendum she also spoke, to perhaps ail the fears of the guard of the gate, "We have travelled from the west for a few days now, though we are armed, it is for our own protection. The roads in the fog have not been kind."

As they pass by, Rae pauses as they close the palisade behind them, "There are creatures of ill intent within the fog. I know that it is a dull task, but be alert."

Rae took note of their surroundings as they entered the town. Very human, in a sense, simplified to be its most practical. There was a lack of green, living decorum, but that also served the guards well, providing vision down the streets un-obscured by leaf or branch if not for the fog. Perhaps that would also serve them, if it were needed.

The heavy silence in the air weighed down on Rae's shoulders. She couldn't shake the feeling, the sense of something amiss.

* * * At the Inn * * *

Now this was more familiar. There was still a sense of tension in the atmosphere, but whether from the sense of being amidst strangers, new faces in who knows how long, or something malign in the place was difficult to decipher. Still, there was a sense of people. It broke the silence, in spite of the conversation dying down upon their entry, and for that Rae was grateful. It was a reprieve to a scene that she herself was very familiar with, in perhaps less well known parts of towns.

"I'll have some stew and bread, please, and some watered beer to drink." Rae provided for the barmaid, giving a gentle smile.

As she ate, she listened carefully to Blair and the other travellers.

She nodded in agreement with Danon, "Given the atmosphere, I'd say that to them, we're the strangest part of things that have happened today."

As Rae finished her food, she paused a moment, "Does that mean that we've all arrived here only today?" She asks of Davena.

As Rae finishes her food, she pauses a moment, "Does that mean that we've all arrived here only today?" she asks of Davena.

For several moments, the query goes unnoticed; the blonde woman is deep in conversation (and even deeper glances) with Danon. Garn the bodyguard clears his throat audibly; when Davena glances up, he cuts his eyes meaningfully at Rae. The woman visibly blushes as she realizes that she is ignoring the table conversation.

"Er, ahem, I mean..." she stammers for a moment, obviously flustered. Tearing her gaze away from Danon, she fixes it on the shield maiden. "Indeed," she answers, "we had been seated only a few minutes before you and your companions. Our journey is east, toward Tenimere and some commercial concerns there."

Davena straightens, picks at her food a bit, and takes part in the small talk... though soon enough, her attention is once again focused on the priest of Merca, where she seems to very nearly hang on his every word. Garn, for his part, seems none too happy about the development (judging by the scowl on his face).

En'Aranthea befriends the serving wench (whose name is Nya) over the course of the evening. The bladesinger learns that the unusual fog has rolled in each evening for the past five days, and that the roads have become more hazardous since this started (while she cannot recall names, the serving wench is certain that a couple of people have gone missing). Most of the townfolk have made it a point to stay within the walls; even some of the salty farmerfolk (who are typically only seen at harvest time, when they come to sell their crops) have taken refuge in the town tonight.

Apparently, tales of strange noises are quite common, and as she warms to her audience, Nya points out an older man. "Cap there," she gestures, "says there were some kinds of monster down by Miller's Point."

However, it does seem that Nya lacks much in the way of concrete facts; the best she can do is repeat rumors and travelers' tales.

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

Meanwhile, Davena and Danon get friendlier and friendlier. She seems deeply interested in discussing theology, though not in a confrontational manner; she shows genuine respect for what the priest has to say, though she offers quite a few insightful points of her own. Despite the spiritual nature of her conversation, however, the blonde woman's body language continues to show more and more physical interest in Danon.

Eventually, Davena kills her glass of wine - her fourth(?) of the evening - before placing her soft, warm hand atop Danon's. "I have some texts in my room," she speaks, double meaning doing a poor job of hiding between every word, "and I would like your thoughts on them. Perhaps, brother Danon, I could persuade you to come and give them a detailed inspection?"

As well spoken as she is, the woman likely does have some sort of religious texts in her room, but even the most obtuse can recognize the actual invitation being offered.

Danon was thankful that Davena allowed their conversation to shift focus away from her personal questions; while perfectly reasonable queries, the young priest never saw fit to dwell too much upon himself in conversation. Rather, Danon happily recounted the values of Merca's faith, the importance of duty and honor in daily lives, and the significane of following through with choices made. Allowing himself another tankard of ale, Danon went on to describe the distinction between the three orders of Merca's faithful and, to the extent of Danon's knowledge, the extent at which the orders interacted with each other and the faithful of Rydor, Lysora and Falloes. To Danon's immense pleasure, Davena's vivid interest in the range of theological interpretations, combined with intelligent insights her a marvelous conversation companion; she may have even guessed the order Danon identified with, based upon his rambling comments.

Eventually, Davena kills her glass of wine -perhaps her fourth of the evening, as Danon hadn't been counting - before placing her soft, warm hand atop his. "I have some texts in my room," she speaks, double meaning doing a poor job of hiding between every word, "and I would like your thoughts on them. Perhaps, brother Danon, I could persuade you to come and give them a detailed inspection?"

"Davena," he began, smiling profoundly despite a sharp sting in both his temples "it would be my pleasure."

A sly smile spreads across the blonde woman's face as she takes Danon's hand and stands. She looks around the table. "If you will excuse us," she speaks.

Davena and Danon take a few steps before Garn catches up to them. The couple stops, and the woman shakes her head slightly. The bodyguard leans in close, a fierce expression on his face, and he whispers something to her.

Davena's blue eyes flash with fiery anger, and she hisses a retort easily loud enough for everyone to hear. "Mind your place, Garn Kargest! Who I share my bed with is my business, and no one else's! Leave me now!"

Garn's shoulders slump and his cheeks burn crimson. The warrior spins on his heel, ignores the others at the table, and stalks off toward the bar in apparent search of something stronger than ale.

As he leaves, the blond woman's cheeks color slightly with embarrassment, but the anger evaporates as she flashes a sheepish smile to the table. Then, she and Danon head toward the stair, hand in hand.

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

Upstairs, Davena leads the priest of Merca into her room and closes the door. She turns to face him and cocks her head to one side. "As for the texts... I would love to peruse these with you, but there are other matters I would rather attend to first."

With that, most of her clothing falls to the ground.

She takes a step towards the priest, a crooked grin on her face. The term "exquisite" would not be out of place when describing her body, though a portion of Danon's brain does idly note that the silvered scars from her face continue down her neck, across her chest, and down to her belly; however, the scars easily appear in their greatest concentration upon both of her breasts, centered around the nipples. It is clear that some years ago, this beautiful creature must have endured some sort of unspeakable torture. Be that as it may, she seems to not be self conscious in the slightest; she stands straight and tall, her natural assets proudly on display as her gaze fixes the priest.

As the rest of her clothing falls to the ground and she advances further, Danon discovers that most of the blood seems to have been diverted from his brain, causing deep analysis to become impossible. His own clothing falls away, her warm, soft body embraces him, and for a time, conscious thought becomes astoundingly unimportant.

The evening wears on, and the food, alcohol, and conversation take their toll. Eventually, you ask Nya about rooms, and come up with prices. A room is rented for the two ladies, and another for the three gentlemen (Danon being otherwise occupied and apparently not in need of a room). Nya is not particularly receptive to any attempted haggling - she may not have the authority to haggle rates - though the prices are fair; a few falchions change hands, and the rooms are rented.

The beds are merely straw pallets for unrolling bedrolls upon, but these are vastly more comfortable than some rocky forest floor. Normal evening rituals and care of gear is handled, and you all turn in for the night.

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

12th Sempore (Fallday), 453 E.R.
The Nicked Shill Inn, village of Crandel
An hour or two after midnight, En'Aranthea is awoken by a banging noise from downstairs. Less than a minute later, Blair - in the other room - is awoken by the same. Then, there is a scream.

The others quickly awake. There are fearful voices downstairs, and the banging continues - as if someone is trying to force their way into the inn.

Danon is the last to awake - naked and alone in his room. There is no sign of Davena or her gear - or of Garn, for that matter.

[slight backpost to fill in details]

Seeing that the conversation was rather side tracked, Rae finished her meal and walked over to where Nya and En'Aranthea were talking.

"How much would it be to rent a room for the evening?" Rae asked Nya.

After negotiating for the price of the room, Rae paid for the room to be shared by both her and En'Aranthea. She didn't feel particularly keen on intruding on the other patrons, with the tension still in the atmosphere, so opted to be prepared for whatever the morning or night may bring.

[commotion!]

Rae awoke with a start, nearly jumping out of her bedroll. She was no stranger to tavern or inn brawls, but the sounds coming from downstairs were not chaotic enough to be attributed as a brawl. Reaching to the side, she pulled her hair back, drawing her hairband over the tips of her ears and bringing her hair out of her eyes.

Reaching for her armour, she saw En'Aranthea also awake, "Please help me."

((Rae will also help En'Aranthea with her armour as well so they can be combat ready as quick as they can, unless En'Aranthea opts not to don armour. She wants to be ready before they go downstairs since they don't know what's going on))

Danon stirred as a loud bang resounded in the distance; some portal far away from his own door had been assaulted.

Too early for the morning drills, he thought, groaning as he rolled over in his bed. much too early.
Justicars, the warrior-judges of Rydor and Merca, had come to the temple two days before. Renowned for their skill and discipline, each morning since their arrival the Justicars had commenced in drills of physical endurance -marching formations, combat manuevers, and the like- before proceeding to a breakfast rife with formal debate to maintain mental asuteness. In consideration of the Justicars' reputation, all temple wards, and preists-in-training, such as Danon, who sought a future among the Justicars were to attend the drills; equal part motivation and detterant. Nonetheless, the drills were not to take place until dawn, and, as Danon had certainly retired just a few hours prior so that he might participate in the drill, the loud bang was certainly something else.

Another bang resounded in the distance, closer now but still far away from his door; perhaps as close as the end of the cooridor. This time however it was followed by some unclear, high-pitched sound, a sound that sent a chill down Danon's spine. Determined that the sound was nothing to concern himself with, the temple ward reached across his empty bed and pulled the linens around himself.

Empty, Danon found himself noting. but, why does that feel amiss? It was normal that he would sleep alone among the place of his youth, and yet Danon felt this evening's solitude out of place. He shivered again trying to piece it all together Why too am I so col- Danon registered his lack of underclothes before the question formed in his mind. Never had he slept as such in the temple Danon called home.

Danon shut his eyes tight as the banging sounds continued to draw nearer, trying to remember himself, trying to dispel the dream which gripped him.

The banging resounded against his doorway.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Danon's eyes snapped open as he re-entered the world of consciousness.

"Trouble," he murmured as the resounding banging noises from below, and what he could make of the voices through the walls, told him all he needed to know. A scan of the room confirmed that he was indeed alone. Where Davena, and Garn for that matter, had gone were beyond the young priest. Perhaps the bodyguard had discerned trouble and hurried Davena to safety; perhaps Danon had imparied himself to the point where he had not been privy to earlier signs of trouble. Regardless he needed to act, now; if people were in danger he would do what he could to protect them, no matter the odds.

Quickly he rose to gather his equipment, trying to fight the numbness of his evening with shear force of will. Cladding himself in his armour and resecuring his mace upon his belt Danon moved to the open the door, pausing only to ensure his holy symbol of Merca was at the ready. He may not have been a Justicar, but Danon would prove his mettle.

((OOC: So, hurriedly getting ready for any dangers and proceed directly downstairs. Luckily, after looking it up, chainmail is a quicker armour to don, so it shouldn't take too too long to prepare unaided. Danon is of the assumption he has already been slow to react, thus he is not seeking out his companions (who have likely reacted), and is proceeding at however quick a pace he can muster given the night he has had))

12th Sempore (Fallday), 453 E.R.
The Nicked Shill Inn, village of Crandel
Galardil made his way to his room and selected the straw pallet closest to the far wall, allowing the Half Syl Cleric of Kith-jora the opportunity for the next hour to face the wall, bowing upon his bedroll in prayers to his deity, preparing himself for whatever the morrow may bring.

Satisfied that he had spent enough time to reenergize his spells, plus recuperate from the battle and weary travel of the day, the Cleric of Kith-jora undressed and passed out in a deep slumber inside his bedroll upon the straw pallet.

An hour or two after midnight, En'Aranthea is awoken by a banging noise from downstairs. Less than a minute later, Blair - in the other room - is awoken by the same. Then, there is a scream.

The others quickly awake. There are fearful voices downstairs, and the banging continues - as if someone is trying to force their way into the inn.
Now who could that be knock knock knocking at our door at this hour of the night?
Galardil stirred in his deep sleep, a bit oblivious as to where he actually was!

Soon the fearful voices, combined with the persistent sounds of a door being battered mercilessly, drew the Half Syl from his deep slumber, back to his present location at The Nicked Shill in the village of Crandel as he sat upright from his deep sleep!

Galardil did not panic, as he reached for his clothes and began dressing with methodical determination!

Once he had secured his Leather Armor underneath his Elven War Tunic, the Cleric of Kith-jora secured his weapons and made his way out of his room, breathing a Prayer of Clarity to clear his senses from his all too brief deep sleep, as he made his way towards the fearful voices and clamoring din of the incessant battering upon the inn door!

(((Galardil has his Khord War Club at the ready, but chooses to survey the scene below the stairs, before blindly running headlong into this unknown situation; especially noting how his comrades have chosen to respond to this unexpected situation!)))

Jarenion woke to the sounds of banging and a scream. The scream yanked him awake in an instant. His first thought was of the cleric - what had Danon gotten himself into? Going off alone, well not quite alone - and that was the point! - could make for some very enticing times, but also grave danger. "Never split the party!" was an ancient bit of wisdom that had been pounded into his head, but somehow it just didn't work when night time trysts were involved and blood wasn't flowing to people's heads. "Damn! What did that cleric get himself into?"

But even as the thought sped across his mind, the mage realized that the cleric was likely not to blame for this intrusion. The noise and cry had come from downstairs and he didn't think it had sounded liked Danon. But whatever it was, it could clearly not be ignored.

Jarenion hated acting without the others - it was rarely wise for anyone, and almost certainly unwise for a mage, to charge ahead while the warriors donned their armor. But since he did not need to don armor, he was always the quickest to prepare in such situations. And so after jumping up from his straw pallet, Jarenion made sure the others were up and offered an extra hand if needed. Being the first to prepare, he moved to the door where he paused and listened. If he heard nothing directly outside, he opened the door to try and better hear what was happening downstairs.

(((Jarenion gets up and grabs anything he might need. Assuming there isn't much he can do to assist others, he listens at the door and then opens it a crack. If it seems reasonable and the others are almost ready, he would move to the top of the stairs, but NOT down them. He wants information, but not to expose himself without the aid of the others.)))