Immersive Ink

Wen would smile at Demond and Mondes before excusing himself, "it is time to dream, until tomorrow my friends."

Highbough takes advantage of all the fuss over the blind two-headed what-have-you to slip unnoticed from the Council Chamber. He would stick close to Wen and trust the younger Elf to take the lead in any social interactions with the Woodlanders. He would not go out of his way to be rude, but otherwise avoids drawing attention to himself. As soon as he reaches the bed set aside for him, he falls into a deep sleep lasting 1 "town turn" or until awakened.

Much like Dieter, Dorgan fears what will happen if he imbibes too much wine, or eats too heartily of rich food, while in his near-starving state. He will stick as much as possible to water, fruit, and bread.

The weariness soon overwhelms him, and at the first possible moment once his belly is full, he inquires as to the location of a place to rest.

waysoftheearth wrote:"And you are a curious pair of creatures," Gallaine says to Desmond/Mondes, "Melui, come return to them their rightful sight." and another of the Elvish noblewomen approaches Desmond/Mondes and, placing her pale hands over his sightless eyes (one pair, then the other), sings a soft but eerie hymm.... and LO! Desmond/Mondes' sight is returned!

And what a glorious sight he beholds!

"It's Elfs," snorts Mondes, and belches.

Desmond's grin stretches from ear to ear as he opens his eyes and takes in his surroundings for the first time in several days. He lets out with a quick, "Yip!" of excitement as he looks around the elven encampment. Then he glances to the right and sees Mondes' surly mug and sighs. "Ah, well... At least that's one curse out of the way, then..."

He looks forward, finally, and notices Lady Gallaine. He bows his head, knocking Mondes on the noggin in the process, to get him to follow, and holds it for a moment. "Thank you for the gift, fair lady! I have never been aflicted with such a malady before and I hope to forever avoid it in the future!"

After another bow he tries to stifle a yawn and offers an apology, "It's been a long time since I've had a good sleep, I'm afraid. And I probably won't make it much longer before passing out into my," he looks down, "ummm... it looks like some sort of gruel, though it tastes much more devine..."

Desmond sighs deeply, scoots the bowl to its side, and lays his heads down in his arms and falls into a deep sleep...

Olaf is keeping quiet, just taking everything in with his keen eyes. Olaf is in no little awe of the Elves and their village. He'll eat, but try to stay to water for his drink. What he would like, once his belly is full, is a good night's sleep. Tomorrow will be soon enough for talk and plans.

Armando awakes groggily to a fugue, with vague memories of strange and vivid dreams swirling through his consciousness. He is startled and profoundly confused to find himself lying on the floor of some sort of leafy, living great hall, surrounded by various of his companions, a complement of elves, lively conversation, and ... Food! Such plentiful food!

Standing quickly, Armando brushes himself off, gives a twist to his moustaches and, as nonchalantly as possible, assumes a seat next to his afflicted hobbit friend, er friends, who appear to have conclusively overindulged. Armando endeavors to do likewise, grabbing the nearest flagon of wine and pulling close a platter of roast fowl. He joins in the talk to the extent his appetite allows.

After a time, his immediate needs satisfied, Armando engages the elves more sincerely, asking candidly of their present whereabouts and how he came to be there. Understanding that many of his companions have retired for much-needed rest, but feeling quite refreshed himself (though now somewhat in his cups), he teeters off to have a quick look around ...

Beringar's world has been turned on its head. From being turned into a giant monstrosity, to food poisoning, to suddenly waking up in an elven hold... It is too much for the poor sod. While slowly adjusting to the situation, he'll quietly partake in the dining, wary of offending his hosts. He will loosen up a bit as time passes, and will attempt to introduce himself properly to the Company, as well as the elves, and thank them both for taking him in. In fact, he'll offer the two uncured leveret pelts to the Warder of Southchase as a sign of his gratitude!

Torben

Torben groans as he rolls himself up off the floor. He opens his eyes and moves to speak, but his mouth hangs wordlessly open a moment. 'I've died, haven't I?'

As the company's laughter dies down, he sheepishly takes a seat at the table and gives a nod of introduction. He picks slowly at his first plate, but cleans the second. He listens to conversation at the table and speaks only when spoken to. Though, with each passing glass of wine he becomes more open and honest.

Southwatch

With their hunger sated and thirst slaked, the exhausted company stagger off--led by the elves--to an adjacent barracks which has been made available to them. Here they shed their soiled packs, boots, and armor and tumble into beds and a deep, deep sleep.

Guntram, Beringar, Torben, and Armando remain awake (having slept half a day already).

Beringar offers Gallaine the two hare pelts he was intending to cure and sell Reaction check 2d6=7 which she accepts with a curious half-smile. "I thank you, good Beringar," she says, but has one of her people take the pelts away.

With repast taken and many tales told, our four heroes are given their leisure around the fastness for the remainder of the afternoon/evening...

...they have a bit of a look around, and soon conclude that the fastness is more-or-less a vertically arranged stronghold. There appears to be accommodation for perhaps two-score military elves, plus Gallaine and her lieutenants, and a gaggle of civilian-types providing the soldiery with the necessary services.

There are approximately twenty Elves flitting to and fro between the tree top halls making their preparations for the evening meal. Central to much of this activity is a well stocked quartermaster, and in addition you note there is a great tree top perch/nest that is presently unoccupied. You soon learn from the Elves that important personages of the Wold are wont to travel upon the backs of great eagles.

| If there is anything in particular Beringar, Torben, or Armando wish to do, please say so now. They could--for example--arrange to purchase supplies from the Elves, or have them identify various items, or attempt to attract retainers, or something else?

Otherwise, we'll skip to the next day and handle division of the loot, XP, and levelling. |

After a wobbly stroll around the tree and among its various platforms, Armando finds himself thirsty once again, and with a mind to collect his possessions, which he has, uncharacteristically, left behind unattended in the great hall. Heading first this way, and then that — he's sure there's a catwalk here somewhere — he eventually locates an arched and ornately carved doorway and, stepping through, finds himself within the great hall once again.

Pouring himself a fresh glass of wine, Armando notes that his thoughtful hosts have left his possessions exactly as he left them — spilling out of his filthy cloak and greasy backpack, all in an unsightly heap on the floor. He seats himself to gather everything up, hefting the Quartermaster's pilfered coinpurse with satisfaction, taking a quick peek at the Orb beneath its velvet shroud, and finally checking that the mysterious Box hasn't received too severe a battering throughout the travails of the last few days.

Indeed, the Box now draws Armando's further attentions — following a thorough inspection for traps, he attempts to open it.