Each day ends at the Mistyvale Inn...

[Néloas]

Néloas sits quietly at Maeve's table, back straight and hands placed neatly on the surface. He still wears his plate armour, a bright suit that is decorated simply save an emblazoned silver net on the chest-piece. Cradled in his gauntleted hands is a wooden mug filled with what looks to be water. He does not drink from it.

He follows Maeve's eyes, taking note of Grayle and the blood that had been left to congeal on the floor. He quirks a curious brow, and exchanges an equally puzzling look with Maeve. Standing quietly, he makes his way over to the injured warrior, gesturing oddly with one hand. His armoured digits move in a calculated, foreign manner—a language all of its own.

He looks over his shoulder a moment, glancing to Maeve.

[Grayle]

*Grayle holds up one finger.*

"Just a moment."

*He takes the green glass bottle and uncorks it with his teeth. After a long pull, he pours a liberal amount on his wounded arm, then proceeds to yell all sorts of obscenities.*

[LONOmakesWAR]

Aris overhears Grayle as he descends from the upstairs rooms. He is fully dressed and his sword and shield are swung neatly over his shoulder. He moves deliberately but without the uniform movements of a soldier.

*To Grayle*

"Desert folk dont know what to do with the extra energy they save from being in a decent climate. Best not to get on their bad side... unless you can handle it."

Aris turns to his breakfast as it is set before him at his usual seat.. hard bread, an egg, and ale.

[The Explorer]

*Jherod overhearing his friend Aris's voice and Grayle's comment puts his empty mug next to the rest of them gets up from his seat nods to Aris*

"Grayle, what was the trouble you had with some Cuhannan folks and would you tell me their Names?"

[Grayle]

"Eh wa tha kew ahhn bastah."

*The cork still clenched tightly between his teeth, he drives the needle through the skin flap and pulls the gash shut. He spits out the cork.*

"First he wants to hire me all smiles, then he wants to kill me. Kuwayn's either a madman or a ...a madman. Five against one, without so much as a warning or challenge. Coward bastard. First Cuhanna man I ever met, and he made one hell of a first impression for his people."

*He continues approximating the wound. It looks to leave a nasty scar.*

"Son of a bitch will pay."

[The Explorer]

"Intreseting, but I'm sure he is not the first and think he is more than the second Cuhannan you've met."

*Jherod walks out the Misty*

[Mon-da-oth]

Rhode sits down next to Grayle and stares at the newly stitched wound.

"If yous bes need'n some help with dem fellers lets mes knows. Dar bes at least one wot owes mes fer some work Is done ans is mean'n to collect it in blood."

[SnorriHT]

Latishe enters the room with noble deportment. As she surveys the thronging crowd, she unconsciously smoothes down her honey and burgundy coloured dress over her curvy hips.

She spies the hideous being previously pointed out to her as 'Rhode', talking to another man showing a newly stitched wound. She rolls her eyes. "Men", she thinks to herself "Always willing to show their battle scars after a few drinks".

She then orders food and drink from a waitress and glides to an empty table.

[Grayle]

"Rhode...what's that smell?"

[Mon-da-oth]

Rhode looks wounded and then his eyes harden staring at Grayle.

"Coloth's hairy sack its aints mes!"

He stands up quickly and spits into the fire place where his chew bubbles and hisses on the hot logs.

"Tain't likes Is don't bes spend'n time in da bath'n house whens Is gets da time or least'n da fountain if'n dar don'ts!"

He kicks at a nearby stool cracking the leg and sending it spinning across the room where it crashes into a table. He then turns suddenly hearing the captain clear his throat and notices the captain glancing behind him.

Turning around Rhode spots the Talon Warlord looking in his direction and gulps suddenly dropping quickly back on to the bench next to Grayle.

"Taint mes" he mutters.

[ChikenKannon]

((Bah))

[Oronar]

*sweeps up the remains of the stool and the throws the larger pieces into the fire, continuing on his slow and logical progression of sweeping the floors*

[Grayle]

*Grayle checks the bottoms of his boots. He then sniffs his cloak*

"It's incense, dammnit."

*Grayle carefully removes an ornate cloak pin, letting the tattered garment fall to the floor. He places the brooch in his satchel and kicks the cloak into the fire. It burns quickly.*

"I'm to the baths, Rhode. We'll talk more later, to be certain. You, eh...you be careful, eh?"

*Grayle leaves a few coins on a table as he walks towards the door.*

"Sorry about the mess, Roggins."

[SnorriHT]

Latishe's light meal arrives at the table. She pays and dismisses the waitress. Then she notices a strange smell and sniffs her food. Her eyes zero in on Roggins. As she makes her mind up to remonstrate with the Dwarf, she sees the fellow next to 'Rhode' check his hardy boots, sniff and then throw his cloak into the hungry fire. She sees them talk, but cannot hear them over the noisy din.

She sighs and thinks to herself. "We can bring the glory of Varana to this backward province. We give them education, roads, laws and spiritual enlightenment, but the provincials are so backward they can't even wipe their feet." She sends a pleading look to the heavens. "Of all the places in our glorious Empire, why did you send me here? Cear, the Cesspool of Varana"

She pushed her meal away, and then tries to catch the eye of that Oronar fellow.

[Oronar]

Sweeping the floor with a purpose he looks around continuing his never ending battle with dirt and debris. Taking a headcount of who was still here and who had left their mess. Grinning as he spots Latishe, thinking to himself "Too bad she's taken." and continuing with his sweeping, slowly working around chairs and tables towards Latishe.