Call of the Forgotten Realms

Game Master Charles Evans 25

For a while longer you continue on through the snow, following the poles. Eventually Janathria comments:
"I think we may be nearly back at town I believe I recognise that fallen tree there," she waves at a toppled pine parallel to the route that the group are taking "from my journey out. There should be a short rise ahead, and then maybe a minute or two down the last stretch to town."

Bronx catches a faint tinkling, clicking sound, from somewhere up ahead, which seems to have a sort of fey quality to it.

lets us keep on going den

Shaking his haed Seebo says that he can't see the swirling air that Walks alone is pointing to.
"Walks Alone is this place, what is meant by the shadow weave?"

"Beyond this sphere are, as I said, the lands where I and my tribe make our homes.", Walks Alone frowns for a moment. "However once upon a time there was a traveller to these shores, who may have had the name of Dr. Gregorian Illhousen; he spoke of these as being 'nightmare lands', and a shard of a greater whole spoken of as 'lands of mists'. A little while later, the lands were changed, after many portents- it was said an over-ambitious wizard-king was to blame- and once things settled down, we had visitors who wander far less often; mostly just dreamers. I have never heard this phrase 'shadow-weave' used before."

Seebo has some idea that 'the shadow-weave' was something Mystra (the humans' goddess of magic) was said to have wrested control of which formerly belonged to Shar (defunct deity of loss, night, secrets, & suffering) during the cataclysms some years back.

Listen check: 1d20+3+2=22
So close! I knew I should have maxed out Listen! :P

"Good, I'm ready to get some aid from other folk to figure out what is going on."

The group continues on for a few more seconds, before with a tinkling and sparkling flash a spray of ice crystals hit Bronx, at the front, in the face. (Bronx needs to make a DC 14 Will save or be stunned for Stun duration (1d4 =1) round.)
Half a dozen tiny figures- that seem composed of glinting clear crystals- emerge from cover in the undergrowth and snow on each side of the route. Roughly humanoid, but with antennae and wings like a dragonfly, they seem to be some sort of troublesome fey, that make a distracting tinkling noise as they move.
(That was the surprise round; there are six to the left, and six to the right. )

"Northern ice sprytes", Janathria curses. "If you don't have magical weapons or salt then run!" She leaps for the group to the right (up-slope to the right), short-sword bursting into cold green flame as she goes, slashing and stabbing at them.

Seebo explains to Walks Alone, that it’s a term he had heard used to describe some sort of concept at seminary, but was unsure of it’s origins or exact meanings and that he had never gotten around to doing anything more about learning about it.
(knowledge religion 1d20+2=14)

Group Initiative: 1d20=15

Bronx's Will Save: 1d20-1=0
Can't fail much worse than that.

Bronx stands stunned.

nim will shout out "does cold iron work agianst der bad fairyes?? nim will carefully hold the girl in one arm and draw his lonsword with the other, i imagine he will have serious minuses!!

“I received my last communication from him a tenday ago, just before he was due to set off on that trip to Neverwinter, and afterwards Mirabar, which you may have heard him occasionally talk about.” the sage begins. “He mentioned in it that he’d heard that you might have been thinking about heading out this way and that I might consider keeping an eye out for you if you happened to be in these parts….”

At this point the sage will show Ashan down to his laboratory, in an outbuilding down around the back of the house; inside, the laboratory is one large, high-roofed, stone-walled, open plan room, with a wooden staircase down to a floor area ‘let’ at least a dozen feet into the ground (presumably to help confine the force of any explosions at floor-level) lit by several high windows at either end of the room and by various fires and magical lanterns ranged about the place. It is equipped with all manner of alchemical gear, including a rather unusual piece of ironwork, part stove, part ‘fractionating column’ with a flamebird foundry mark, which Ashan knows came in from somewhere on the west coast, via Sundabar, where his former mentor signed for it off a barge and arranged further shipping via road to Deadsnows. There are all manner of flasks and jars everywhere (and books) scattered haphazardly about the room and in the case of the containers labelled with what appears to be some sort of code personal to the sage.
In one corner of the laboratory a number of defunct beetles which appear to have been variously stabbed and/or beaten to death have been piled up, which Ashan takes to be the specimens collected from last night. (Another one is lying on a table, partially dissected.)
The sage up-ends an hourglass shortly after Ashan and he arrive, so that Ashan should be able to check the passage of time and to have some idea of when to leave in order to get to the interviews at the former Redstar offices. Jerek occasionally pops in and out of the place, bringing or taking away books from some other part of the establishment.
Are there any particular directions in which Ashan would like to direct the conversation? If not the sage seems happy to talk about his theories about the beetles being some sort of version of giant fire beetles, and various tests which he intends to carry out.

"At any rate, I suspect that this place is far from the lands which you are accustomed to calling home.", Walks Alone continues. "By the way, if you meet any of my fellow nomads, please keep in mind that I am somewhat eccentric by the standards of my people, in that I am prepared to credit that things which I cannot currently see might exist, and that if I see something on two different occasions that I will consider that it could be the same object. If you walked the lands within the ring of dreams, you would understand why we are somewhat cautious about taking things at more than immediately apparent value. One day a stream, the next a ridge. One day a flock of geese on a lake, the next a group of camel-riders in a desert. When one lives in a place so close to the stuff of dreams... well the results of mixing of spill-overs an be somewhat chaotic."

i will turn so the fey attack me on my "on side" also does Jan say anything about the effect of cold iron? i assume that i get a couple of points extra on my ac but if an attack hits because of this extra ac then it hits the girl, i guess i get aoo because the fey are are small?

In theory, if they [these particular fey specimens] close to attempt to melee Nim (or possibly even Bronx for that matter at a time when he is not stunned), then they would provoke attacks of opportunity, yes. This supposes that they have a predeliction for attempting to go hand to hand and not, say, tossing darts from the partial cover of bushes 10ft away.
Janathria has had her brief sentence for this combat round, and has no time left to respond to Nim until next round.
If I understand correctly, Nim is turning around and 'reversing' through the snow, the four or five feet up towards where Bronx is standing reeling from whatever magical attack that the fey just made on him? (Nim drawing his sword as he goes.)

Ashan will dot direct the conversation at this stage as he will have to concentrate on the work that is assigned him.
He believes there will be plenty of time for chatting at a later date, so current conversations will revolve around his work, and any questions, discoveries, or other work related issues.

I have no idea of how often I should post during this work period.
I will still keep up to date with any posts for myself, and respond with rolls, answers, or comments, when I think of them.

As Ashan works, the sage explains at some length his theories that the insects may be bred from regular giant fire beetle stock, but have been altered (by magic or cross-breeding with some as yet likely unknown species) to either be able to perform some sort of planar boundary crossing action or to be able to teleport whilst homing in on some sort of ‘marker’. He produces a copy of a fifth century Dale Reckoning treatise, about giant fire-beetles, by the sage Mearlath Maekwind (an elven necromancer of that period who was trying to work out just how their luminescence functioned) and makes some comparisons of similarities and differences between the anatomical sketches made by Maekwind and the specimen under dissection on the table.
Finally, just as Ashan is starting to look at the hourglass, thinking it is nearly time for him to be off, the sage produces a very new looking book, with a fresh, crisp, smell to the pages and cover.
“And this is my copy of The Waterdeep Necronomicon.”, the sage concludes. “The book which, in some circles, is earning itself the ironic soubriquet ‘The Book of Almost Ultimate Power’. As you may or may not have heard, the church of Selûne has been printing and distributing these, although I gather that their operations in the North were recently set back when there was some sort of disaster at their main printing operation and warehouse in the City of Splendours. The church of Selûne claims that the book is full of secrets kept hidden by the church of their goddess’ rival, Shar, and that, with the demise of Shar, they naturally seized the opportunity to plunder from her church’s archives the ‘secrets of the ages’, so that they could ‘lay them bare for all to see’; It seems to me that a desire for profit, and the opportunity to rub the faces of their fallen rivals in the horse leavings by ‘deliberately spreading secrets’ has had as much to do with their desire to make the book reasonably widespread as any actual notions of ‘benevolence’. Most of the ‘secrets’ that it supposedly contains, whilst new to readers seem incomplete- almost as if some of the details have been deliberately held back- and there is a lot Selûnite propaganda to wade through. However there do seem to be a few useful ideas- and no doubt the Selûnites are trying to tempt people to sign up with their church with promises of ‘we'll show you some of what what we didn’t put in the book if you join’. Of possible relevance to last night’s proceedings is this passage here.”, the sage opens the tome to a bookmarked page and taps a passage of text. “It refers to ‘minion creatures of great tenacity, which can track an enemy across the planes, and steal forth from the dark corners of reality’. Whilst reports seem to conflict regarding last night, I have yet to hear that any of these creatures actually materialised out in the open, but came from corners, or out from underneath things. I do not know if someone has perhaps got their hands on some rather more uncensored notes than the church of Selûne makes available in print form, and chose last night to test out some of their experiments in an out of the way town, where nobody with learning might be around to observe and perhaps make the most tenuous of connections. However: from the ‘big secrets’ spin of The Waterdeep Necronomicon my first thought was that I’d have expected creatures somewhat more alarming than a twist on giant fire beetles to have put in an appearance, but upon reflection I reasoned that cross-breeding for animals intended to be easily manageable would be good sense to most experimenters still in an early stage of proceedings. But I hope that you can see some of my reason for interest in this incident.”

After pondering for a little while Seebo asks “If all these things change, how do you know what is real, and how will I recognise you kinfolk from other things?”

im happy with you thoughts on what nim is doing, i will wait to see what jan says about cold iron before i decide wheter to engage with fey, i will go and place myself between bronx and fey, if i can!

Nim does his best to try to get into position next to Bronx whilst keeping the girl on the side away from the fey.
Over where Janathria charged into the group of fey on the uphill slope, there is a flash and blast of cold air, as she apparently triggers some sort of magical trap. There are various outraged squeals, giggles, and vituperations as she manages to keep on going to career into their position.
The fey on the downhill side of the route laugh and hurl their darts of ice, some targeting Bronx, and others targeting Nim:
attacks vs Bronx (1d20+7=27, 1d20+7=10, 1d20+7=19, 1d20+7=27)
Crit. Confirmation (1d20+7=19, 1d20+7=12)
Attacks vs Nim (1d20=19, 1d20=14)
Bronx takes hits from three darts (no Dex bonus to AC & -2 penalty for being stunned), two of them successful criticals, for a total of 5 points of damage.
Nim takes a hit from one dart for a total of 1 point of damage.

Bronx snaps out of whatever magic the fey used on him to leave him standing slack-jawed during that opening salvo.

Next Round:
Situation:
There are half a dozen fey apparent lurking in the bushes, 8 ft to Nim’s right, and 10 ft or so to Bronx’s left (Nim and Bronx are oriented in different directions), who just tossed that volley of darts at Nim & Bronx. There are more fey in a thicket some ten feet away on the corresponding ‘uphill’ side of the slope, who are being engaged by Janathria, who has her teeth gritted against the pain of whatever magical ward she triggered in charging them. Bronx dropped his hammer and the reins of the pony when he was stunned.
Nim has his sword drawn, and has the girl turned away from the fey who are tossing darts. He tried to block those feys’ line of sight to Bronx, but with the turning round and having to hasten backwards (whilst drawing his sword) he was only partially successful.

Bronx senses that the dart-tossing fey lurking in those bushes ten feet away are pretty confident in their current position, almost trying to goad Nim & Bronx to come at them. It seems likely that they have some sort of magical trap prepared to defend their position, similar to whatever it was that Janathria triggered in closing in on the other group.

Sense Motive Roll: 1d20-1+2=7

Bronx shakes his head trying to clear it. He looks down at the dropped hammer and reins and then at the bushes where the feys are hiding. "Sons of bitc..." He mumbles as he reaches down and picks up the hammer and reins (would that be one move or two?). He starts to shout at Nim, not realizing at first that he has moved next to him, "NIM RUN FOR THE, oh, the town. I will cover your back, get the girl to town and get help!"

If Bronx has an action left (depending on how much effort it takes to pick up the reins and hammer), he will move forward towards town.

Hmmm. 50% chance that Bronx can manage to grab them both in one action.

Check of % chance of Bronx being able to get both reins and hammer in the same action. (1d100=79)

Sorry, Bronx, that looks like two actions, on this occasion; Bronx seems still slightly too woozy from the magic to grab the reins with one hand and bend down to retrieve the hammer in one action. There isn't anything in melee range of Bronx to avail itself of a chance to make attacks of opportunity, however.

nim will retreat to town! " i will sing songs of your courage freind bronx !"

"I see that you comprehend perfectly why, as far as my kinfolk are concerned, the past and future are almost entirely irrelevant- only what something apparently is in the now. But unlike the other native creatures of this place, we are not so mutable in form or memory." Walks Alone sighs. "Our lives are harsh, so I hear, compared to those of some from otherwheres who wander our lands for a time; but books of prophecies such as The Apocalypticum of Alaundo, have little meaning or concern for us. It is my belief that our lands are too changing that our futures could ever cleave to such absolutes for long."

Whilst Bronx is bending down to retrieve his hammer and to catch hold of his pony’s reins, Nim edges past him, backing as fast as he dares in the snow and trying to keep the girl shielded from the dart-tossing fey.
From where she is fighting, Janathria (without much attention to spare to look at what Nim and Bronx are doing) responds to Nim’s previous question.
“I said magic or salt, you strawbrain. These mugzarks”, (the word seems foreign, but sounds almost certainly uncomplimentary) “aren’t regular fey.”

You hear the dart-tossing fey in the bushes twittering in the Sylvan tongue in frustration, ‘no, don’t let the great lummox escape’, and ‘confound Mellios, we were told to expect lone travellers if anyone’.

After shouting some things (which Nim can’t understand), the fey to Nim’s right (and Bronx’s left) give Nim their full attention, targeting him with desperate abandon with their next volley of darts:
Attack rolls vs Nim (1d20=9, 1d20=10, 1d20=20, 1d20=16, 1d20=11, 1d20=19)
Crit. Confirmation roll (1d20=5)
Nim takes hits from all six darts, (sorry, I forgot to ask Invisible castle to add +6 to each of the attack rolls) for a total of six damage. Unless they have any ability to sense targets through falling snow, it seems that it might be possible for Nim to move 'out of sight' of these dart-tossers soon, however.

Next Round:
Situation:
Nim has backed almost out of sight of Bronx (and hopefully of the dart-tossing fey), in the direction of what is believed to be town. (Nim is currently 15 feet away from Bronx).
Bronx has retrieved his hammer and his pony’s reins. To Bronx’s left are the dart tossing fey on the lower slopes, in their bushes, and to Bronx’s right is the thicket where Janathria is engaged in desperate melee with the fey up there.
The dart-tossing fey look to be reluctant (or fearful) at present to leave their bushes to pursue Nim.
Janathria seems to be fumbling at her belt for a bulging pouch of some sort with her off-hand.

Grumbling, "Salt and magic, what are they magic slugs?" Bronx shouts over his shoulder, "Jan! We are leaving!" Bronx will move forward and try to keep himself and the pony between Nim and the girl and the fey, providing cover. "Nim, get out of here before more of them hit you!"

"They're living ice, so salt screws their regenerative abilities; catch."
Janathria not really looking round from her fight pulls the pouch from her belt and flips it through the air in Bronx's general direction with her off-hand.
In the meantime Nim has headed out of sight into the falling snow.
I'm open to suggestions as to what actions Bronx may want to try as he starts to move off. Currently he has his pony's reins in his offhand and his hammer in the other. The pouch is about the size of Bronx's fist and heading through the air in his general direction.

Nim heads off into the falling snow, his last sight Bronx grabbing his pony's reins and retrieving his hammer.
Nim turns back around and (having checked that the girl is okay, although still asleep) ploughs off, full speed, through the snow. Following the poles, Nim ascends a short rise and then starts to descend again.
Presently, in the absence of any companions to distract him with chatter, the swirling patterns of snowflakes whirling through the air seem to Nim to form an almost hypnotic pattern.
Could Nim please make a DC 17 Will save?

Bronx will keep following after Nim, ignoring whatever Jan tossed his direction since he already said they were leaving and he has his hands full as it is. Bronx will try to provide cover for Nim using himself and his pony, but follow as fast as he can.

will save I made it! wow! 17!! nim keeps on going!

Ducking under the pouch, and not bothering to stop to watch what happens next, Bronx makes a hasty withdrawal.
Screaming with frustration, the fey launch one last volley of darts after him, striving to hit him, but the pony getting in the way of several:

Attacks on Bronx (1d20+6=13, 1d20+6=20, 1d20+6=25)
Attacks on Bronx's Pony (1d20+6=10, 1d20+6=12, 1d20+6=19)
Bronx takes two more hits for a total of two more points of damage.
Bronx’s pony takes one hit for a total of one point of damage.

After half a minute or so, the shouts and noises of the fighting muffled behind him, Bronx pauses briefly to calm his pony, checking it for any signs of serious injury (but finding none), and then moving onwards. Once out of the danger zone, Nim seems to have picked up speed as much as possible from the way that the snow is scattered around his tracks. Bronx resumes his progress, checking for the guide poles, and keeping an eye on Nim’s tracks.
Presently, without the distractions of the company of anyone other than his pony, the falling snowflakes seem to adopt almost hypnotic patterns as they dance and whirl through the air before Bronx’s eyes.
Please make a DC 17 Will.

First the trees thin, then come to an end, and then, after following the poles across open ground for a short way, the wooden walls and shingled roof of a building emerge from the falling snow before Nim’s eyes. It seems that he has arrived back on the edge of town, although the weather is apparently keeping people indoors.
It looks as if this building could be a tavern, from the signboard featuring a rough painting of a beer tankard hanging outside the most obvious entrance. (What windows there are have been shuttered up against the winter cold.)

nim goes to the door and tries to go in (is it locked?)shouting for help "i need a healer dis little girl is hurt"

Will Save: 1d20-1=5

For a while, Bronx stumbles along, then trips, and a few moments later is emerging into the bright spring sunshine of a woodland glade. There doesn’t seem to be anything unusual about this situation at present (this goes with that failed Will save) to Bronx.
The other occupants of the glade- seven orcs and what looks to Bronx like a crossbreed between an orc and an elf- are gathered around a folding military campaign table discussing something in an orc dialect that Bronx can barely understand. From their matching leather armour, short-swords, and the identical wooden shields with an elven rune (or letter) marked upon it they seem to be members of a military band of some sort, with the crossbreed as their leader. They don’t seem to have noticed Bronx, and for some reason Bronx feels that it’s possible that they might not be able to do so.
Spread out upon the table is a parchment of some sort.

The door (complete with a festive holly wreath) seems to be barred from the inside, although from chinks of light and sounds of movement coming from within it seems to Nim that someone is around. Simply shouting doesn’t seem to have garnered Nim any attention thus far.

“Well I see that it is time for you to be off.”, the sage glances at the hourglass. “It’s been a pleasure to have someone as polite and skilled as you around, and as I said, call back this afternoon if you have the time. In case not...” he shrugs and passes Ashan three silver coins. “Slightly more than what we agreed, but as I said, you’ve been a useful company at a tricky time. Jerek will show you out.”

Since Bronx believes he can move unnoticed, he will try to move closer to get a look at the parchment.

does nim know how to get to the inn he was in this morning, if so he will make his way there, if not he will bang very hard and loudly on this dooor, yelling help is needed

The parchment looks to be a large map of northern Faerûn, or at least as far as general geography goes. Bronx recognises the rough positions of the mountain ranges and coastlines although many of the forests look much more extensive on the map than he would expect, and what settlements seem to be marked are almost entirely unfamiliar in both names (marked out in dwarven letters) and locations. There is also a strange network of lines marked on, in a seemingly haphazard pattern which doesn’t make any sense at first to Bronx.
The orcs continue to completely ignore Bronx.
Close enough to hear them clearly, Bronx begins to pick up scraps of what they are saying through the very strong accents.
“The great queen destroyed their leader and armies... now the filthy renegades are hiding things.”, the leader seems to be saying. “Here, here, here.” he pounds the map. “These ‘hounds’ have come from outside, helping them to work magic. Where do they come from? Who sent them? Why are they helping them? Why are they working magic in these places, on the ley-roads? Well? What answers do you have from the latest prisoners?”
“One of them thought that because the great queen beat them so soundly, that they have lost all hope: That they are leaving caches for an uprising at a later date. But the hounds come and speak with those who still have authority, and frighten them. They are too scared to say anything to those below them. And the hounds often kill those left with authority before moving on.”, one of the orcs laboriously explains.
“The great queen will not be happy to hear this if this is all that can be reported back.”, the leader retorts. “They are hiding things, great queen, leaving caches for a later date. She is NO FOOL. She will have worked out that much for herself ALREADY. She will want to know a date; who or what these hounds are; are they working for someone of which the leader of the Fwuim Dduluinnath renegades was in fact only a servant? Even how they are making the items or beings that they are hiding disappear.”
Another orc pipes up:
“One of the prisoners had been in contact with a group of renegades there,” he points at the map. “He had heard that they had one of the greatest treasures to be saved from destruction by the great queen on the plains of Zahar had been carried away to that place. Five days after a hound arrived, to speak with the renegade with authority there, the prisoner lost contact with that group of renegades, and the ley-road was shut. The prisoner thought that they might be sealing off the ley-roads, creating dead-ends in the network, ‘to hide their remaining treasures in the angles of time and space’. Those were his words. I do not understand what he meant though, and he died soon afterwards.” He finishes, mumbling. “I did not think that it might be important.”
“This is bad. The first LEAD which we get as to what they are doing since my half-sister brought to our attention the ley-road connection, and you killed the man.”, the crossbreed says. He pounds the table angrily. “By the blade-brothers, have I taught you nothing? You are lucky that it is ONLY ME in charge of you, and not the great queen herself. You DID NOT THINK. The great queen has only one reward for those who fail her, but live, and if you do not think you are much more likely to fail her.” He stops and seems to be making a visible effort to calm down, forcing himself to breathe more slowly. “You may be lucky. We still have three months left hunting renegades in this part of the realm before I am expected back at court. If we can capture any more, and get them to talk more about his hiding things in ley-roads, I may have enough to report that I do not have to satisfy her by cutting off your head and presenting it to her on a platter, for killing the only source of information we have come across who had even the vaguest of ideas about the details of what her surviving enemies might be planning.
Are there any points that Bronx has been paying particular attention to or trying to work out, during this time?

Bronx is trying to figure out what the deal is with these ley-road and stockpiles. If they exist, it may be valuable. He doesn't really understand much of what is going on. He was a vague idea that he is witnessing something that happened in the past, or perhaps the future.

"This book appears very interesting."
Ashan will accept the silver pieces gratefully.
"From all the information I have been able to gleen, you are right about where the bugs appeared from."
Pause for a short thought, then continue.
"Were all the bugs the same?"
"I would really like to look into this more at a later date.
Right now though I better get up to the offices for this interview."
Ashan will pocket the silver and follow Jerek out, then start to make his way to the mine offices.

Paying attention to the map, Bronx notices that the strange lines seem to start, or connect with one another usually where a crude symbol of some sort has been drawn on the map. Often it looks like these are black dots in hilly or mountainous areas (caves perhaps?), or two blocky uprights and cap, like the trilothons of some stone circles.

Bronx manages to figure out approximately where Deadsnows might be, if it were marked, based on the relative position of the town towards one end of the Nether Mountains, and notices that one of the lines seems to start (or perhaps finish) on the map in that sort of area, next to a triangle whose sides are all the same length.

Leaving the sage’s house, having been shown out by Jerek, Ashan discovers that it has begun to snow whilst he has been inside in the laboratory. Cursing slightly, and pulling his cloak about him, Ashan hopes that this won’t interfere too badly with his progress to the mining offices. He heads out of town, following the directions which he has been given. Fortunately, there are features to make obvious the track upto the mining offices, such as earthen banks or low stone walls along the edges of the track. Ashan certainly wouldn’t want to be wandering around with no kind of distinguishing features or direction for guidance with visibility as poor as this [ooc](seldom more than a couple of dozen feet). [ooc]
Time approx. 11:28, 30th Nightal, 1373 DR
After a zig-zagging climb that switch-backed up a long steep slope, the track has taken a course which should be roughly southwards (unless the geography around here has become muddled up), through trees, still sloping uphill slightly. Ashan has now been following the track through the trees for some time when he hears what sounds like a pack animal of some sort (and of someone accompanying it on foot, cursing and muttering to himself), approaching Ashan through the falling snow from the opposite direction.

nim will try get to the inn he stayed at, wis check a natural 20!!

Int check: 1d20+1=11

"Hmm, very interesting. Well, I don't understand this stuff." Bronx thinks to himself.

Nim manages to make his way into the centre of town, hoping to pick up landmarks he might recognise. He feels that he is starting to know where he is now, standing outside one of the town’s inns, with its signboard featuring a big black bear.
This inn seems to be open, by the sounds of lots of people moving around inside; or Nim could carry on towards Mrs. Prestwick’s boarding house.

Bronx feels himself somehow starting to slip away from the scene.
Is there anything Bronx wants to try to look at or do before he leaves?

nim goes to the boarding house and shouts out for help as he enters

Not really. He feels a little lost at the moment.