"About two miles out of town." the bard tells.
"I guess we're staying here, keeping an eye on our beloved tavern keeper. Not that something happens to him or he gets lost. But it would indeed be a shame to let the food he prepared at the Last Stand Tavern go to waste. How about I move back with you and fetch it." Willow suggests to Fauhra. "It would be nice to get a taste of that chili, Moira had as topping yesterday."
"'Chili'," Fauhra says. "That funny word. What is it?" she says as she starts off towards the tavern.
Without uttering another word, she turns around and leaves.
"It's a hot meat dish. Some kind of stew." Willow explains while she walks with Fauhra to the tavern. Once inside she looks around what might be useful.
A lot of old and rusty arms decorate the walls. The chili is easily found in the kitchen. It is still hot in both meanings of the word. At the bar is a nice collection of liquor and under it a few bottles of local wine, besides the barrel of ale.
"Ah, there is the chili." Willow tells and goes for the pot.
Ilvara surfaces from the jailhouse, and finds Moira, Karthus and Clarice next to the post with the tavernkeeper. "Have you misplaced two already?"
Fauhra, meanwhile, simply enjoys Willow's seeming enthousiasm for food with a grin on her face.
Willow goes through the cupboards in search for a bowl. Once she finds the right one she asks Fauhra "Do you want some too?" Filling the first bowl she tries to come up with some conversation. "It looks like we are quite the special group. Besides Cimri and Moira no one is human. That's against all odds. I'm a Samsaran. What kind of humanoid are you?"
"No. They managed to get lost on their own. But luckily I'm no babysitter, so it's not my problem." Moira replies.
"I am dark Elf." Fauhra states in her thick accent, while accepting a bowl from Willow. "Like Matriarch."
"But I find lack of humans no problem. Many people, many talents."
"I just wondered about it. I'm for sure not complaining about a lack of humans. But it's also rare to meet a dark elf on the surface. Don't you usually live in the Darklands?" Willow asks curiously.
Clarice waits around the corner from the cells, listening to the interrogation going on inside. As Ilvara comes outside she stands and moves in to speak to the bard.
"You sing for a living, tell me what you think of this?" she waits a moment and then starts a song.
Trapped in a mine that had caved in
And everyone knows the only ones left
Were Joe and me and Tim
When they broke through to pull us free
The only ones left to tell the tale
Were Joe and me
Timothy, Timothy, where on earth did you go?
Timothy, Timothy, God why don't I know?
She cuts off suddenly, tilting her head and watching the bard. "People say I can look a devil at times. Lucky you then, meeting an angel on a hill, and a devil in a cell."
The bard suddenly believes that his cell should be built a lot sturdier to keep all the crazy out he faced so far. He crouches up in the corner of the bed to be as far away as possible from Clarice. Besides that and the wide eyes he doesn't respond.
With a smile Clarice asks "Your name isn't Timothy is it? That would be unfortunate... So what did you think of my song, Not-Timothy?"
"Wonderful." he presses out with a forced smile.
After eating her share of the chili, Willow takes the pot and a stack of bowls. She puts all of that in a basket. "Are you ready to go back?" she asks Fauhra.
On confirmation she leads back to the jail.
She greets the others with "I brought some food. It's not bad." After putting it down on a table she adds. "Moira gets to 'serve' Caggan only after everyone else got a share."
"Hah. She will like that, I think." Fauhra grins. "You have to feed him spoon by spoon, yes?"
She looks around a moment. "Where is little girl?"
"You don't think I'll pay him back with the same coin, do you? I'll put a spoon in his hand and the pot on the ground for him to eat himself. He's a grown up." Moira tells with a grin.
Ilvara answers the other drow. "Usstan z'reninth ilta ulu tlu wun l'kul'gobsula"
"Bel'la dos, Ilhares" Fauhra says. She picks up a bowl of chili and walks into the jailhouse.
Clarice sits in silence for a long while, watching the bard with a slight smile. As Fauhra walks in she turns to her, "For a singer this one is rather quiet."
"Enchanted by your looks, he must be." Fauhra grins widely. "Did we get any information from him yet?" she adds, as she hands Clarice a bowl of chili.
"Food for you. Must eat well, grow big and even stronger."
"I'd like to know that too." Willow tells about the questioning of the prisoner.
"He told us where he got the inspiration of his song from, he saw an angel 2 miles away on a mountain." Karthus answers Willow.
"Give me a moment." Willow tells, walks out to Moira.
"Would you hand me the Angel Helm? I want to see how the bard reacts to that."
"I'll come with you." Moira replies and comes in. She digs the helm out of her backpack and hands it to Willow.
"Is that your angel?" Willow inquires.
"You stole the helm!" the bard calls out with indignation.
"The word you're searching for is confiscated." Moira replies with a grin. "And if you stay here with us, you'll get the company of your angel sooner or later."
"I wonder what ugly is hiding behind that?" Willow comments, checking on that helm that fully covers the face.
As the evening moves on with a meal of chili and some relaxed talking it becomes dark outside. The full moon is shining brightly at first but later thick clouds hide it and make the night even darker.
Suddenly outside Caggan starts to rage against his bindings. It doesn't take long until you hear the splintering of wood. The pillory breaks and Caggan is free. But as you go outside to check on him you find an upright standing boar wearing the shirt and apron of Caggan.
Fauhra calmly walks outside, and only grins slyly at the wereboar. "Hah, at least he look prettier now, yes?"
Clarice jumps at the first crack, she rushes outside, scythe at the ready.
Caggan takes the insult as a direction fo rwhom to attack. With lowered head he charges Fauhra to gore her with his tusk.
"Ouch, that looks painful." Willow tells cringing at the sight of Fauhra getting ripped open.
She would send him to sleep, but used that on him this day already. So she shoots a ray of enfeeblement at him instead. Or the ground. This entanglement in melee is really not her's.
Moving up to the boar, Moira swings her mace at Caggan. Not her choice of tactics, but she doesn't want to upset her companions.
But that doesn't work out.
Fauhra grimaces in pain. "Oof. He hit hard now, yes?"
She looks at her hand, which comes away from her side bloody and red. Looking at her opponent, she decides to remain defensive for now.
Ilvara walks up and opens her mouth for a moment. While astute observers might see her throat work, no sound is heard by anyone - except the wereboar.
Caggan barely notices Ilvara's intervention.
Ilvara's skeletal minion steps out from the shadows, his tattered cloak waving behind him as it does a roundhouse slash with its rapier.
It's undead form isn't quite as fluid as it was in life, though, and the attack only slices through the air.
Karthus comes after all the others, walks behind caggan to flank with Moira and attacks.
All but Karthus attacks are in vain. And even the claw of him does only limited damage.
Caggan keeps attacking Fauhra trying to rip her belly open. But he doesn't manage to hurt her this time.
"Hah. Need better try, big bully." Fauhra taunts, as she readies to dodge once again.
Clarice closes to flank Caggan with Fauhra, as she rounds behind him she brings her scythe up in a vicious swing.
Her movement throws off the strike though.
Moira swings her morningstar again at the wereboar.
Willow wants no part in this turmoil. There are enough people involved in that. And she lacks something useful she could do too.
Moira also adds some wound to Caggan but in his rage, he is unimpressed.
Ilvara sighs as she sees the attacks of little effect, and so decides to cast another spell of her own, and a small but bright orb flies from her hand to hit the wereboar with unerring accuracy.