WotW: A Knot of Thorns The First Parchment (Inactive)

Game Master Xzaral

Later in the day, probably around 6 in the afternoon.

Soldiers

Alcott looks down, a smile on his face as he rubs the back of his head, obviously pleased at the compliment. Ward instead speaks up, "Yes, we do have quite a few smiths in town. While we aren't in danger of any bugbear assault, it's nevertheless best to be prepared. Plus there are 'adventurers' who think it's worthwhile to antagonize them by looking for trouble. They do bring money into town before they go get themselves killed though, I guess."

"Ward, y'know some of them are good ones."

"Yea yea, the 'society'" The last he says with a sneer. "Bunch of rogues and troublemakers hiding behind a supposedly organized facade. Still glad they don't have one of their lodges here."

Curiosity striking again, "The Society? Do they give you folks trouble? What is this 'organized' bunch you mention that they hide behind? I'm guessing they hide so well, it makes it hard to put a stop to them, huh? That really is the worst kind of group, you know, if I'm right."

Soldiers

Alcott lets out a sigh as Ward explains, "Yknow, those 'Pathfinders' they call themselves, always setting out to do who knows what. They don't have much presence here, but they have one of their lodges in Matharyn, and I hear they're planning on opening one up in Farholde if they haven't done so already. Tried opening one up here, but Lord Havelyn wouldn't hear of it. Sir Darian of Hamorhall is more lax in his judgement. I can only pray this foolishness doesn't cause trouble for the rest of us. A bunch of ne'er do wells causing trouble, looking for graves to rob, might be enough to cause the bugbears to decide to try something. We'll crush them, but who knows how many fellows would die putting them down. Disgraceful."

"The Pathfinders, huh. I don't really know much about them. But it sounds like you've at least avoided some trouble by keeping them out of your town." He shrugs, assuming. "Now I notice you fellas keep mentioning these bugbears. Sorry, but my curiosity has struck again," he says with a wry grin. "Have they been a major problem? I would gather if they have been any sort of problem, it couldn't be no more than a skirmish here or there seeing how this is a rather small town."

Soldiers

Ward grimaces and looks north, "It's only a matter of time before they assault. I'm sure of it."

Alcott shakes his head, "Ward, um, he seems to think the, uh, the bugbears are ALWAYS about to, uh, about to attack. Captain Varning, he patrols north of the Watch Wall, has a few stories. But nothing Balentyne can't, um, handle."

Ward turns to Alcott, then to Terrick, "They're coming. Maybe not now, maybe not this week, or even this month. But they're planning something. I'm sure of it."

"Which is why Captain Varning won't let you come with him on patrol, despite your horsemanship." Alcott looks surprised at how loudly he says the last, then turns away. "Sorry, Ward. And sorry to you, um, Terrick. If you, uh, see anything you like, or, um, or you think of anything you need forged, just, uh, let me know and I can see about it."

Deciding not to press things further, "Will do," he responds, nodding.

Then, as he notices the covered up display, a curious look forms. "Now, you wouldn't mind me asking what that cloth is covering, would you? If it's a personal issue, then by all means just say so. It's just a curiosity thing, nothing more. Absolutely not important if you'd rather not share."

When Terrick mentions the sword, Ward's scowl grows even deeper. "What's under that cloth should be buried even deeper, like underneath a mountain. Or a volcano."

Alcott doesn't disagree with his friend, but he finally starts to speak without his stammer, "That's a trophy from Lucan's grandfather. You see, during the Asmodean purges there was a group of them in town. Lucan's grandfather was a soldier himself, and he lead the group to wipe out the last of them. Inside that case is the sword the leader wielded. It's a foul blade to be sure, but Lucan's grandfather had it mounted on the wall of the shop up until Lord Havelyn took charge of Balentyne. He came into the shop and saw the blade, demanded it be melted down. The two argued for near an hour I heard, until finally Lucan's grandfather agreed to lock the blade away. Which is why it's back here." Alcott moves over and removes the cloth, displaying a wood and glass case inside which is a long blade, a bastard sword in size. The blade is nicked and dented, it's edge long gone. The crossguard ends in twin symbols of Asmodeus, a third at the pommel. Three blood red rubies lie in the blade towards the hilt, with three serrated edges in the blade itself. The blade itself seems to be stained a red, as though blood has long dried.

Alcott leaves it uncovered only a moment before returning the cloth. "A frightful thing that."

A bit enthralled by the weapon, "Yes. It is. Frightful... to be sure," he comments as he shakes himself free from his brief reverie. Admiring the blade a moment longer before turning his attention back to Alcott as he covers it back up, "That must have been a fantastic duel. Your grandfather was obviously a fine warrior. You see? You already have a leg up on most folks, my friend! You're a descendant of a once great warrior! Who could ask for anything more!" he tells him, grinning.

As they make their way back outside, "Well, I won't keep you fellas any longer. Go enjoy the rest of your day! Well, what's left of it anyway." He looks up, noticing the sun nears setting. "Looks like I kept you longer than I should've. Sorry about that. But I do appreciate all of your help. I'll keep in touch." He nods as he takes his leave.

Just to clarify, it was Lucan's grandfather, not Alcott's. Alcott is just studying under Lucan.

Oops. My bad. Totally misread it.

This is what it should say:
A bit enthralled by the weapon, "Yes. It is. Frightful... to be sure," he comments as he shakes himself free from his brief reverie. Admiring the blade a moment longer before turning his attention back to Alcott as he covers it back up, "That must have been a fantastic duel. Obviously he was a fine warrior. You see? You already have a leg up on most folks, my friend! Not sure how fine a fighter Master Lucan is, but I bet he could teach you a thing or two. Inside information: Does it get much better than that?" he tells him with a wink and a grin.

As they make their way back outside, "Well, I won't keep you fellas any longer. Go enjoy the rest of your day! Well, what's left of it anyway." He looks up, noticing the sun nears setting. "Looks like I kept you longer than I should've. Sorry about that. But I do appreciate all of your help. I'll keep in touch." He nods as he takes his leave.

"We spend most of the days up at Balentyne, but you can usually find us at The Lord's Dalliance on Sunday and Moonday. Good talking with you Terrick." Ward and Alcott both give their farewells as you head back.

Making his way back to the Inn, Terrick heads straight for the room, nodding at the innkeeper as he passes by. Walking through the door, he heads straight for a seat. Rubbing his hands down his face, seeming exhausted, "I will be glad when this charade ends," he says plainly. "These people are fools. All of them. And I could never bear the falseness of these so-called, 'friendly' folks, no more than I can bear my own. Makes me want to end myself. Nevertheless, I've uncovered a great deal. Especially a weapon of magnificence. Yes... it will soon be mine." His thoughts fade to the weapon a moment before, "I shall relate more when Jonas returns."

All things considered, Jonas should be back as well.

Works for me.

Returning to his "normal" self, Morthos will relate the details, whether minor or major, of what he's learned to the others. He'll speak on The Pathfinder Society, Captain Varning who patrols north of the Watch Wall, how these two expect the bugbears to attack soon, and the fact they spend most of the week at Balentyne. I'm banking on you folks reading it. It's just easier. :)

"I have yet to uncover if/when they expect to deliver weapons to Balentyne, though; but that will come. Perhaps tomorrow. I shall return and inquire about the crafting of a new shield. This one is...," he ponders a reasonable excuse, "a bit heavy. Mayhap they can craft one made of a lighter metal. We shall see."

Bostarg maintains the illusion out of habit... and just in case a serving girl needs to attend the room at any point. 'Jonas' relays the story of Halvor below, noting "An opportunity presents itself there... though there would be needs to wait to exploit it. Though I am sure there are many threads that might be frayed to damage the tapestry of Balentyne. Let us spend a day to see the whole of the village at work in light and dark... then we can talk more at length of our plans tomorrow. I have a wager with Sakkarot that I do not plan to lose."

"Alazandaru might you spend some time in the common room this eve? Merely to watch and see if there is aught of worth to notice. I have some writing to attend to and will walk the village in the deep dark of night... just to see and learn. On the morrow... I plan to go to church" smiling and chuckling to himself.

Jonas then lays out his folio and field writing desk and makes sure that the light is fair. He begins upon some documents implicating a person in corrupt dealings with Branderscar - correspondence from Blackerly... but he does not yet fill in the name.

Late at night when the common room grows quiet he retains the skin of Jonas, and takes a walk around the town at night. He merely seeks to note the activity and see what houses (if any) of ill repute are still open. He also etches a better idea of the town layout in his mind... in case it is needed.

Since arrival, Alazandaru had bade his time and informed his companions that his new alias was Skorm, a name clearly chosen to fit his thuggish appearance and new scars.

Since seeing his rooms, he had put on his best menacing aura and was nursing an ale at the inn, keeping his ears out for rumours and his eye on the locals. Although the sharp-minded villain had several nefarious plans he idly conjured throughout the evening, he could see that Bostarg was in his element here and wanted to assess the chaos the little one could cause.

Feeling a bit unwanted, Aedorn pulls out a book and tries his best not to think about how long he'd have to wait in this town and how he'd bide his time without getting on anyone else's nerves. He smiles at each companion as they enter or leave the room but is feeling a bit dejected as the evening wears on.

The Inn, 18 Pharast 4712, 8:00pm

It did not take long for Skorm, staking out the inn, to come across some familiar information. Sitting at a table near enough the bar to overhear, a man wearing the symbol of the crown enters the Lord's Dalliance, quickly greeted by Bellam. "Ah, Edric. Come bringing a new set of proclamations, have ye?"

The man comes up to the bar, removing a several rolled sheets of parchment which he places on the counter, taking the drink provided by Bellam. "Proclamations yes, but I'm afraid not new. A raven came in with news from Sir Balin. It appears he's come upon an old abandoned mansion while seeking his son down near Branderscar. Pretty much demanded we hang those posters of the escaped prisoner's back up. I'd fear the light and the darkness if I were them. He won't stop until he's found them."

Bellam goes through the posters, looking at them one by one before going to hang them on the wall near the bar. "Guess we'd better get these hung then. Wouldn't want that witch hunter in here thinking we were harboring them, right? Probably not anywhere in Talingarde at this point. At least I wouldn't be."

"I'll drink to that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shortly later, after Edric has left the inn, another group joins the busier and busier crowd, a group of 11 dwarves, dirty from stonework, come into the inn speaking in dwarven to each other. The obvious leader of the group calls out, "Bellam, my good innkeep, a round for me and my friends for another the beginning of another week of Torag's good work done at Balentyne!" The other dwarves quickly take up two tables, moving them together and making a scene as they are quickly served drinks.

Like the halfling -- well, the real one, anyway -- Tatya senses no call to go out and mingle with the doomed townsfolk. To her mind, the more limited the party's interaction with the village, the fewer opportunities to slip up and fall under suspicion. Her presence proves no balm to the lonely Aedorn, however, as she shows no propensity to be good company, sitting in silence and tapping her foot impatiently. "The days on the ship were more bearable than this," she complains after a while. "At least we were getting somewhere!"

Wandering the town, 19Pharast 4712, 1:00am

Leaving the Inn, Bostarg begins wandering about, getting a feel for the town. The main road upon which the Inn sits is kept lit, but most of the side streets are not. Keeping to the shadows, it's not difficult to stay out of sight of the few guard patrols he sees. Patrols he notes that are quite well equipped with well organized routes.

Wandering about the town, one thing of note he comes across in the town's layout is the dwarven district of town. There is a definitive distinction where the town's architecture and design changes to be more befitting those of a shorter stature.

It's while exploring the distinction between the human and dwarven areas of town that Bostarg comes across a find. As he moves down the street, he comes across a man coming from down an alley, a look of guilt on his face. As he walks away, turning down the alley he sees a building with barely lit windows, shaded from the street unless you looked. He recalled seeing the building from the front as he walked by, a pottery store by the sign. But now looking down he sees another sign on two boards, The Rusty Blade. The image on the sign is a sheer indication this establishment has nothing to do with weaponry.

As Morthos spends time looking out the window as 'Terrick', he turns and takes a few steps away from it and paces. "Patience, dear Tatya, patience. Our time will come. I confess, I am not accustomed to such subterfuge. It is a slow way of accomplishing our goals, true, but this is Bostarg's game. It has yet to fail us and so we shall play it out until it does." He then peers over at Aedorn; a look of confusion appearing on Morthos as he's unable to understand the halfling's demeanor. "Aedorn. What is wrong?"

Jonas smirks at the discovery, but does not press into the bordello's midst - merely noting it's location mentally. Perhaps my brother would be better suited to delve within those depths...

Out of interest King Mark - how far are we from Balentyne - and can Jonas see it from the town?

The fortress Balentyne overlooks the town on top of a hill rise and can be seen, though the path up to it takes about an hour to traverse.

Roger that

Satisfied with his late evening's work, Jonas wends his way back to the inn and to the suite.

Surprised at Morthos' concern, Aedorn looks up at him for a moment before shrugging. "I'm sorry, I'm just feeling a bit useless at the moment. I'm sure I could be of help to Bostarg in scouting out the town - I'm far lighter on my feet and in the dark than he is, but I get the distinct impression he wouldn't be fond of my company at the moment." He looks a bit ashamed and doesn't meet Morthos's eye at this point. "I really didn't mean to cause trouble - I didn't think he'd take such offense to wanting to have a bit of fun with a girl."

As Morthos spends time looking out the window as 'Terrick', he turns and takes a few steps away from it and paces. "Patience, dear Tatya, patience. Our time will come. I confess, I am not accustomed to such subterfuge. It is a slow way of accomplishing our goals, true, but this is Bostarg's game. It has yet to fail us and so we shall play it out until it does."

"When it does," Tatya replies testily, "it will be too late; we will already have failed."

Surprised at Morthos' concern, Aedorn looks up at him for a moment before shrugging. "I'm sorry, I'm just feeling a bit useless at the moment. I'm sure I could be of help to Bostarg in scouting out the town - I'm far lighter on my feet and in the dark than he is, but I get the distinct impression he wouldn't be fond of my company at the moment." He looks a bit ashamed and doesn't meet Morthos's eye at this point. "I really didn't mean to cause trouble - I didn't think he'd take such offense to wanting to have a bit of fun with a girl."

Morthos places a finger on his lips, pondering the halfling's predicament. His demeanor is unacceptable. It could lead to our undoing. That I cannot have. Hm... "Aedorn, we need you sharp. If this 'fun' leads into something more, then you become dull. Guards become lessened, defenses grow weak. A chink found within the armor is usually where the blade next finds its mark. We cannot have that, Aedorn, this mission is far too vital. Bostarg is just being careful. But, I am curious..." He continues to pace while he talks, his hands clasped behind his back. "Let us say you happen to have your fun with her. Would you be willing to end her if it comes to that? If she were to become a threat to our mission?" he asks as he turns his attention on him.

"When it does," Tatya replies testily, "it will be too late; we will already have failed."

Morthos moves over near Tatya, his eyes boring into hers. "I find your lack of faith disturbing, dear Tatya." He then reaches up and strokes her cheek with his fingers until they wind up under her chin. Morthos then slightly lifts her face up as he leans in closer to where his mouth is inches from the side of her face, whispering into her ear. "I promise you this, dear Tatya: We. Will. Not. Fail. I will not allow it." He then slowly pulls away from her, forming a devilish grin that spells utter confidence. Morthos then reverts back to 'Terrick' and makes his way back to the window, peering out like he does.

Skorm could not help but feel a chill up his spine as word of his mentor hunting them reached him, through the gab of the townsfolk.

He will be done what must be done, as he always does...

Feigning mere curiosity, he went to have a look at the posters.

Six posters are hung to the wall, the six prisoners escaped from Branderscar prison. The portraits are crude barely recognizable unless compared directly. A bounty on each of the six has been placed, 100 golden coins in exchange for the head, no matter if it still lives.

Bostarg-Jonas didn't have any further plans for the night - but I'm happy to wait if others are finishing up things... or want to challenge him to justify himself when he returns from the wandering ;)

Morthos places a finger on his lips, pondering the halfling's predicament. His demeanor is unacceptable. It could lead to our undoing. That I cannot have. Hm... "Aedorn, we need you sharp. If this 'fun' leads into something more, then you become dull. Guards become lessened, defenses grow weak. A chink found within the armor is usually where the blade next finds its mark. We cannot have that, Aedorn, this mission is far too vital. Bostarg is just being careful. But, I am curious..." He continues to pace while he talks, his hands clasped behind his back. "Let us say you happen to have your fun with her. Would you be willing to end her if it comes to that? If she were to become a threat to our mission?" he asks as he turns his attention on him.

Aedorn turns back and looks up at the man, a dark gleam flashing in his eyes that you hadn't seen before as he smiles slightly. "That wouldn't be a problem."

Morthos moves over near Tatya, his eyes boring into hers. "I find your lack of faith disturbing, dear Tatya." He then reaches up and strokes her cheek with his fingers until they wind up under her chin. Morthos then slightly lifts her face up as he leans in closer to where his mouth is inches from the side of her face, whispering into her ear. "I promise you this, dear Tatya: We. Will. Not. Fail. I will not allow it." He then slowly pulls away from her, forming a devilish grin that spells utter confidence. Morthos then reverts back to 'Terrick' and makes his way back to the window, peering out like he does.

"Margoleine" narrows her eyes and glares at the back of the arrogant man as he moves away to the window. Simpleton. His narcissism will be our undoing.

Aedorn turns back and looks up at the man, a dark gleam flashing in his eyes that you hadn't seen before as he smiles slightly. "That wouldn't be a problem."

Forming a sinister grin, "Now that is the Aedorn I've come to expect. And that is also why getting involved with her could lead to our undoing. Do you not see, Aedorn? If you were to have to eliminate her, then we are left with covering it up. And even if we manage it spotless, the disappearing girl would still remain in question. If any manage to see you with her at any time, you would be in question. Which then puts us in question. It is an avalanche that only stops when all in it's path is destroyed. That is what we do not need. You see, it is not you who we fear, Aedorn, but the unknown of the woman we speak. Now do you see Bostarg's concern? We all need to remain as ordinary and as plain as the rest of this town." He glances over at Margoleine. "Take Tatya, for example. If she were to move throughout the town as herself, all eyes would be upon her. Which indirectly turns them upon all of us. This town has seen no beauty like hers nor will they ever," he states as a matter of fact. "Just her beauty alone would draw undesired attention. Do you see the similarities? Inconspicuous is how we must remain until it is no longer a necessity. And patience, Aedorn, patience. You will get your fun," he tells him as another sinister grin forms.

Aedorn turns red with embarrassment and annoyance. "Yeah, I get it already! I already said I wouldn't cause any trouble and I mean it. I'm gonna go get some fresh air."

Turning quickly, he hurries out of the room, passing through the tavern to the cool night air, where he picks a direction at random and walks slowly through the darkness, looking mostly up at the stars as he goes.

With a look of indifference, Morthos observes the halfling leave in a fit. "His anger will make him stronger. He will learn."

Eavesdropping in the inn

Throughout the rest of the evening, the only other item of note is listening to the dwarves. While they speak in their native tongue, occasionally Alazandaru can make out the occasional word 'Balentyne' as they speak, it's use comes into play often. The dwarves sit for nearly two hours before retiring for the evening.

It's not long after the inn itself begins to empty.

Just waiting on Aedorn's response before moving on to tomorrow now.

Returning to the Inn

As Jed returns to the Lord's Dalliance, entering the front door quietly, a natural reaction, he begins to make his way upstairs when he hears the sound of footsteps coming from below in the cellar. An oddity to be sure this time of evening when the good people of Aldencross should themselves be asleep.

Hearing movement, Aedorn steps lightly to move closer, trying to find out who or what is making the noise.

stealth: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (5) + 14 = 19
perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (3) + 11 = 14

The Inn's basement

Aedorn, hearing the noise, quietly sneaks towards the inn's basement. Seeing a light down below, he slowly sneaks down the stairs, turning around the corner he maneuvers around the racks of wine and other goods stored to see Bellam, the innkeeper, currently standing in front of a section of wall opened outwards. Aedorn brushes against a bottle, hardly noticeable but enough for the innkeeper who turns, the light enveloping Aedorn's form.

"Ah, um, Jonas's brother if I recall." As you watch, Bellam closes the door, the wall appearing solid quickly and quietly. "What brings you down here this time of night?"

Aedorn smiles and nods at the man. "Jed. Oh, I'm glad it's just you. I heard the noise down here and just wanted to be sure nobody was breaking in or stealing from you. Anything I can help you with before I retire to bed?"

diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

"No, no. Completely fine this evening. Just, uh, taking care of some things. Couldn't sleep and wanted to get some work in. Figured I'd tire myself out." Bellam gives a little laugh. "Why don't I warm us both up some 'milk'...," he grabs a bottle off a shelf, "...and head to bed, on the house?"

sense motive: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

Aedorn smiles and accepts his offer, but makes a note to check back here later. He enjoys a quick drink with Bellam, making the most idle of small talk about the inn and the weather before making a show of going up to the suite for bed.

Just outside the door, the small halfling waits in the shadows for all in the building to be still. He gives a generous extra hour before daring to make his way back downstairs and to the cellar, where he more cautiously sneaks to the wall that had previously been open, searching for a hidden latch or clue to its mechanism.

Taking ten this time. Stealth=24, Perception=21. If he can't find it, he knows there must be something there and will continue the search, continuing to take 10 on stealth while taking 20 on Perception for 31.

Aedorn searches the basement wall, barely finding the off color stone switch. If not for knowing it was here, he would have never found it so quickly. Pressing the stone, the door quietly opens up, revealing a long passage, the end not in sight in the light of the basement.

After considering briefly using a torch, Aedorn decides instead to follow along the dark passageway by feel, running his hand along the wall as he goes.

I'm guessing it's pitch black in there? Wish I had darkvision!

Aedorn feels along the wall and begins to follow the passage. He nearly trips when it suddenly takes a sharp upturn, seemingly beggining to ascend. The tunnel seems to be suffocating in the darkness for awhile. Imagined shapes hidden. The silence itself seems to eat at you, the occasional footfall your only companion.

You feel something crawl across your foot, trained reflexes preventing you from calling out as the rat moves over your foot. But only one, not a swarm of the creatures.

Finally after what must have been a mile traveling this underground path, gently ascending for most of it's course, you finally come to an end. Feeling along the wall, you make out a ladder climbing into the ceiling you cannot see.

I stopped at the ladder, so I haven't assumed you climbed it or checked it out yet.

EDIT: And yes, completely dark.

I need to find out where this comes out. It could even be the tower! Aedorn quietly and carefully climbs the ladder. If there's a door or latch at the ceiling, he will open it just a crack to see if he can discern anything.

stealth: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (18) + 14 = 32
perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (8) + 11 = 19

Ascending the ladder, Aedorn comes upon a door in the ceiling. Feeling about, he quietly opens it, his heart nearly bursting at a creak in the hinge. Barely open, he still is unable to see anything beyond as no light seeps in, though there is a faint smell of burned coal.

Almost relieved to see nothing but more darkness, Aedorn pushes the door open the rest of the way and continues, hoping to find some way to tell where he is.

Let's just assume he continues taking 10 until he reaches something else for the sake of keeping this moving.

Aedorn pushes the trapdoor aside and enters the chamber above. As he begins to look around, he quickly hits his foot against a crate. Feeling low, he finds the shape of a wooden box. Feeling around reveals numerous additional crates of varying shapes and sizes. Sconces in the walls hold torches of this chamber, though they have not been lit for some time. The chamber is 60' across, but of a strange shape.

In the middle, he can feel another ladder, not door in the floor but ascending he can feel one going up. Tipping it up slightly spills light into the room, though only faintly and not sufficient to light the chamber below. The room above is circular in nature, 6 forges line along the eastern wall. A stairway starts to the south and winds westwardly up to another story. Just below the stairway to the west is a doorway leading further in.

The forges in this room are cold, but obvious signs abound of well use. Racks along the walls hold the products of this forge. Twenty hablerds, twenty longswords, twenty breastplates, twenty heavy steel shields. All bearing the mark of the Talirean military. A box nearby is full of forged arrowheads, waiting to be affixed to shafts. Several sets of master smith tools hang neatly and in order. At present, Aedorn hears no other signs of habitation.

Just to clarify, if you wish to continue exploring, obvious exits include ascending stairs or going west. I've given you what you can see from the trapdoor, so have not resolved a search of the room yet.

Weapons and forges - this must be part of the fort! Even if it isn't it'll certainly be important to them...and I probably wouldn't be able to see anything if I made it outside anyways. Satisfied that he has at least a clue of where the passageway leads, Aedorn carefully closes the trapdoor and makes his way back down, through the long passageway and back into the inn's cellar, moving quickly this time to make sure he's back before morning. Once he reaches the inn he moves quietly back to the upstairs suite, climbing into bed. Boy will I have news to tell them in the morning!

I'm assuming I'll be fatigued tomorrow due to lack of sleep.

Aedorn, not really any rules on it, so I'd say DC 10 con check to avoid fatigue for one day just to make a ruling. I'm gonna look more into it and may change that in the future.

Returning through the underground tunnel, still lightless, Aedorn makes his way back to the inn unnoticed. The rest of the night goes by uneventfully.

Go ahead and discuss actions for the next day.