He continues on his way to the Inn of the Last Home.
The inn is in the trees of the Valenwoods. It's big enough to provide space for at least one hundred and fifty people. It's been a while since you were here. However, nothing's changed in the last ten or twelve years.
Making sure to keep his hood up, the half-elf orders a glass of elven white wine and makes his way to a table in the corner.
Redmane leads everyone to his favorite table in the corner by the main fireplace. He sits in corner, eyes flickering over every face: Looking for his father’s horned head, and missing it yet again. His hunt continues. He turns to the barmaid as everyone settles in.
”Hot tea and fried potatoes. Please.”
Not being able to help himself, Drakkor glances at everyone as they enter the inn. His face barely hiding his pain at everyone that isn’t his father’s.
GM: Good, I'll wait for everyone to post that they are in the Inn of the Last Home. After that, I'll move on with the scene.
"I'll have an ale, and a bit of whatever's roasting on the spit," Ahto says to the serving wench, as he plops down upon a wooden bench at the table. It has to be some sort of cruel joke to make patrons climb all those stairs spiraling up this enormous tree just so they can get a hot meal and a bed for the night. he grumbles silently to himself.
Knowing from experience that appearances can be deceiving when it comes to inns and their regulars, Ahto keeps alert, looking for anyone about to start a fight or pick his pocket.
Kellandra orders to the servant
some ale too, please, "whatever's roasting on the spit", as my fellow traveler said, the scent is mouth watering, and bread. And some roasted potatoes too. The roads made me hungry. While we are waiting, would your boss mind if I play some music and sing? We can always make room in our hearts and souls for more beauty
"Same." Varis says tersely, dropping heavily into the chair.
"I won't sing though." he adds in a lighter tone.
"Same." Varis says tersely, dropping heavily into the chair.
"I won't sing though." he adds in a lighter tone.
Tika takes your orders, and then goes into the kitchen. You can't help but be watched by an old man with a cap and green robes.
"Old man, corner. He's taken an interest in us," Ahto mutters under his breath to the rest of the group. He doesn't change his demeanor, and continues to behave as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
Drakkor merely sighs and waves a hand dismissively.
”The goblins have put you on edge: It’s just an old man my friend. You forget Minotaur are rare in these parts. He’s probably just surprised to see me here and not ripping someone’s guys out.“
Ahto runs a finger along one of the spiderweb lines of his facial scar. "I come by my paranoia honestly," he replies in the same quiet tone. "There are lots of dangerous folk out there who trade on the fact that people assume they're harmless."
The White Robe wizard, responds to Ahto, Prudence is preferred, not all are enemies or even unfriendly. Watch the Ancient One and keep an eye out for trouble. he states.