Act II: Penumbra

[Charon]

The rain lessens as you follow the south road out of Plenty and by lunchtime it has stopped completely, returning you to a summer's day though cool, with a decent breeze rather than the overbearing heat of the previous weeks. The horse, a palamino with white tail and mane and cream coloured coat, is an intelligent beast and proves quite capable of following the road while you eat lunch in the back of the cart, keeping only a casual eye on its progress. The day comes and goes, with little of note happening. You see only a little traffic heading to Plenty. Two elves on horseback that give you but a cursory nod as they pass and a caravan of brightly painted wagons, five in total that either belong to roaming gypsies or circus folk, it's hard to say which for certain.

By the time the sun has begun to dip, it's getting late and your bellies are rumbling. A welcome sight appears on the horizon, slowly coming into focus as your weary horse trots nearer. A halfway house, positioned where the road is joined by an eastern branch. A signpost informs you Inkwell is 36 miles in that direction and Heavensholm 28 to the South. The halfway house bears the sign The Angel's Rest and depicts a heavenly sleeper upon a cloud.
A stable lad, looking to be in his early teens, steps out as he sees you approaching and watches you expectantly. He's clearly from good solid stock, muscular despite his youth with short blond hair and a solid jaw.

[Grodech]

"Excellent." Nirili says. "I was hoping there was a halfway house." She steers the horse/cart towards the sturdy looking stable lad and stops in front of him. "Good evening." she says to him.

[Charon]

His eyes widen a little as the pair of you get closer, clearly surprised at your exotic nature. It's probably not every day the lad sees a tiefling and a drow together.
"Evenin' ma'am." he says, politely, "Four coppers for stablin'?"

[Grodech]

"For certain." she says, climbing down off the cart. "Thank you." She hands the lad 4 coppers and if necessary helps Viales down.

[Cmdr Maxwell]

"Thank you kindly," Viales says to the stable boy first, then repeated to Nirili as he disembarks. Glad to be off the road for food and recuperation, he stows his journal (with some edited notes made after the weather cleared as he recalled a few fresh details).

Waits until Nirili is ready, then heads into the inn.

[Charon]

The stablelad pockets the coin and leads the Palomino off to the stables, unhitching the cart and stowing it under a lean-to.

Inside the inn you see a counter. Behind it is a broad woman, not fat particularly but just wide. She's maybe pushing fifty, curly hair greying at the temples. She leans one meaty forearm on the counter as you approach.
"Evening travellers. One room or two?"

[Cmdr Maxwell]

"Two please, and two meals plus a head of lettuce or a handful of carrots," he replies, fishing out the requisite coinage.

[Charon]

She pulls two keys off a series of pegs and slides them over.
"Room 10, room 11. Top floor. Five silvers apiece, common room's that way."
She jerks a thumb towards a set of double doors past the staircase.
"I'll serve you up some grub in half an hour. Ale's extra."

[Cmdr Maxwell]

Dropping the coinage in her waiting palm, he says. ""Thank you ma'am. What beverages have you got in store? Something that has a light fruity flavour would be ideal."

He then picks up and hands the key to 11 to Nirilli. "Would you like a beverage as well, friend? My treat."

[Charon]

She grins at that.
"Real cute, Pumpkin. We got pale ale, we got dark ale. We got red wine but we're outta white. That's about as fruity as it gets round here."

[Cmdr Maxwell]

Viale's brow twitches at that odd vernacular. He locks vision with the lady, confusion running rampant on his features.

"Why did you just call me a fruit?"

[Grodech]

Dropping the coinage in her waiting palm, he says. ""Thank you ma'am. What beverages have you got in store? Something that has a light fruity flavour would be ideal."

He then picks up and hands the key to 11 to Nirilli. "Would you like a beverage as well, friend? My treat."

Nirili takes her key. "That would be nice, yes." She is heading for the staircase when she hears the exchange between Viales and the Innkeeper and stops. "A term of endearment, no? Like honey, or sugar, or sweetie."

[Charon]

The woman laughs, "Where'd you find him, honey, he's adorable. Yeah, I guess it's what you'd call a term of endearment round these parts."

[Cmdr Maxwell]

Gives a wry smile of chagrin. "Forgive me. The nuances of human vernacular sometimes eludes my understanding. A red wine and whatever my friend would like."

[Grodech]

The woman laughs, "Where'd you find him, honey, he's adorable. Yeah, I guess it's what you'd call a term of endearment round these parts."

"He's been...." she searches for the right word "isolated, you could say. For a while."

She looks at Viales "Drop off our stuff and hit the common room?"

[Cmdr Maxwell]

"Yes, lets deposit our equipment," he replies, putting an end to the conversation. Returning only to pay for and gather the drinks (the lady casting an odd look at the inquisitive rabbit in his folded arm), he settles into one of the chairs in the common room.

[Charon]

The common room is where you'll find the drinks, a slender but muscled older man tending bar. It's busy but not overly raucous. The noisiest patrons are a family of halflings. Three brothers, with two women and four children among them, one of which has the owlish features indicative of Down's syndrome. He sits, drawing with chunky crayons while the others play some sort of card game. The male halflings are clearly full of cheer and are chattering animatedly.
Two humans sit quietly off in one corner, patiently playing a chess like strategy game called dragonchess, played across three boards simultaneously, representing the sky, land and underdark.
An elderly man with grey hair snoozes in another corner, his drink half finished. The head of a small lizard is visible poking out of his sleeve.
Another man has drunk himself into a stupor, passed out on the table. His wife gives him a few pulls to try and shift him before giving up.
There's a spindly looking man, reading a book with half moon spectacles and nursing a pint he takes infrequent sips from.
Two red-headed female dwarves are also drinking heartily, playing a dice game as they chat.
A human ranger with his hood still up chats quietly with a female half-orc.
Two slightly morose human men round out the assembly. They have three pints between them, one untouched.

The bartender will serve you up the drinks you request. Ale is a silver a pop, wine is 3.
The ale is adequate for the roadside, the wine is palatable but clearly low end.

[Cmdr Maxwell]

Viales passively observes the myriad of other individuals, sipping once at the wine and instantly growing a disdain for it.

"It will be nice to put my head down on a pillow rather than a rock. I just hope it's better than this wine," he comments to Nirili as he gives a lazy scratch between Jess's ears. Feeling the swell of usual relaxation through their connection, he relaxes too.

That is shortlived, however, when the action garners the view of one of the kids. They shout and point with a high pitched squeal of shocked interest. This prompts the view to become shared among their brethren. He places a protective hand on her torso as she massively tenses up.

[Charon]

Yeah, assuming you make no effort to hide Jess, they soon crowd around with cries of,
"Cor, mister, is that a rabbit?"
and
"What a little cutie!"

[Cmdr Maxwell]

Biting his tongue to remain civilised, he adopts a pleasant tone. "Indeed. Her name is Jess, however I must politely ask you to refrain from touching her, as she does not like strangers."

[Charon]

"What's a refrain?"
Another child makes a face where he pokes his top teeth out and goes:
"Oh, my dear, please refrain, wot, wot, wot"
and they fall around laughing.

However, they don't poke or prod, more happy to mock you than distress the animal.

(If Viales doesn't follow up, they grow bored quickly and return to their table. Naturally, if you persist, they will too)

[Cmdr Maxwell]

Keeping quiet (and a protective hand on Jess), he lets the children lose interest and disappear. Removing the hand and picking up the wine, he turns to Nirili.

"Thank the gods, I thought they were going to try and take her."

Sipping the wine (if you can call it that), he continues on a different thread.

"I must admit, whilst it will be good to see another from my guild, it is paradoxical that I am feeling a sense of trepidation due to who we are meeting.

[Grodech]

Nirili will steer them to a table where she can have her back to the wall, if there is one available. She sits quietly, taking in the scenes around her as she sips on her ale.

"What with the one we're meeting?" She asks. "You not get along?"

OOC note: she would have her hood up

[Grodech]

Perception, just for the sake of being able to pick up on any subtleties taking place...

[Charon]

Nirili rolls her eyes around the room as Viales tells her about Tegwin.
The halfling brothers are eager to hit the city of Three Diamonds to the east in order to do some gambling. They'll be passing through Inkwell on the way where the mother wants the child with downs to meet with an oracle. They think the child is touched by a god and draws prophetic images.
The game of dragon's chess is nearing its end. The man in the golden robes is going to win and he knows it but is poker-faced, his opponent has yet to come to the same realisation.
The snoozing man is a wizard, you'd bet money on it.
You don't know what to make of the drunken man and his wife. She doesn't seem too perturbed, perhaps this doesn't happen too often, the husband taking a well deserved chance to blow off a little steam?
The man with the spectacles and the book is some sort of scholar. There are diagrams in the book. Anatomical, you think.
The two female dwarves are really good friends, but not lovers you'd wager.
The ranger and the female orc are business associates, like you and Viales, there's a friendship there but they're on someone's trail, bounty hunters, you suspect.
The two morose men have lost a friend in a workplace accident, they carry the dour news to his family, along with a purse of compensation from his employer.

The barkeep seems to be the wide woman's husband. You suspect the stablelad is their son. A family run venture, unsurprising. The man seems content with his lot. He's calm and easygoing with the patrons, good with people. You find him easy to like, despite yourself.