"Hm, guid or something, you ask?" the fiddler says. "Naw, not near as I can tell, anyway. Just, they're kinda autonomous out there...isolated, I guess, you know? Don't get many outside visitors on account of being so close to the marshes. My guess is they're just a tad antisocial, but who knows, I could be wrong."
He finishes his last glass of whiskey clumsily, clearly heavily intoxicted. "Now if'n ya don' mind," he slurs, "I'ma done answerin ques-shuns, I *belch* ah, think I need ta lie down..." He gets up and almost falls, and stumbles toward the stairs.
"Nice playin with ya," the drummer says. "Perhaps we should do it again sometime." With that he helps his friend up the stairs.
The night passes uneventfully.
|Just trying to expedite the process a little. I am sorry if it seems I skipped over any RP opps you guys wanted. |
In the morning, sunlight streams through the windows, and the skies are clear. As you go down for breakfast, you see that the halfling, Anton, is nowhere to be seen.
"Ah, him," the innkeeper says when he sees you looking around. "Little fella just up and left in the middle of the night. Just said something like 'Can't do this, they would find me for sure.' Not sure what he was talkin' about. But anyhow, some tall fella came in earlier this morning, saying he was sent as a replacement by the Queen. Now where is that fellow? Around here somewhere."