The five companions who had ventured to the warehouses made their way back to the Silver Crown where Maisar, Kaileer, and Torro informed them that there weren't enough rooms for them. They followed the directions that Thimpsen had given them to the town's only other inn, The Baron of Mutton. They walked by the constable's house, but there was no light in the window. Everyone had all but decided to just find a room for the night, and the darkness of Garyld's house settled it. Most of the good folk of Milborne seemed to have retired early on this rainy night.
The Baron of Mutton was nicer than the Silver Crown. The common room was larger and much cleaner. There wasn't even any sawdust on the floor. The place was practically empty. The oldest man that most of the group had ever seen sat at a front table. He was drinking ale and talking to a young man who was wiping down tables, "....I built this place up from nothing and your pa struggled to keep it going. Now all you and your brother's got to do is reap the rewards of our hard work. You better watch that brother of yours. He's crazy in love with Haldelar's girl. Haldelar and Parella's good people, but I don't know about that girl of theirs. She's wanting to be a wizard, and she might try to take the whole place from you. It's not just for Andren, but for both of you."
The old man belched loudly, giving the younger a chance to break into his long speech, "You can count on me, Gran'pa. I won't let Andren and Jelenneth take the place from me." From his tone, he was just humoring his grandfather and had no worries that his brother was going to try to steal the family business from under his nose. He noticed that he had customers and dropped his cloth on the table he was wiping.
"Good evening, welcome to the Baron of Mutton. I haven't seen you around before. I'm Barthlew. This is my grandfather Dirkaster, the owner of this establishment," he indicated the ancient example of a man. "That's my brother Andren over there." Another young man was wiping down tables in the back, humming happily to himself. The companions got view of another rare sight in this lonely room: not only was Dirkaster older than anyone thought humanly possible, Andren and Barthlew were identical twins.
"The kitchen is already closed for the evening, but I might be able to find you something if you want to eat. We've got a common room, two person rooms, and a few single rooms, although I doubt enough for all of you," Barthlew continued.
"Thank you," nodded Gala courteously despite her evident exhaustion. "Some food would be nice if it's not too much trouble. Simple bread and cheese would be fine."
Arachne had (probably with assistance) gotten her backpack back from Puddlejumper. She also looked around to see who wanted to take charge of the chest Puddlejumper still had. She figured that someone more physically intimidating than she should be lugging it around... At the door, Arachne noted the cleanliness of the place. Aware of her own current swampish state, she hung back by the door and let other, more presentable people conduct negotiations.
Arachne was happy to accept Gala's invitation to share a room. Her main requirement, though, was that she wanted to visit the room immediately and directly (to minimize tracking muck all over the nice, clean, Mutton Baron. Arachne soon reappeared, wearing much less mud. She was instead dressed in a damp, wrinkled, pale blue nightgown and slippers. Going over close to the fire, she quietly steamed and joined in whatever supper was offered.
Aloysius sat quietly and ate with the others in the dining area of the Inn. He hung his robe and hat as best he could close to the fire so they would dry. He looked quite different in his simple blue shirt and brown pants.
After his clothes were sufficiently dry, Aloysius announced that he wished to spend the night by himself, and plunked a gold piece down to pay for his room. As he placed the change into his pouch, he asked the others to leave word with the front desk as to their plans for the following day. Bidding the others good night, he retired to his room.
That evening Maisar went right to his room, to retire for the evening.
Azrun took a room for himself as he needed time to dry off and privacy to think and write.
Kaileer brushed his wet hair away from his face and hands a gold piece to the bartender, expecting him to go through the odd coin biting ritual humans did when he gave them a coin. He ate little food and no meat then retired early and slipped into his waking dream.
After those who wished to eat satisfied their hunger, everyone retired to their respective rooms with the brief exception of Pug and Kaileer who led the intrepid Puddlejumper to Nafton's stables. Their night in this small town passed without further event. Some of the companions slept fitfully in their worry for Zond, who Barthlew had told them had not been seen here either.
Pug walked with Kaileer to the stables. "So, what made you decide to spend time away from your home? I always thought you fair ones rarely left the forest." Pug asked as the walked through the wet and muddy night. When they arrived, Pug paid for the stabling of Puddlejumper out of the treasure they found on the bandits.
Kaileer considered the question for a moment then answered. "We not like leaving our home. We not like going to round ears places of rock and dead wood. Kaileer want see world... Fein say Kaileer need learn from world to earn hood." Then he paused for a second. "Fein go to round ears place, not come back for many summers... Kaileer want see Fein again."
He then remembbers that they probably should take the chest with them to the rooms. "Kaileer, can you get the chest down from Puddlejumper and carry it back, or should I run and find Azrun?"
"Not need Arzun," The elf said, a bit hurt that his usefulness was being questioned. His thin frame and wiry build were certainly stronger than they appeared and he easily pulled the chest off the horse. Unfortunately, the elf lacked Zond's weight so the chest unbalanced him and he stumbled slightly. With a heave and a grunt, the wood elf brought himself back on balance and got a better grip on the chest then followed Pug back to his room.
Seeing that everyone else was taking single rooms fo the night, Pug paid for his and retired for the evening after helping himself to some food. He was not evident at Gala's morning service.
The Baron of Mutton--Midsummer morning, 1374
The sylvan elf rose early and went outside, happy to breath the crisp morning air, even if it did fairly reek of wet dogs. He looked at the stars and whispered in his native tongue. "What will this day hold for us, Fein? Do you still walk this plane or have you gone to Arvandor already, old one?" He sighed, feeling foolishly childish for speaking to one who, even with elven ears, would likely never hear him.
Stepping away from the inn, he noticed the sun was not up already and went to find the only other member of th party who was likely to be awake at this hour... Puddlejumper. "Hello there, boy." he said in elvish, "perhaps you don't understand me... but then if Zond had taken the time to teach you the round ears' tongue, you would probably have said something by now.", he said, smiling as he brushed the horse's coat. "Don't worry, my friend, we'll find your 'master'."
As the various party members arise the next morning and head for Gala's ceremony, Aloysius is nowhere to be seen . . . . . . .
Gala arose well before the morning light on Midsummer morn. The rain still fell steadily, but the priestess prepared her ceremony anyway. She found an area large enough to accomodate those who wished to attend outside of the inn. As the blackness of night gave over to a gray dawn, Gala raised her voice in song. The Song of Dawn, performed by a Morninglord, is a thing of beauty, and Gala did not disappoint. She carried the lovely song with a voice that seemed to have been trained just for this. The sight and sound of the priestess singing to the dawn on the rainy day drew a small crowd of people from the inn and from other parts of the village as well. As she reached for the high note that marked the climax of the song, she raised her hands to the sky and her palms shone brightly with a rosy glow. The attending villagers were awed. Some of the miners from the Silver Crown the previous evening remarked that this lady indeed must be one of the Morninglords, easing some of the doubts about the strangers in their midst.
As Gala finished her song, she began a prayer to her god, ""Lathander, I thank you for sparing our lives yesterday. I thank you for my new friends, some of which are gathered here, and I ask a special blessing for our missing companion. I ask you to bless this new beginning as you bless all new beginnings." With that, she concluded her ceremony.
Later that morning, Kaileer looked on at the ceremony from the branches of a nearby tree and remembered fondly watching his mother performing a similar ceremony for some god who's name slipped his mind at the moment. There was something about Gala that reminded him of his own mother, even though she was at least 200 years older than his fellow adventurer. Vaguely aware that he had offended Arachne with the boar comment earlier, he decided he wouldn't tell Gala about this comparison, remembering he heard human women were sensitive about their age.
One of the farmers approached Gala, "It's good to have you here, lady. Do you think the rain will clear before tonight?" He looked concerned as he glanced at the sky. The other gathered villagers looked up as well, muttering among themselves. The only one who didn't seem concerned about the weather was a very young but handsome man who almost glared at Gala. He wore a symbol around his neck which depicted an open right-handed gauntlet.
Gala looked at the farmer and blushed slightly. "I'm sorry, Lathander has not granted me the ability to predict the weather. Is there anything else I can help you with?"
The question seemed valid and Kaileer looked at the sky and paid attention to the wind for any hint of what they had to look forward to.
The farmer shook his head, "No, lady, but thanks It just bodes ill, this weather on Midsummer."
After the crowd faded, Gala sought out the priest of Torm to see why she had upset him so.
"Hmmm... what is that man is upset about...", Kaileer wondered out loud and dropped out of the tree in case there was trouble, even though he had left his bow and arrows at the stable.
The young man's scowl quickly turned into a smile as he saw Gala approaching. He bowed to her, "G'day ma'am. It's unusual to see another priest here. I am Semheis the Tormtar, keeper of Torm's temple in Milborne. Is there anything I can help you with on your holy day?" His accent was different than the other people they had spoken to in Milborne.
Kaileer noted the change but said nothing about it as he joined the priests, or rather walked around the priests, inspecting Semheis and generaly trying to size him up.
Azrun watched the ceremony from the door of the inn. He had put down his parchment and quill to watch the ceremony. Azrun watched as Gala walked toward the priest. He acted like he was going to walk out to stop her at first then decided against it. Although, he still kept a keen eye on the situation.
"I just wished to greet you, follower of the True and wish you good morn. I am Galaret Lachiel, servant of the Lord of Morning, at your service. We are looking for a missing companion though, one named Zond who dresses as the guards do in Cormyr I believe. You would not have seen him would you?" Gala smiled at Semheis, with true good humor despite the gloomy day.
"I have seen no strangers about, other than you and your companions," Semheis told her. He returned her smile, seeming to warm to her just slightly.
"Ah well," replied Gala, "it was a but a hope that you had seen him. He seems to have disappeared and we are hoping he did not meet with foul play." She smiles at him somewhat ruefully, "I'm sorry to burden you with our problems. Would you mind showing me your temple? Do you have any services planned for this day?"
He shook his head, "No, the people of Milborne aren't interested in services of Torm on Midsummer. It's not a holy day in my faith anyway," a slight bitter edge made its way into his voice. "I'll show you the temple though."
Semheis led Gala down the road to another wooden structure. It was old and well-cared for. The gardens were beautiful and connected to the town cemetary. The inside of the temple was sparse. There were places for the townfolk to sit during services and an altar bearing Torm's symbol.
"Oh, your gardens are lovely!" exclaimed Gala, "Do you care for them yourself or does someone do them for you? How nice to be surrounded by so much beauty."
Semheis seemed oblivious to the gardens until Gala pointed them out. "Oh, yes, I take care of them now."
Semheis wasn't very talkative, but he occasionally remembered to smile and wipe the scowl off his face. At one point he remarked, "This will be my first Midsummer here. I've only been in Milborne a few months."
"I didn't realize." said Gala. "Where are you from? I'm from Waterdeep myself, and sometimes I miss my home horribly. Do you like it here?"
"It's okay here. The people aren't as receptive as I was lead to believe when I was sent here," he gave her a wane smile. "I'm from Baldur's Gate, but the Tormtar need to travel now. I'll stay here for a few years then I'll go somewhere else."
He looked around his temple, "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I should change." Semheis, it seemed, was still wearing his night clothes. He had apparently left the temple to see what was going on before getting dressed.
Gala blushed a lovely shade of red as she realized she was talking to a Holy Champion in disarray. "Of c c course," she stammered. "I'll wait in your gardens."
Semheis smiled at her sudden discomfort, "You can stay in here if you like. My room is over there." He pointed to a door off to the side of the sancutuary then headed in that direction before seeing whether she decided to go or stay.
Gala watched him go then quickly looked away. She sat down gingerly on one of the wooden benches and waited for him to return.
Semheis returned after only a few minutes. He was now dressed in plain clothing with nothing more than his holy symbol marking his station. "So, what brings you to Milborne? And how long will you stay?" he sounded slightly anxious as he asked.
"We're just passing through," Gala replied. "We ran into some bandits along the road and wanted to stop and tend our wounds and rest for a day. I would imagine we'll be heading out again soon. Azrun takes care of that kind of thing. Would you like to meet the others? I really should go and see if they need anything." Gala rose and prepared to leave.
"I have things to tend to here," Semheis told her, "but I will be here if you would like to bring them by later." He seemed somewhat happier now.
"Thanks!" Gala smiled at him warmly. "I'll bring them if they'll come. Some may be averse to religion you know? If not, I'll be by to say good-bye before we leave. Take care." Gala turned and went back to the inn...
Arachne got up when Gala did, but missed the ceremony. She could hear Gala where she was working (still wearing the nightdress, if anyone cares), around the corner of the inn, washing the mud and muck off the clothing she'd been wearing the day before. When she was done, the clothing was clean, at least, though still sodden. Arachne finished the washing and carried the laundry back inside about when Gala was saying her concluding prayer. Leaving a lot of wet clothing hung up in hers and Gala's room, she joined the others for breakfast wearing her other outfit (one that had stayed comparatively dry in her backpack): The green tunic and soft leather vest & skirt. "So what do we do now?" she asked.
