Med crouches down amid the carnage and begins examining the creatures' corpses. All four are clearly of the same basic type, though there is some minor variation in size and look. Their skin is thick and warty with variations from dark greenish-brown on the skull, ears and back to a sickly yellowish on the face, belly and hands. No hair is apparent except for some wiry, black wisps behind the gigantic, pointed ears and on the chin.
Each face is dominated by a huge pair of round eyes which almost seemed to glow with an evil light when they were alive but already seem dull in death. Below each pair of eyes is a distorted lump of a nose--no two the same. The arms are longer than the legs and the backs are hunched. Both the hands and feet are large and strong, with four digits apiece. Even the feet have opposable thumbs. All sixteen digits end with large, sharp claws that seem more like dog claws than human nails.
The viscera spilling from the one Pral gutted are, as you would expect, bloody, squishy and rank. Apart from some ugly scars from earlier wounds, there are no markings. Something that Med can't quite put his finger on is not right about them
This unpleasant inspection over, the four new friends make their way back to the inn with Pral supporting Elendil. Inside, a comfortably-sized, middle aged woman--presumably Molly--ushers them into the kitchen where she seats Elendil in a straight-backed wooden chair covered in an old sheet. Without speaking, she dismisses the other three back into the Great Hall. Even through the thick door, Elendil's brave and unsuccessful attempts to suppress his howls of pain tell the tale of her efficient nursing.
Pral and Med ask for food and ale, which appears without any request for payment. No one seems to know how to make a dragon-choker, but bread, cheese, pickles, apple stew and potato pancakes with mushroom gravy are brought forth in vast quantity. Med keeps his eyes open for the Countess's steward, but he seems to have vanished for the night. Eventually, Molly emerges from the kitchen, followed by a large man carrying a dazed-looking Elendil. She bids you all to follow and walks up a half flight of stairs to the first floor of the south wing where four rooms have been opened.
Elendil and Med collapse into their respective beds. Talia pauses briefly to throw open her shutters and sniff the cold night air before succumbing to sleep in the unfamiliar embrace of a real bed. Pral paces stoically back and forth in the hall, wondering if there is any more stew.
The night passes uneventfully. At some point Talia awakes and takes over the watch, sending a reluctant Pral to bed. Shortly before first light, when the daytime pink is creeping into the eastern Skyvein, she yields the watch to Med. Not wanting to unbar the main doors or confront whoever might be guarding them, Talia hangs out her bedroom window by her fingertips and drops a few feet to the earth below before creeping off to her devotions.
Med brings a candle into the hall and by it's light stares at the mesmerizing runes of one of his spell tablets for a few minutes before resuming the watch. Before too long, sounds of activity can be heard down the hall in the great room. Stepping to the balcony, Med sees the round steward talking to Thumbs below. Behind him, even through the closed door, he can hear Pral snoring. A dim morning light filters in through the great halls high shutters.
Ben: Talia is elsewhere for the duration of the next turn so conversation or action at the Inn should not include her. Pral and Elendil are welcome to wake up and do whatever they like.
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