The Green Dragon Inn

[Paladin]

Anybody else want to chime in before I NPC a few of you and bump us along?

I'm in no rush. Just checking before I post.

[atpollard]

Anybody else want to chime in before I NPC a few of you and bump us along?

I'm in no rush. Just checking before I post.

I wasn't sure if I was at the window or still climbing from the post, but here goes.

Igber scrambled over the sill and into the open window. "Bless their heart, always a good idea to air out a room" he whispered. With a grace born of practice he stepped softly on the floor and lowered the rope. "This IS a nice rope" he thought as he looked around for something secure to tie it to. Igber might not be good with a sword, but he was good with a knot and tied a secure quick-release knot that had served him well in the past. This 'adventuring' might not be as strange and different as he had thought. This looked like a good place to start looking for treasure. So he quickly waved the others up and looked around the room.

It was about then that he remembered ... "Damn, I always forget to check for people first." ... Igber quickly scans the room to see if he is alone.

[Ithril]

Morgath stands holding the other end of the rope Igber is using.

Chadd

"Time to scram, lets head for the ruins."

In a hoarse whisper, Morgath warns Igber "Igber! Get back out here! Something's happening!"

Just awaiting something actionable

I

[Paladin]

There may not always be an obvious path ahead in my little world. Even during well-established adventures. Feel free to make one, in those instances. The game world is wide open and filled with content, so wherever you poke your head, you will find something.

Igber hoists himself through the open window and into the gloom beyond. The room is dimly-illuminated by moonlight seeping in the arched window and appears to be twenty feet wide and shaped like a half-circle. A closed door occupies the straight wall opposite Igber and shelves line both curving walls to either side.

He can't make out much more than that. The air has an odd smokey bite, almost sulphurous in nature. A muted rustle sounds in the corner to his right, and the distant mutter of Matilda grousing floats up from downstairs.

Outside, the torches bob closer and the rumble of voices becomes more distinct. They are almost all deep, male, and loud. Whatever their purpose, it's a boisterous crew approaching.