He pauses a moment, the door strangely heavy with his reluctance to open it. 'So many miles...'he remarks to himself with a wry smile looking down at the well-worn boots covering his sore and tired feet, '...so many miles.' Unsure if he has the energy to socialize, but also certain of the soreness and exhaustion of his body and attracted by the sounds and smells of the tavern, he breathes deeply filling his lungs with the rainy scent of the night air, opens the tavern door and turns his back to the road.

The dark sorcerer stopped looking at the halfling and started staring at this new traveller, discerning what he could about this stranger.

she chuckles softly at Sultair, and nods her head slightly, acknowledging him..."Not right at this moment," trying to hide her face from him, her amber eyes glowing softly........she starts to make another comment, when she notices the stranger appear in the door, and like the mage, starts intently studying this person, and stands up, holding her staff to the side, leaning on it nonchalantly......

[ 02-11-2002: Message edited by: TAOWolf ]</p>

<font color="cyan"> OOC> where is everyone? *LOL*

Even the relatively dim light of the tavern demands a painful adjustment for his eyes after so many hours in the rainy darkness. He pulls the door closed behind him and stands blinking for a moment as he draws back the hood of his cloak exposing a wet mane of shoulder length black hair. Still blinking, he feels, more than sees, the shifting movements of the other patrons upon his entry. “It is only to be expected,” he thinks, “these rituals of movements and stares, the curious and wary mutual appraisals – a comforting constant all the same, however.”He rests a longbow of snow colored wood against the wall for a moment and adjusts the straps of his small pack. A pair of axes are slung over his shoulder, their wet blades reflecting the firelight. A smaller axe, balanced for throwing, hangs from his belt.

His eyes having adjusted to the light in the tavern, he picks up the bow in a gloved hand and glances quickly about the room making a point to nod an acknowledgment to the probing gazes of the both the dark-clad man, a spellcaster perhaps, and the woman who has so puzzlingly decided to break off her conversations and stand up. “This is not a crowded place. The night and the storm have been kind,” he thinks to himself, relieved that the late hour has thinned the number of patrons and provided a choice of open tables. “It will be good to sit down and rest.” He makes no effort to hide his fatigue and sits down at a small table near the door.

She leans against the wall,partially hiding in the shadows, and rests her face against her staff, the hood of her cloak slightly pulling back, revealing her amber eyes, glowing with a strange light as she stares at the newcomer. She glances over his weapons, and smiles slightly, watching him tiredly walk to a table. She motions at the barkeep with her eyes, instructing him to take the tired man some ale and food, all the while softly stroking her midnight black staff, glancing up from time to time to look at the crystal in the wolf's paw at the top............

<font color="lightgreen"> Sultair feels a tiny bit dismayed at TAOwolfs reply, and decides to find someone else to toy with...
He draws an obviously Golden Goblet from his cloak, and raises it to eye level. Staring at it with an almost fierce look on his face, and suddenly, the words "</font><font face="magneto", size="4", color="red">Order of Merlin</font><font color="lightgreen">" appear as fire letters egraved in the top of the Goblet... he sits down at the nearest table, and seeming unconcerned at the newcomer... he raises the apparently empty Goblet, and slowly poors some brownish liquid from it onto the table. Watching the flow of bevarage he chants quietly "Munto infro myan lumos!!" suddenly, the bevarage stops flowing, and the pool on the table begins to glow brightly. Sultair bends over and looks into the puddle, and soon rises from it with a smile on his face. He waves his hand once over the pool, which suddenly vanishes from sight, and picks up the goblet again. He drinks deelply of it, and rises, seemily unafected by the drink. He accends the stairs quickly, and finds an empty room in which he lies on the bed, and falls asleep...</font>

Meanwhile, in the room where the barbarian was resting (together with Nebbie the dead-drunk psionic :D )...

With this priceless treasure in his possession, Zang-Gief reflected, his dream of heroism and immortality would easily become a reality. Yet would it be right for him to claim for his own something he never paid for in gold, nor was given to him? It surely would belong to someone else. No, he thought, he shall not keep it, but instead shall hand it to the barkeep and tell her everything... tomorrow morning.

The barbarian turned to the drunkard lying below the table, who had presumably stumbled into his room by accident. His face looked kind of familiar, yet Zang-Gief could not recall the exact circumstances under which he had seen that face before. Feeling somewhat sorry for the stranger, he picked him up and laid him on the bed meant for himself...

[ 02-12-2002: Message edited by: K T Ong ]</p>

After staring around the room for several minutes, and making sure she is not noticed, she heads for the stairs, and the rooms above.
She stops briefly outside Sultair's door, sliding a note under it, and continues on, not making a sound, almost stalking like a cat down the hallway. She pauses briefly outside the barbarians door, listening quietly, smiles to herself, and holds out an amulet, chanting softly, "<font color="cyan">anal na drucd</font>".....~<font color="skyblue">sleep well my friends, you will need it</font>~........pausing outside her door, she sets a ward, and enters, closing the door softly behind her...............

<font color="lime">While the inhabitants of the tavern are fast asleep, shadows form in the forest beyond, gathering a small force.
Numbering between 10 and 20, they wait for daylight..........</font>