Chapter 4: A Night To Remember

Avis nudges Nerea with an elbow as they approach. "Looks like you have some competition," she mutters, nodding toward the elf. "Unless you think you can convince him to join you for a duet. Having a partner might cover up the fact that you're out of practice."

"Now there's an excellent idea," she responds, perking up at the prospect. "I've missed singing to music. Let's see if he's amenable."

Sauntering up to the table, Nerea takes the seat closest to the elven bard and calls out a greeting. "Alae, friend," she says, smiling her most charming smile. "I couldn't help admiring your instrument. Will you be playing much this evening?"

With Rhenwald giving Nerea a sword to defend herself if caught in melee, Imarra's mind wanders to the equipment everyone has on them and, recalling what she knows about the undead, furrows her brows worriesome. She comes up next to Cyrus and asks "Mister Rhenwald, do you know a weapon shop here that might open before we leave?".

High Elven Minstrel: "Alae." the handsome he-elf replies with a confident smile and a slightly mischievous gaze, his glazed blue eyes twinkling with lustre at the sight of the fetching half-elven cleric.

"I might very well be, now that you've shown up," he jesters with a wink, before brushing off his roguish charm and adding in a more sincere tone: "Davil Starsong of The Dales." He accentuates his first name in a flowery manner (Dáville). "Please, be seated. I was just talking with... Malark was it?" The tiefling nods. "I was just talking with Malark here about the Time of Troubles. Perhaps you'd care to join our conversation..."

"Nerea Maendellyn, cleric of Solonor and occasional singer," she replies with a flourish, before resting her chin on the palm of her hand. She grins at the two of them. "So. The Time of Troubles. What precisely was the subject of your discussion?"

As the others take their seats, she pays particular attention to Avis, noting her sour expression. Nerea spares her a subtle wink and smirk before returning her attention to Davil and Malark.

Avis frowns at Nerea's wink. Does she think Avis cares that Nerea has terrible taste? No matter.

As they speak, she directs her attention to the tiefling and his strange markings. Perhaps they are only tattoos, but Avis suspects there is more to them than meets the eye. Gesturing under the table and whispering a few arcane words, she casts Detect Magic.

Davil Starsong: "The nature of the relationship between Kelemvor and Midnight... Mystra, I mean..." The sun elf smirks.

Detect Magic:

Kardalis grimaces in the direction of the high-elf, of all the surface races those were by far the worst.
Noticing Avis' suspicion, Kardalis finds a spot near her.
"I don't know about you, but I don't like the elf one bit"

"Neither do I," Avis mutters. "You can smell his arrogance from across the room. I have to wonder if his face is stuck in that smirk."

Avis continues to focus on Malark, trying to get an exact count of magical auras, as well as the power of the strongest one.

Avis concentrates harder on the auras, honing in on their locations and attempting to identify their associated magic school.

(Rolled Spellcraft: 19, 10, 20, 11, 15, 11)

"Fascinating," Avis mutters. She turns to Kardalis. "To be honest, I'm much more interested in learning why that tiefling is drowning in magical equipment and enchanted body art. Have you ever seen anything like that?"

"Really?" Kardalis says, slightly surprised "Why would anyone in this town need to be lit up like that? Besides us of course"

"The nature of their relationship?" Nerea echoes, glancing briefly at Amra and gauging her expression. She ignores Avis's hushed discussion with Kardalis beyond the brief, inquisitive quirk of an eyebrow. "Speculating, more like," she teases. "I do hope you're not suggesting anything scandalous."

"Perhaps he is like us," Avis suggests. "A traveling mercenary. Some sort of adventurer, at least." She taps her fingers on the table, impatient. She wants desperately to speak with the tiefling, but she doesn't want to potentially irritate him by drawing him away from Nerea and Davil's conversation.

She sighs and props her cheek on a palm, staring at Malark as though willing him to notice. "So, you think the elf is untrustworthy? Or you just don't like him?" she asks Kardalis.

"Whether he is here on contract or here of his own accord, I think he must be an adventurer, though that terms seems to general."
Kardalis glances back to the elf, focusing on his eyes and manner of speaking. "If I'm being honest, I hate his face and mannerisms, entirely personal judgement. But...I never trust people who wink and smile too much"

Avis chuckles. "You and me both. Though I imagine you must also distrust the cleric, by that logic. She seems to have an excess of grins."

She whispers to Ikkri, "Keep an eye on the blonde elf. Tug my ear if he tries to steal anything or do anything unsavory."

Ikkri clucks like the black hen and stares at Davil.

Kardalis tilts his head in thought, "With her it is not so much distrust as my discomfort with unpredictability. For example... You're an ass....consistently. I find that refreshing to an extent. Especially when we live in a world of two-faces and many personas"

Avis smirks. "Fair enough. I do wonder what exactly she's doing here. Is she here to do a job, or does her god want something?"

She looks away from Malark for a split second to glance at Imarra. "What of the Rashemi witch?" she asks Kardalis. "What do you think of her?"

Despite the many people and the pleasant smile of the elf, Imarra's eyes are drawn again and again to the tattooed tiefling, glancing over at each of his movements. Much more tense than she likes to be and one hand never leaving far from the hilt of her dagger. "May we find a different table." she asks Amra, though her tenseness makes it sound more like a suggestion than a request.

"Regarding the witch, I think a dajemma is an admirable quest. If there is one thing that I hold to, it is that the pursuit of knowledge is valuable. However, I will say that at times, she seems to be...very young. Which I suppose is the reason for the dajemma."
He turns to Avis with a question "And what are your thoughts? You seem more careful than what you try to project."

"She's cute," Avis replies. "Naive, as you said. But I expect traveling will solve that. Right now, though..." She glances at Imarra again, noticing that she, too, is staring at Malark, though her posture is stiff. "There seems to be a bit of prejudice at work. You'd think she might at least know by now not to judge by appearance, after traveling with us."

She shrugs. "As for Rhenwald, he's a little brash, but strikes me as honest. I've yet to otherwise form a strong opinion."

"A little brash you say? You did not strike me as the generous type. But aye, he seems...sincere. However, to me he seems a strange mixture. Condescending and puffed-up yet a man who clearly falls too far into his drink, and yet not a slob or slovenly as one might expect. Many questions."