The Mistyvale Inn

[Vahene]

Faen watches Rhode leave and frowns.

'I wonder what has gotten into him lately,' she thinks to herself.

[The Explorer]

*Jherod walks in the Misty and hears Aris's coment* "hello Aris" *Nods* "you make no mistake your judgement of that smell my friend" *Gets some drinks from Roggins then as he makes his way out gives a nod to Faen*

[Vahene]

Faen nods in greeting to Jherod as she walks back to her table from the
kitchen, carrying a new tray with spiced tea and some warm bread. A
noticible breeze flows through the room as she passes through it,
seeming to be coming from the now open kitchen door. The smell slowly
dissipates. Very slowly.

[Chia]

*Sticks her head through the door leading to the second floor, calling out to Roggins over the usual noises of the common room. She is wearing a few pieces of hastily donned clothing, her face smeared with wetted sooth.*

"Can I get some HOT water up there?!"

*A wave of, fortunately now diminished, mixture smell of offal and burned substances flows into the common room again, propelled by the moved air as she shuts the door*

[Greyshore]

Pushing a strand of hair from her face as she scribbled on her notebbok, Noa looked up to the sudden loud request for hot water. She slowly and cautiously closed her notebook, stretching then out in search of the voice's source. Her green, curious eyes followed the tiefling woman who hurriedly stomped back to her chambers.

As the thump of the wooden door closing echoed, Noa evinced a grin. She stood up from the bench and stretched her arms, muttering to herself as she strolled down the corridor in the direction of her recently acquired room:

"Suppertime's..." - she yawned - "...almost here so might as well do the same."

[Will]

Drunk, Will glances over at the staircase where the loud-mouthed tiefling had ended her ruckus and then watched as miss Longbane floated in the same direction up the steps. He scratched a slightly pointed ear, smirking stupidly at the men beside him at the bar.

"Ahem! Yessh, well'ah... g'day to you fine chaps. I... think I'll... turn in, as well." Beaming happily with prospects of more women in more bathtubs, the pale half-elf promises himself a peek or two if he can make it to the second floor without passing out first.

[KoolestLoser]

A cloud of soot races towards William Dearborn and crashes headfirst into his gut, cursing like a drunken sailor.

The tiny soot-covered Gnome yells obscenities about forks being better then spoons and shakes a charcoal covered fist in Marak's direction. He then continues racing through the Mistyvale and out the back door--an angry dwarf stares at the messy footsteps created by the troublemaker.

[Kell]

*In a corner, a puff of smoke sits watching it all with wide eyes. A simple word comes out.*

"Whoa...."

[Chia]

As another evening passes, a gray-skinned female stumbles into the inn, wearing torn underpadding of a nonpresent plate armor. A large cut in the garment comes down from her right shoulder, running several inches below the collarbone up front, with a still sizeable gash in the back.

She stumps through the room toward the stairs leading up, muttering something unflattering about, as best as one can judge, "twitty elves".

A not-so-faint smell of rat urine fills the space she passes through, slowly wafting out to thwart the usual smells of the inn's common.

A few minutes later loud stomping sounds out from the stairs, with the angrily swung door almost braining one of the regulars making his way upstairs. Overriding the man's angry protests, either by the seething glance or, more likely, the choking smell that seems to increase its potency in the warm air of the inn's corridors, the female takes a deep breath to voice her displeasure at the room service.

"HOT WATER! How many times do I have to say, HOT water!"

The unfortunate individual, attempting to make way to his room, finds himself with the door slammed in his face.

Fortunately, this also means that the smell stops invading the common room.

[Mon-da-oth]

Rhode sneaks upstairs with small bits of ale soaked rag shoved into his nostrils. In one hand he is carrying a vial of what looks to be alchemist fire.

[Vahene]

Rhode sneaks upstairs with small bits of ale soaked rag shoved into his nostrils. In one hand he is carrying a vial of what looks to be alchemist fire.

Faen eyes the stairs, and Rhode, and quickly exits the Mistyvale.

[Kell]

*another smoke is lit and the now more regular cloud of smoke begins to fill up the corner again. Aswaith leans back in the chair against the wall, quietly watching the ongoing with a strange, silly grin on his mug. He reaches up and tries to find something to open the window with blindly. When he's found it, he gets up for a moment and opens the window.*

[Greyshore]

A dull thump was to be heard as someone opened the Mistyvalle's backdoor with a kick.

A rather large bag was then hastily pushed by a red-haired girl wearing a flamboyant, green outfit into the Inn's kitchen. Not paying attention to the entrance's wooden step, the girl tripped and abruptly landed on the cold ground while several of her bag's content found their way into the kitchen's corner. Master Roggins, preocupied with the sudden racket from the kitchen, glanced around in search of the sound's source. As his eyes noticed the familiar red hair, Roggins furrowed his furry dark eyebrows.

"Aha, greetings!" - Noa said whilst she chortled at Roggin's expresion of disapproval - "I...I really wasn't plannin' on noshin' anything...not today, anyways!"

With that, she hoggled her way out of the kitchen, dragging her bag with her, and studied, with a grin, the Inn's patrons. She then caught a glimpse of a certain solitary elf by the window. In a wooden evasive action, she took out her notebook, covering her face with it and quickly attempted to reach the stairs in an unsuspicious manner.

[Kell]

*With two of the paws from the floor and the lean against the wall, Aswaith sits back under the opened window. He seems peaceful and happy like this, with birds chirping outside and people doing all types of noisy, strange things that totally don't matter inside. He watches and smiles, quiet and serene, with his feet dangling loosely over the floor. He can't help noticing the awkward behaviour of a rather clumsy girl, stumbling about the inn at first, then skittering away hiding behind what appears to be a notebook. He looks at her for a few moments, wondering. Once having recognised her, he wiggles his fingers as a greeting, a smile brightening his face.*

[Néloas]

Leaning tiredly upon that old, gnarled leaning staff, Néloas watches the patrons of the Mistyvale with an expression that looks to be a cross between disinterest, and boredom.

He makes a mental note as Chia ascends the stairs, calling for water.