The Sheraton Tara - move 1

Radegast walks up to the party, with a loud splat he drops the body of the last Triplet at everyone's feet.

"What happens next?" asks Radegast.

The bar continues to burn neatly behind you. The conversation is quick, the possibility of the enemy still very present.

The tribesman sees Ronak awake and seems somewhat relieved. Although not relieved of his burden.

The Tribesman scowls out his request, "Radegast is it? You have a cart? Perhaps we could put Ronak on your cart or over a mule? I am at my limit..."

"I can walk," states Ronak. He shakes his legs free from the women. "I'bin hit worse." The blood has soaked into his collar, already caking in the region of his neck.

The Tribesman pauses to catch his breath, "and perhaps we should put the boy on a mount as well. And for the love of god, if you've got beer, I've got coin..."

Haas the bartender sighs, looking longingly at his bar. "I'll wait for the fire brigade. They will have questions. Don't worry about me."

Everyone gets the distinct feeling that Haas is not pleased with the Priests more than anything else.

Inara clears her though, subtly drawing everyone's attention. "Gentlemen, This has been a most regrettable evening. My name is Inara. This is my bodyguard, Remsfeld. I have already had the pleasure of meeting Radegast. However, at the moment, I have been shot, I'm mostly naked, and my cloak has been sacrificed to the God of bar fires. May he grant me three wishes. I am not going to freeze to death in a barmaids hut..."

Inara gives the barmaid a very flatting smile.

"No offense my dear, I just don't know you."

"Where are my manners, my dear lady?" Qwyn whips off his cloak with a practiced flourish and offers it to Inara. The cloak is of fine quality and quite warm.

"Please accept this until we are back at shelter. I can sympathize with your level of dress. I've spent more time naked and being treated like a pin-cushion in the last few days than I care to admit."

The bar wench Alyssa, who Q'wynn threw out the window, gives Inara a steely look. She too has been shivering in the cold. She throws her arms around Q'wynn.

"You can keep me warm, Sir!"

"Well met, all. Well met. I am Voss. This is my cleric friend Alion. Another old friend of Donal's. I'll share in that beer and warmth if it means having a chance to heal our wounds and avoid any more poison darts from this settlement."

Voss fingers his bow expectantly, as though he expects to be attacked at any moment.

"I suggest we move the horses and after-party to a different location, away from the flaming bar..." says Radegast. He takes the reins of his mule hauling the small wagon.

Q'wynn adds, "Now, let us be off, whether it is to the Sheraton or Alyssa's fine residence, the important thing is to get out of this storm so we can properly treat our wounded and avoid dying of exposure."

"Haas, Alyssa, I offer you our protection until this unfortunate turn of events is passed."

Qwyn flashes a smile. It's quite a fine smile. For an instant, the area feels just a tad bit warmer.

"Still staying here," says Haas.

"Staying with you," coos Alyssa.

Inara checks the dead Triplet. Once again there is a bow, quiver and long sword. All worth a second look at a later time. As she checks the body she continues to speak.

"Radegast please accompany back to my royal suite at the Tara Sheraton? I still have something for you. And no more disappearing, please. The halfingis coming with me so I can repay his saving my life. Alion, is it?... I hope you will come with us to help heal him. And so bring the
fat man, too... which means the tribesman will have to... oh damn it. Everyone come along. Just don't expect impressive rooms."

The Tribesman says to Inara , "and if you've got shelter, I gladly accept your invitation, no matter the state of the rooms. And perhaps under less duress we can start discussing why those clerics and their henchman would see us and the boy dead. My name is Stones by the way."

Stones looks at the halfling under the shroud. "I can heal him of that foul poison but not here. I'm ready to move when you are, just lead the way and I will follow. I've already had my fill of this godforsaken place."

Stones looks expectantly at Radegast. They put the halfling in the wagon, still covered by the shroud the dwarf put on him.

The young woman and the dwarf take ownership of two mules and wait for Radegast by his rolling brewery. The dwarf seems interested in the contents of said wagon.

"Soon enough, Remmy. When we get back to the suite," says Inara.

Remmy grunts acknowledgement.

Inara hands Qwyn his cloak as they prepare to start of, "gentlemen, there's one more person that needs to be checked. if you could cover me..."

She puts her hands on the wall to climb. The stone is already too hot. Whatever she was going to check on the roof, it is out of reach now.

"Ouch... she puts her fingers in the snow to cool them off.

Stones picks up Brind'amour onto one of the mules. Ronak stands protectively by him.

Voss and Q'wyn mount their horses. Q'wyn has almost no choice when Alyssa leaps on the horse behind him.

The group rolls out. Slowly. Very very slowly. The other bar maids staying behind with Haas.

Voss adds, "Wherever we're going, lead the way. Everyone keep your eyes and ears open. We're at war with Framingham..."

Weapons are at a ready. Remmy on a mule with his heavy sword out. Inara looking particularly alert, an arrow already knocked. Thanks to the heavy snow Stones is able to walk and keep up the group sans issue.

Radegast leads his mule, also traveling on foot.

The Road to the Tara
It is only 2.6 miles from the Happy Swallow to the Sheraton Tara. The snow continues to fall, the cold air crisply biting at your lungs.

The town is quiet after so much snow and the continual storms. The roads have not been shoveled, resulting in several hours of travel to the Sheraton Tara.

By the time you arrive your fingers are numb from exposure to the cold, nerves frayed from being on edge, and the only sounds Alyssa's kisses to Q'wyn's neck and Ronak's wheezing.

There are no incidents. Except the horrors that will never escape from your memories.

You see the Tara in the distance, a lone sentinel on a hill. Everyone near and far has heard of the oppulence of the Sheraton Tara. Guilded knobs, guilded tiles, and the most guilded people too.

Two stories of stone protrude from the hill. Those are the highest levels. The rest of the Sheraton Tara is actually PART of the hill itself, having been carved into the side by dwarves. It is the closest people can get to living in a castle without owning a castle.

It is now close to 1 am. Was it only eight hours ago that the black gates opened inward for your friend's funeral?

Inside the Tara
The group gets quite an odd look from the butlers and groomsmen as they enter the Tara Sheridan. The headman is exceedingly surprised at the appearance and condition of the woman. Several servants are motioned to tend to her immediately. She dismissively waves them away.

Inara has been here before. She does the talking.

"There is a mobile brewery outside. It needs to be locked up safely. There are horses and mules that are quite on edge that need to be cared for. We have wounded from an ambush--"

She nods towards the halfling under the shroud as Remmy carries him.

"The cleric has free passage to my suite at anytime," she nods toward Alion.

"Let's see if I have this correct... Qwyn, Alyssa, Alion, Radegast, and Voss. Please set them up in a servant group hall. I would like them to stay together for safety for right now. We're all a little shaken."

"These two," she points to Radegast and Stones will be accompanying me and Remmy to my suite to care for the wounded. They will rejoin the others later.

While speaking, Inara writes two missives for the courier at the front desk and sealing them with her necklace signet.

Radegast carries a keg of his best beer. A large tip takes care of any questions. The mules and horses are taken to the stables.

The Room
After a brief discussion about not splitting up everyone heads to Inara's room.

An unimpressive room? This is one of the largest rooms you have ever seen.

Inara's room already has a fire burning when you all enter. There is plenty of space for everyone. Remmy lays Elbeneth on the bed, removing the shroud.

Elbeneth's eyes are glazed over, his breathing still shallow though very much still alive.

Radegast taps the keg. From an elven cabinet Alion fishes out pewter mugs perfect for imbibing. For those who drink the beer this is easily the best ale you have ever had in your life.

Ronak musses the boys hair in a loving manner.

Ronak speaks, "My God, this is damn good. Though every good drink deserves a good tale. Though for this tale please reserve questions to the end. I am Ronak Rasheen, a Paladin of Cholme. Yes, I am a Paladin for those who just attacked us. If feels like..."

Ronak runs his finger along the pewter mug.

"...a lifetime ago. I was far more svelte when I began my life as a Paladin. I see skepticism on your faces. Deservedly snow. Sadness overwhelms a man in strange ways. My way was food and drink."

His sips Radegast's ale.

"I was a paladin of Cholme in New Hampshire, my job was to help transport children. Now before you slay me - it was the children of those who were enemies of Cholme. What war does not allow the victors to take slaves of all ages? We wanted to give these children better lives. Lives without violence. That we did. We did not see them as slaves. If a slave is born into a life and only knows goodness, is he truly a slave?"

Another sip. Whatever he is saying, however strange, he is telling the truth. He reaches into his shirt, taking out a symbol - a gray coin with a hole punched out in the middle where a plain steel chain runs through it.

"The symbol of Cholme. The steel chain is the simple forges that all men are capable of making. The coin for the gray areas that define all lives."

He turns the coin over as he continues to speak, "One side a smiling woman for the happiness we bring, a sad man for the pain in the world. So are the basic tenents of our religion."

Another sip.

"I met Donal three years ago, he spoke of losing his child and wife, it was Right before what Priests of Cholme call 'The Great Sweep.' I do not pretend to know why some men do what they
do. Only that the Priests called the closest friends of Donal enemies, turning upon them. Suresh. Dinah. Volan. All were killed. The most powerful allies the Priesthood had. All executed."

The Fat Paladin wipes a tear from his eye.

"I was to be Ordained for the Order of Sacrifice. Brought to Framingham for the passage--" his eyes are suddenly far away, as though looking into a time he can barely understand. "--A greedy man. The body of a good man. An innocent child. So I was told are the needs for sacrifice."

He laughs. A nervous laugh that has no pleasure behind it.

"Donal's friend Suresh was the body of a good man. I recognized him immediately. I met him several time. A good fair man. It is said he could have run away when he died. He died so others may live. That is honor few people know."

He goes to drink more of his ale. The cup is empty, he tips it so he can look inside. Anything to avoid looking at you.

"Together the Priesthood took them into the temple and--and--and--the innocent child - slave or not - THAT is not just. They sacrificed them all to a portal, all together. I can't pretend to understand that part. What I did understand is that it trapped the souls - that the dead could not continue to the afterlife."

He takes a deep breath.

"I grew fat on my conflict as I turned my eyes away. I met Donal once in that time. He spoke of losing his own son. He had no idea the Priests had taken his friends. When I met Brind'amour. Who knows how many lies this world contains?"

This time it is a sigh. So many conflicting emotions from this man.

"I took Brind out of slavery. Away from certain death. When Donal died...unwise as it was every child should have a chance to meet his father. I did not expect anyone would know us in Framingham. I was gravely wrong on that account. I thank you for saving us."

He pauses one last time.

"I hope I have not bored you. Every good drink needs a good story. We will be gone in the morning."