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The next morning, Grumm will arrive bright and early.

"I was thinking about that horn we found. I wonder if some monastery or temple in the area wouldn't be interested in it. Even if they don't want to buy it, perhaps they could provide some clue about its origins."

OOC: No Sir you did not roll yet, that should be one for Timorel, and then I guess we could throw one on Shybolt in the morning. I probably went to my room already but since I would be up praying for awhile I would be available should Timorel yell for assistance.

Solomoriah wrote:Timorel helped Shybolt wash away the blood from his hands and face, but as soon as they had done so, blood continued trickling from his eyes and ears and nose.

"I don't like this at all, but there's nothing else we can do tonight. Maybe in the morning we can find someone who can remove curses, or cure diseases, or who knows something about what this is," Timorel says. He will then go to his room, clean his sword, and sleep for whatever is left of the night.

Shybolt swaddled his head with clean rags to catch the flow of blood, found a bite to eat and then went to sleep for the night wondering if the clerics healing powers would be able to staunch the bleeding in the morning.

In the morning, the first thing Timorel does is check to see whether Shybolt is still bleeding and if he appears to show any signs of significant blood loss (pale, sweaty, weak, etc.).

Then he wants to ask the innkeeper how long they were gone.

Brother Arven will pray for divine guidance concerning the statue room and for healing of poor retched little Shybolt.

Brother Arven's spell heals 6 points for Timorel.

Grumm awakened later than he had planned, and dragging himself out of bed, trudged down to the inn for breakfast. What he found there was a handful of other locals, pounding on the door.

The sound of someone knocking on the door awakened Timorel first; even as he arose, Shybolt and Brother Arven also got themselves out of bed. Going downstairs, they found the inn dark, the fire out in the kitchen hearth, and no one about. But someone was pounding on the door.

Arven hurries to the door and unlatches and opens it. He looks around in the light now streaming through the door, does any thing look amis in the common room? He thinks to himself about that book he read last year by Brother Stephen King that gave him the willys every night for a month.

Timorel prepares to cast Sleep in case those knocking are less than friendly.

Shybolt has a momentary crisis of identity then springs from his sleep, wipes bllod from his vision and pulls his bow. "Whats going on?"