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[SaberToothTiger]

The bartender asks you for the down payment for your rooms. Due to the tournament, you won't find other places to live in town...

[My Name is Immaterial]

Guilhayl Aber:
Would you still like to buy all those items?
You regain 9 HP.
(You guys are getting good CLW rolls.)

[Tawa]

No.

At least not the wagons and stuff. Still buying the Crossbow of Punching Straight Through Low-Constitution Fighters and the ammo.

[GiglameshDespair]

If I got injured, Mutt will take the heal.
Make the payment for the room.

Mutt sat in the room and closed his eyes, beginning to mediate.
Sorceror, indeed... he knew a little of spellcraft, of cours: one of his intellect picked up a lot of things. But he refused to ever cast a spell, though he'd probably be capable.

Pah. These vile hunters... still as one of them, at least he'd be out of the cell and the dark.

[Criptfeind]

"Well, that seems reasonable, how much are the rooms in this establishment?"

Pathseeker wondered who we will be fighting tomorrow will be. Hopefully they are a step up from our opponents thus far. If this is all the lowlander can offer for the hunt he won't be impressed.

((Edit:

He stared at Pathseeker, wondering if he was being sarcastic or if he was genuinely that ignorant.

Aw, that's not fair.  ))

[SaberToothTiger]

That'd be a gold piece per day, due to the tournament. I'm open for bargain.

[Criptfeind]

The Goliath shrugs his massive shoulders. "A gold piece is far too high a price, especially when I am more used to sleeping out on the open ground anyway. Although I was looking for comfort this night, I'm not in need of it for that price. Perhaps I could afford it for, say, five silver?"

[AlleeCat]

Aela stumbles in, blood dripping from the wound she tried to wrap in a fabric bandage. "Hey guys? My... head feels... funny..." She falls to the floor, slipping out of consciousness. A closer look at her wound would reveal some common herbs usually used in a home remedy to relieve pain in small cuts and bruises.

[Tawa]

The Goliath shrugs his massive shoulders. "A gold piece is far too high a price, especially when I am more used to sleeping out on the open ground anyway. Although I was looking for comfort this night, I'm not in need of it for that price. Perhaps I could afford it for, say, five silver?"

Guilhayl nods his head in agreement.

Aela stumbles in, blood dripping from the wound she tried to wrap in a fabric bandage. "Hey guys? My... head feels... funny..." She falls to the floor, slipping out of consciousness. A closer look at her wound would reveal some common herbs usually used in a home remedy to relieve pain in small cuts and bruises.

"Aela!"
Guilhayl runs over and kneels next to her.
"I don't... I don't have any spells... I hadn't anticipated... help! Somebody!"

[Criptfeind]

"What? Did she not take the healing offered? Aela? Damn it! Does anyone know any medicine? Or have access to healing magic?"

He moves over to her.

"Damn, when did she take this wound? I didn't remember in the heat of the battle!"

[SaberToothTiger]

Run for a medicus!

[Tawa]

Guilhayl dashes out of the inn, looking for an apothecary selling a Potion of Cure Light Wounds.

[SaberToothTiger]

Buy it, pay both in what cash I have on me and in promise I pay it back later, as this is an emergency!

[Harbingerjm]

Returning to the inn, X'ithzol nearly stumbles over a heavily injured, collapsed human.
Shrugging, he turns and heads out again, looking for a cleric.
If the human can pay for their own healing afterwards, all the better. If not, well, gold for goodwill is usually a good trade, and especially so here where the Hunt seems to have decided that they don't want potential applicants dying.

[My Name is Immaterial]

Guilhayl Aber:
(Gather Information: 20+4)
Directly across the street is an apothecary, fully stocked with CLW potions, at a 50% discount! What a coincidence!

A Very Nice Bartender:
Slamming the coins on the counter, and dashing back across the street, you administer the potion to the young woman. Her wounds knit closed, and she regains 3 HP.

X'ithzol:
You are about to leave to find a cleric, when the bartender almost collides with you, holding a red potion, which he feeds to the human. Hold on... isn't that the Goliath from last night? It is! Which means that you caught the end of this group's fight. There's the man in the pointy hat, the woman on the floor, and the chained one looking on from a distance.
What a coincidence!