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[TheBiggerFish]

An excellent proposition, miss! But, I must ask, how did you recognize me as nobility? I do not look regal like this, all covered in filth and fungus. By the by, who leads Greenest? Perchance the name will ring a bell, if they are one of my vassals," he ponders, brushing his hair into a very slightly more dignified look.

"A man by the name of mayor Nighthill.

Also, they say true nobility shines through any hardship! "

"Your behavior does seem to place you amongst the nobility."

[My Name is Immaterial]

An excellent proposition, miss! But, I must ask, how did you recognize me as nobility? I do not look regal like this, all covered in filth and fungus. By the by, who leads Greenest? Perchance the name will ring a bell, if they are one of my vassals," he ponders, brushing his hair into a very slightly more dignified look.

"A man by the name of mayor Nighthill.
Also, they say true nobility shines through any hardship!"

"Hmm. No, I do not believe I am familiar with a Nighthill." In response to Johanna's second sentence, he smiles, very pleased with himself.

"Your behavior does seem to place you amongst the nobility."

The halfling distinctly ignores Adrik's sass.

[TheBiggerFish]

That was not, in fact, sass.

[Dwarmin]

The halfling distinctly ignores Adrik's sass.

"Forgive my rude peasant friend! He forgets that one must not speak to a member of nobility without proper linguistic padding, in relation to their breeding of course, but instead speak about them-as one must comment on the fury of a storm, or the temper of a blade!

Speaking of speaking to Nobles, by and by, would Lord Underbough be familiar with my own family and our lineage? We're still quite wealthy." Johanna said, channeling her innate noble smugness to it's rarely seen heights.

[My Name is Immaterial]

"Forgive my rude peasant friend! He forgets that one must not speak to a member of nobility without proper linguistic padding, in relation to their breeding of course, but instead speak about them-as one must comment on the fury of a storm, or the temper of a blade!"

"How right you are! It is so refreshing to finally speak with another member of the upper classes after so much dealings with the peasantry. It's reinvigorating, like a goblet of coffee. I imagine you don't get many chances to speak with other nobility, no?"

"Speaking of speaking to Nobles, by and by, would Lord Underbough be familiar with my own family and our lineage? We're still quite wealthy." Johanna said, channeling her innate noble smugness to it's rarely seen heights.

The halfling takes a closer look at Johanna's coat of arms embroidered on her sleeve. He rummages through his pockets, producing a monocle to examine it closer.
"Hmm. I don't believe I recognize your house's arms. Correct me if I am at fault, but your arms are contemporary, are they not? Your house was born after the Time of Troubles? Many a house was born since the gods walked among us."

[Dwarmin]

"Hmm. I don't believe I recognize your house's arms. Correct me if I am at fault, but your arms are contemporary, are they not? Your house was born after the Time of Troubles? Many a house was born since the gods walked among us."

"At least in the last hundred years or so, indeed."

[My Name is Immaterial]

The party follows wagon tracks, likely left in the desertion of the camp, and after half an hour of travel, they turn to the north. This leaves a conundrum: should they travel north, following the tracks, or return to Greenest? After all, the party does have a map that shows the route the cultists are taking, so they can pick up the trail easily.

[TheBiggerFish]

"Well then.  What do you all think?"

[FelixSparks]

Arwen shakes his head, sighing. "Normally, I'd say after them, but with my ribs..." He poked one, hissing in pain. "Yeah, with my ribs probably broken, I'm gonna vote we head back to town to recover and see if anyone knows this halfling."

[Dwarmin]

"Also, we're carrying all this vendor trash with us. We should find someone to pawn it off on." Johanna comments, poking the purple clad prisoner with her hammer.

[TheBiggerFish]

"Ach.  Indeed."

[Culise]

"I, too, would prefer not to travel too far into danger while in the company of our prisoner or our exalted guest."

[My Name is Immaterial]

The rest of the trip is easy enough. The prisoner is silent, but cooperative. The Halfling is chipper, and feels much better as the afternoon wanes. The pain in Arwen's broken chest has solidified into a sharp, piercing pain.

It's almost nightfall by the time the party crests a hill, spotting the cheery lights of cookfires and lanterns bobbing around the small town. It's a little strange to see Greenest when it's not on fire. The bright lights sweeping the streets of the town promise safety, rest, healing, and a warm belly of food. The party summons one last burst of strength, and pushes on, down the hill.

To be continued.

[Dwarmin]

That night at dinner!

Johanna waved a fat turkey leg for emphasis as she retold stories of their adventures to a no-doubt interested audience.


"...So then I said, in a commanding voice ~"It's over, sir. Your ally is felled, and you are now by yourself. With a mere flick of my finger I could roast you to dust and cooked meat-it would really be a simple thing. Fire is not a good death, not a warriors end. Better to toss down your arms, and live to fight tomorrow...this choice, is entirely yours.

Of course, he continued to whimper in the grips of my powerful illusion, unable to withstand the AWESOME might of my spell upon his feeble lizard worshiping mind!

"Please, spare me! I surrender!'" He squeaked at last, his weapon clattering to the ground with a cowardly clang.

...Yes, it's all true! I single handedly defeated a deadly and experienced cultist warrior-he is languishing in your dungeons at this moment-without laying so much of a finger on him, or even truly harming a hair on his head. I suppose he'll be having nightmares for some time, however-my spell was real enough to him!-but surely, it's a small price to pay for his crimes..."

Johanna thought privately to herself-depending on the strength of the mans mind-he might have in fact been driven completely insane by his experience, unable to trust his own grasp on reality anymore.

Of course, that wasn't her problem, she thought, taking a bite of turkey.

[My Name is Immaterial]

Three humans, a dwarf, an elf, a half-elf, and a delusional halfling walk into a bar.
Wait, no, that's not how this one goes.
*flip flip flip*
Ah, here we are.
Five adventurers walk into a flying castle.
Damn, that's not it either.
*flipping in the opposite direction*
Alright, I think I've got it this time.
Three humans, a dwarf, an elf, a half-elf, and a delusional halfling walk into a quiet little town named Greenest, beleaguered from an exhausting day, the third of its kind in immediate succession.
One of the humans is doing his best to disguise the fact that he's clutching his chest in pain, and the second is closely watching the third, who is bound roughly. The dwarf is absentmindedly running her fingers along the spine of an old, worn book. The half-elf walks gently, reverently, as if they don't deserve each step, or if their feet will shatter if they step too hard. The elf is very quiet, keeping their eyes peeled, taking in the night in all of its detail. A cold winter chill sets in as the DM remembers that it's supposed to be the middle of February as night falls over the peaceful little town.
The halfling says "What is this, some sort of joke?"

Anyway!

The town guard is out in force tonight, wary of any follow-up raids or discontent in the streets. The party barely makes it to the edge of town before they are intercepted by a patrol, two youths and a grey-bearded dwarf. The heavy leather and thick, padded cloth of the guards' uniform sits awkwardly on their shoulders; it's likely they're fresh recruits. After a bit of verbal bowing and scraping, they rush the group to the keep.
After an hour changing out of sweat and bloodstained clothes and armor and bathing, along with some preliminary medical attention, two humans, a dwarf, an elf, a half-elf, and a delusional halfling sit at Governor Nighthill's table, enjoying what little he could muster on such short notice. Apparently, their return had interrupted a meeting between the governor and a small handful of prominent citizens; landowners, merchants, and local leaders, so there is a small group of people at dinner, hanging on their every word. The topic of conversation is, of course, the adventurers' adventures. Johanna kicked off the retelling, but each member of the returned expedition is pressed to tell their own tale from their time in the cave.
Even though Johanna's story was HEAVILY embellished, the mere 'retelling' of the story inspired Johanna. +450 XP! Inspired!