The Morning of the 15th - Firesday - The Righteous Rest

It was going to be a glorious day; the clouds which had covered the moon last night had already dispersed into the warm morning air, their last pink traces disappearing as the sun rose above the eastern hills.

In the Righteous Rest, Abernathy hummed softly to himself, as he cleared away the last of the newcomers' clutter. Mugs and cups had to be washed out, half-finished plates of food needed to be scrubbed clean. He smiled wanly as he turned a half-finished glass of wine over into a bucket, watching the floating bits of back-washed food swirl about.

''I need to hire a night cleaner. With all these new explorers, I might just be able to pay one again.''

--

The sun was quite a bit higher in the air when Roderik came shuffling into the Tavern, his grey hair poking out from beneath his worn scarlet cap. Abernathy greeted the halfling warmly, joining him at the usual corner table, breakfast beer and plate of eggs in hand.

"Well, have you heard? New blood in town. Got a band of them staying here, as a matter of fact."

"Is that right? Hm...most interesting." The halfling munched his eggs thoughtfully, glancing around the empty tavern. "Late risers, from the looks of it!"

Abernathy grimaced and thought about the bucket in the back. "Well, they had a late night. Afraid I went to bed before the last of them did." He leaned back in his chair, taking a large swig from his foamy mug. "They are as odd a bunch as ever you saw. I think Jeruh would have liked them."

Roderik glanced up from his eggs, but only for a moment. Abernathy's son was still a sore topic for him. He quickly changed it, "So, this group - think they will do for the Society?"

Abernathy shrugged. "Some might. Between the lizard, your kindred, a couple dwarves, and more mages than I've ever seen in one place, you might get a handful of them."

Roderik beamed through a mouthful of egg, "I already did last night! A big burly dwarf. Claimed to be a smith. He was all but broke, but seemed willing to take the Colors. I put him on a trial period."

The elderly barkeep nodded. "Well, I'll try to send the rest your way. The Pathfinders aren't what they used to be. I'm sure you'll take what you can get." Finishing his beer, he made his way back to the bar. As he did, he glanced up at his son's tabard, and smiled.

''Don't worry, my boy. They'll do you proud.''