Jal, left alone =( by the rest of the volounteers, spent a few seconds looking around at the other tables from his perch, then jumped the two feet that separated him from the ground, and set set off to meet with a more-or-less entirely unexcited-looking wizard. As Jal made his way to him, the wizard spoke a few words with a savage, but just-looking fellow drinking from his tankard. The fellow in question was a solid two Jals tall, which almost made the halfling stop in his tracks. He figured **** it, however, and persevered, extending a hand to the wizard.

"Hello, er, colleague. Doing well, yeah? I'm Jal. People usually call me Shortcloak, but..." Jal squinted at the (minuscule) gnome in a way that could only pass as inconspicuous if the room was empty, or very drunk. "I'm not sure it'll stick around here."

"WHY YES, MY MOST FINE FRIEND; I SAW A MUDCRAB TODAY."

Folevarr, realizing that someone was talking to him from behind, spun in his seat to face Jal whose hand was outreached.

"Oh. Uh," Folevarr extended his arm to shake Jal's hand. "Nice to meet you, Shortcloak. My name is Folevarr, an ex-member of the Tumadre Esfeo guild of Gray Vale." Folevarr turned his head to see what Jal was squinting at and saw the irritating image of the suspiciously gay (HAPPY) gnome. "Yes, I... see what you mean. " Folevarr began shaking again, from excitement, though mildly.

Sakura saw suspicion in Pookie's eyes, which was a clue enough that he wasn't completely stupid. She thus decided to tell the truth, and leaned closer.

"Everyone here but us is....uh....lacking. That Folevarr guy thinks halflings are gnomes; an insult to you, of course. That halfling looks like he's ready to kill you at the first strike. I don't think I need to say anything about the big guy. The guy next to him is a raging alcoholic. The barbarian doesn't like elves; he kept shooting me the evil eye. So we all know he's a failure."

So yeah, we're pretty much ****ed. I would say we should just handle the mission ourselves, but I'm a cleric and you're a bard, so they won't work. Do we really have to support these guys?"

Doran stared blankly at Worf as he told his apparent tale of great justice, and took a few moments before figuring out how to continue.

"I see. Terrible creatures, really. I try to avoid them when I can. Perhaps you have a more fitting tale for me and the other friends who have gathered around our table... unlike the elf with poor reading comprehension and oddly brave gnome off plotting in the corner."

Looking over his shoulder, he notices that a cloaked Halfling and a rather disheveled young wizard are engaging in a conversation of some sort. Seeing as he is out of the loop, he decided to join in. With a hearty laugh, he started off with an uproar:

"Hey comrades! Name's Adonis, and I'm really pleased to meet you guys."

"WHY YES, SORRY; I DO SOMETIMES VEER A BIT FROM THE SIDE OF JUSTICE (HAHA WHO AM I KIDDING I'M A ****ING PALADIN), BUT NO MATTER. MY TALES OF JUSTICE ARE LONG AND NOBLE; WHERE SHOULD I START, MY FRIEND?" Worf took a deep drink of his brew, swishing it around a bit in his mouth before swallowing it. "AH YES, HOW ABOUT THE TIME I SLEW AN OGRE BARE HANDED? OR THE TIME I RID A TOWN OF ITS KOBOLD INVADERS? OR EEEEEEVEN," Worf said with a wink, "THE TIME I BEAT DRIZZT DO'URDEN IN AN ARM WRESTLING CONTEST?"

Pookie shrugged. The elf's concerns were relatively well-founded, but honestly the group looked like they would make great meat-shields despite not being the brightest people in the world.

"It's better than dying here when the hostel is inevitably set on fire. And I really wouldn't trust going off with an elf alone. I'm not stupid."

Pookie stood up, done with the plotting elf for now. He figured that the rest of the group would be more amenable to discussion that wouldn't inevitably turn toward how awesome elves were.

Doran, finding that Worf seemed more content talking about the tales he had to tell rather than actually telling them, and that his mug was now empty, decided it was in his best interest to call it a night for the sake of narrative advancement.

"Sorry, my large, brave comrade, but your surely impressive tales will have to wait for another day."

Now that the two more disgusting races of the group had decided they were no longer above the rest, he took some time to introduce himself to the members of the group he had not yet spoken to. He didn't especially care about any of them (except that Worf guy had an odd, idiotic charm), so he simply exchanged names and headed back to his room, skipping backstory time because he's just that god damn mysterious.

Accepting the fact that these people knew all about him that needed to be known (by which he meant only Doran but clearly also meant everyone despite the fact he'd only talked to Doran but clearly everyone knew everything about him otherwise also runons), Worf downed the rest of his ale and finished the bit he had left in his other mug, then finally threw the tavern wench he'd been talking to before over his shoulder and despite an initial voice of protest lead her to his room where funny sounds were subsequently heard.

After talking with Adonis and Jal for a bit, Folevarr decided it was time to go to bed. He told the people of the hostel goodnight and picked up his staff and bag which were left beside his half-full mug. On his way to his room, where no one could see him, Folevarr shot his arms up in joy, quietly whispering "Huzzah!". Folevarr went inside his room, threw his belongings in a corner and leapt onto bed where he would have hard times sleeping on (because he is just so excited).

Introductions made, acquaintances met, and ale gone, the adventurers retired to their rooms for the night.

-+-+-

Their windows slowly filling with the faintest bit of morning light, and a faint knocking on each of their doors, the adventurers begin to stir and wake. Adventure awaited them, and they would reach it on the wagon outside.

Having eaten a quick meal, they assemble in the spacious wagon where each adventurer finds an additional ration pack. The ox-driven wagon sets off towards the forest in the east, where the more observant of observers would notice that the typical view of a rising sun and rampant vegetation was somewhat obscured by a dense fog that seemed to hang over the area.

Odin, driving the cart, noted to the party:

"I can't really see the forest for the trees. How do you folks think we should approach this, what's our plan of attack?"

"I would be willing to scout ahead, perhaps with another member fit for the task." Doran offered as he glanced back at the group, specifically avoiding eye contact with Worf, and pausing on the halfling.

Ha! Now's my chance to know this fella a bit more. I mean, him and I, in a forest... alone!

Though eager to join up with this mysterious-looking avenger, he is, however, reluctant to even raise his hand in agreeing to volunteer. Nonetheless, he has achieved in lifting his arm long enough to make Doran notice.

Folevarr had calmed down from his excitement from last night. His extreme excitement seemed to had come from lack of sleep.

"Perhaps the stealthiest member of our group should go along with you? ...I could go with you too. My magic can help us retreat if we were to fall into any danger."