Lazarus Oathbearer

"To answer the other question, neither. Here - I came about the gambling den."

Which was here listed at this address, and for the shutdown of which there was a fair reward promised.

"It's a helmet, actually. So... I suppose not, since I don't take it off in a fight."

The Halfling doesn't seem to be a threat, so he lowers his shield and his blade. He stows the latter so he can pull a crumpled bundle of paper from his belt, pulled clean from the jobs board.

He'll have to dig through his bags in the morning, learn their contents. Before or after the meeting...

His eyes fall shut without urging from him, but his mind won't yet slow for a moment of peace.

"Hey - how are [you] holding up? I can't imagine today's conversation wasn't stressful for you."

as he thinks over the best place for such an important artifact. He finally places it under his pillow, and with the rest of his armor removed and set aside, he settles down on the bed in the clothes he wore beneath it. It's the last of what he woke in.

"I'm not sure if that makes sense. Everything today revealed more I don't understand, and few questions ever found an answer. I felt like a... well, a...

...I suppose I don't know what I felt like."

Is it exhaustion he feels, or defeat? The blade Percy had left with him feels heavy in his hand

He turns his back to allow her her own quiet moment to tend to herself, placing his unfamiliar belongings on the bed opposite hers. He starts with his cloak; with a thought, he reaches up and hangs it from the rafters, that they might have some semblance of privacy.

"I feel..."

How [did] he perceive it? So many things to sort through, and he didn't know how to begin. How could he, when he himself seemed to have no beginning?

Only legends he couldn't recall and an ending that sounded so strange.

"...I feel like I blinked and everything happened, all at once."

(This is [certainly] not a wise idea. There are people relying on him, and if he should vanish...

...then again, he has no notion where he is [now,] so he's no use to them anyway. Praying to his goddess for safety and luck, he steps in after the young man.)

(He nearly looses his helmet as he jolts forward to race after him.

...This [may] not be a wise idea, but at least he'll be moving.)

Uhhh....

got lost

"Found it."

Flat in the dirt.

"Twas tied to the other."

"...careful with the roast."

"I think I lost a bootlace? While cooking dinner?"

Though," he shot her a wrary smile when next he caught her eye, "I suppose I don't know what a short day looks like, anyway."

They neared the door marked on the key, and after unlocking their room, he stepped inside and scanned the space before making room for her to enter.

snuffs away quickly. His odd, out-of-place wings shift and refold uncomfortably.

With a hint of guilt in his heart, he marks that the knight's appearance was lucky; without it, it would have taken a miracle for him to stay alert through the conversation downstairs.

"Hm? Oh - of course.

'Long' seems such an inadequate word for this day - months, it felt, but then he had no other day to compare against. His yawn follows soon after hers. Half a step behind her, the drift of her tailtip has an almost hypnotic effect. The last of the energy he'd found in the chaos downstairs

"I am glad to hear it. I did, before all the fireworks started." He kept his voice hushed to avoid disturbing the knight, but the low tone of it still carried. Now, he withdraws from his pocket... one key?

He frowns.

"She said she was giving me two, I thought. Perhaps she meant two beds?"

It's not all too long before the crusader joins knight and bard, knocking gently on the door and peering inside. He's relieved when his eyes find her.

"Couldn't remember if the healer said the door on the left or the right, I was afraid I'd walk in on– Oh," he falls quiet when he sees the knight.

at his side.

"Goodnight, Eshenesra. And... thank you. For the insight, I mean. You've all given me a lot to think about."

...He's not really sure how to leave after that, other than saying goodnight again. He simply collects his helm and the staff and strides towards the stairs.

His gaze flits after Miri, an apology on his tongue - but he decides against it, instead offering a nod.

"Aye, but if anything happens in the night, I'll be ready." Somehow. This time when he shifts the object's shape, it's with greater focus, and it becomes a simple quarterstaff to carry

Releasing a breath he didn't know he'd held, he nods again, more confident in his answer.

"Alright. I will stay and rest. Should I...?" He gets to his feet, a questioning look cast towards Esra, unsure if he should keep the shield for the moment.

Leaning on what he did have, of those brief recollections - both from Esra and the few that had returned - he lets his first thought sculpt the artifact.

Beneath his palm, it grows and bends into a dome that shunts nearby objects away. When the change is complete, a simple shield lies before them.

had offered it form seemingly without thought, as if they knew their weapon as well as they knew themselves.

So what would it become in his hands? The question that had plagued him all day and well, now, into the night: What sort of man was he?

His hand hovers, then lays flat against its hilt.

"I can't say you don't make a fair point. [There's] a troubling thought..."

He looks over the form of the dagger, searching, wondering. He carries more than a few weapons himself, checked over when he woke, none sparking any sudden familiarity over the others. The hunter and the dragonborn

He gestures vaguely to himself, "I mean, going it alone could prove fatal."

"...I think she has a point. I'm not at my best– or maybe I am, I wouldn't know. But you would," Lazarus counters, glancing briefly his way. "Know me, I mean. I'm no stranger if [I] know who you are.

Not to point out the obvious, but..."

He had already pushed Esra once; he was not keen to do so again by forging onward in his current state. He was sure Tabitha would not be the sort to let such a brash decision go without comment.

Still, when he answers, he ducks his head apologetically, wavering.

Maybe there's defenses I could invest in before we face it again."

His eyes settle on Percy. He wouldn't join unless the hunter allowed it, though he decided then and there he'd have to find means of researching the creature if he was refused.