A tale of two tentacles

Well, that wasn't terribly helpful. Jason stepped back from the crowd and headed into the demolished inn once more. Thankfully, there was no sign of the PC he'd nearly killed. He passed some drunkard, helping himself to the now unclaimed booze... and began shamelessly helping himself to the now unclaimed contents of the stockroom. Everything from dried meats and cheeses to some of the cookware used to prepare it went into his nearly empty inventory. He even searched the dead innkeeper's body and pocketed a small sack of gold.

"For what it's worth, I never disliked you... Indeed, I almost feel as though we'd crossed paths in a previous life and were once good friends. But if that's the case, it was in another lifetime," he said to the corps.

On his way out, he helped himself to a bottle grog that the drunkard hadn't yet gotten to.

"We all escape our sorrows in our own way, my friend. Who's to say that your's is any less honorable than mine?" he said patting the man on the shoulder and sliding a fresh bottle his way.

Then he left.

'Coward,' Snagga's low pitched, serpentine voice hissed into his mind.

"I pick my fights. And what they're up against is too great a foe," Jason said.

'There once resided within your chest the heart of a warrior. How broken you've become,' Snagga said.

Jason did not respond. He just hung his head and continued to walk, putting as much distance between himself and the Fellowship as he could.

"Run away now and it doesn't matter because you'll never stop running," Snagga said.

He stopped in his tracks. The cursed sword was right.

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Back at the inn
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"I can't remember...," Cyndel was saying in a fit of annoyance. "But my Tower is a day east of here."

"Familiar territory would put us at a tactical advantage, should the Litch attack again. What kind of fortifications does it have? Any permanent wards?" Jason asked as the pair approached.

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