Chapter One: Sweet Dreams are Made of These

[Brian]

Parthipan decides to turn in after studying his book for a bit, as well.

You all sleep ... thankfully, you've got warm cloaks, to ward off the chill.

You wake up feeling stiff, a bit achy, but at least well rested.  Liandral either didn't sleep, or got more than enough sleep in ... however long it's been.  Currently, the sun is shining right through the doorway, though it's even lower than ever, about 1/3rd hidden behind the horizon now.

[Dracos]

Dracos spends the first moments of wakefulness stretching out, getting the blood flowing properly again in his limbs.

"So, which shall be the groups?  One down one path and one another.  Bjorn, Parthipan, the lady, and Paul in one group...and Myself, Nathan, and Liandril as the other?"

Dracos

[Bjorn]

The first thing Bjorn does, upon awakening, is to head outside the building to look for any sign of the army or outriders -- and, incidentally, to relieve himself.  

Assuming he doesn't see anything, though, he returns back to the building, and starts rationing out a breakfast.  He does it quietly, though, letting those who are still asleep rest a little longer.

But when Dracos speaks, he says, "That's a bit lopsided for fighting capability, I think."

[Brian]

Stirring from behind the statue and finally emerging from her cloak, the lady frowns.  "I would hesitate to put that much of worth in a single group.  I think...."  She pauses, then nods.  "You are correct, Sir Bloom.  I apologize.  I suggest only that you carry with you the draughts of life.  Should we fall, those can still be used.  And ... otherwise ... I should be able to fill that gap."  She doesn't seem quite as confident as she's trying to act.

[Rezantis]

Rez gives Bjorn a flat look and taps his sword twice.

[Rezantis]

"No, seriously. If you have better suggestions, raise them."

[Dracos]

"We shall guard them with our lives.  May fortune and the light of Hammar smile upon your path."

Dracos glanced at the others in a 'ready to go?' fashion.

Dracos

[Bjorn]

Bjorn grimaces slightly.  Shit.  No bows.  Forgot.  "None much better," he admits.  "Must all the draughts go together, though?"

[Brian]

"We can take three of them," the lady conceeds.  "Sir Bloom and his entourage should cary the remaining ten."

[Bjorn]

Bjorn nods, and then digs in his pack for the potions.  Realizing he only has one sack full of sawdust, he takes three vials out, and wraps them tightly in the clothes contained in the sack.  Then he passes the pouch with the remaining ten to Nathan.

[Brian]

Liandral walks towards the middle of the hall, to where a great opening can be seen, leading down into the depths of this passage.

You couldn't see it before, as it was too dark, but with the light shining into the room now, it's visible.  It's probably about twenty meters high, arched, and forty meters wide.  You're not sure, but it looks like there are stairs leading down from that point.  The ceiling inside the arch slopes downward, at least.

[Dracos]

Dracos sees about distributing the ten for them among himself, Liandril, and Nathan, so they aren't all in one hold.  "We should all carry some, so that if one of us falls, there is no risk of them all being lost."

Dracos

[Brian]

Liandral snorts.  "If one of us falls, I should think all of us will fall," he says dryly.  "But, as you say."  He takes a few steps further, and the little spark over his head brightens a bit.  "There are two passages.  One leading to the left, and one to the right.  I'd dare a guess that the one on the right looks to go deeper.  Which shall we take, Sir Bloom?"

[Huitzil]

"I still think splitting up is a bad idea. There aren't police here, a public to hide in, planes or buses to travel in, or e-mail to communicate with. If we split up, we halve our pool of resources, and we halve the chances of either group to live through whatever it is we find between here and there. Ezm... we were told that there have to be five. We're five parts to a single unit now, and it won't work without all of its parts.

"We keep together, we protect the Draughts of Life, and we protect each other. If we split up and one group is caught, and one group is killed, we lose. That's it. We may bring the some of the Draughts to the Keep and save it for the time being, but then it's over. We won't be saving anywhere else. We won't be travelling to the next spot. We will have failed, we will be fucked. If we have any slim margin of power with which to fight the Enemy, to fight off evil, it will be dead. We have to go in one group, because one loss is as bad as all."

[Bjorn]

"I don't understand three quarters of what you said," Bjorn says evenly, with a heavy glare.  "But the only thing that matters is getting the draughts through.  If we all go together, and we all go down the wrong path, then we all die, and we fail.  If we split up, then there is a chance that at least some of us might get through.  It doesn't matter," he adds an emphasis to his words, "if we all live, so long as some of us survive."