The next morning…

As a typical morning in a village would have it, a call is heard. Not any call of course, it's a rooster call, a call to awaken the populace of its hometown. It is, as per usual, not appreciated by the general population, some less than others. The least appreciative group of people are, but of course, the ones nursing a hangover from the previous nights’ festivities.

The morning for these gents is a sluggish and pain filled task, some waking up leaning on the bar, some on the floor, some on tables, one is even waking in the outhouse. Perhaps the worst one out of all of them is the half-ling who woke up hanging from the chandelier and promptly falling off and breaking a table.

As it would be expected, our party members all wake up in their respective rooms either insufficiently, partially or completely clothe. Drazdan who was laying on his stomach, shirt off and drooling all over his pillow isn’t awoken by the rooster, but by a familiar scream instead. Xandarrs’ scream, who is once again running out of his room covered in slimy fluids while running down the stairs to clean himself off. This time, however, the drow in his bed decided to sleep in and stayed under the dirty covers.

As for Marcus, he is laying on top of his covers in full plate armor hugging his sword when the scream is heard, and he attempts to jump into action but is interrupted by his very own killer hangover, forcing him to get intimate with the floor boards in his room.

The metallic thud was the 3rd signal of the beginning of a new day in the tavern. This thud woke up the leftover guests who hadn’t managed to wake up at the previous signals. Prompting all of them to slowly lift their heads off their respective solid perches and realize that yes they are still at the tavern, yes they are late to work, and they are most definitely in trouble with their wives. And so most of them slowly file out of the tavern.

The ones that stayed in the tavern made their way towards the bar for either breakfast, a cup of water or some more ale.

Out in the hallway on the second floor, a tired Drazdan knocks on Marcus’ door.

“Are you okay in there, buddy?” he asks through the closed door.

All he hears is a faint mumble from the room.

‘Tsk, he just had to drink that much, didn’t he.’

“I’m coming in…” he says loud enough to be heard in the room.

As he opens the door, Drazdan sees a massive pile of armor next to the bed, but no Marcus.

“Huh, odd… I was sure I heard him mumble something. Maybe he’s already downstairs.” he says to no one in particular as he closes the door behind him.

A low whimper is heard from the pile of armor as he closes the door, unfortunately for Marcus, Drazdan didn’t hear it, and he shall need to rely only on himself.

As Drazdan was making his way down the staircase, a familiar bear ran up the stairs and was headed towards Xandarrs’ room…

‘Well… At least he isn’t running around naked this time…’

Once he made it downstairs, he noticed the gigantic mess their little party created… Not including the knocked out Half-ling laying in the middle of a broken table.

‘I hope Xandarr made enough money to pay for this… ‘Cause I sure as hell ain’t spotting him.’

On this thought, he sits down on a stool at the bar and awaits a waitress to take his order. He doesn’t have to wait long before Brenda struts up from the kitchen with a mixture of a gleeful smile and bags under her eyes, showing her obvious lack of sleep.

“Good morning, Honey.” she says as she puts down a cup of water, soup and a carrot in front of the bunny.

“Good morning to you too, Brenda, hope we didn’t hinder your sleep too much.” he says before taking a sip of his drink.

“Well… You sure as hell didn’t waste any energy last night.” she said with a devilish smile and looking Drazdan in the eyes.

This, of course, prompted Drazdan to immediately choke on his water and spit it out onto a fellow customer on his right. The now soaked Dwarf really didn’t appreciate the early morning shower.

Brenda found his reaction hilarious and broke out into an evil cackle while the Dwarf was deliberating whether or not this was worth pulling an axe out for.

“Heuk! Did we…” Drazdan tries to say, only to be interrupted by a coughing fit.

“Don’t worry hun, nothing happened. Hehehe.” Brenda says grin still painted on her face, thoroughly enjoying her customers' reaction. “Just wanted to see how you’d react if I said that, and let me tell you. It was priceless.” she explains.

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“I… I see… Glad you… Enjoyed it…” Drazdan manages to stammer out in between coughs.

The dwarf who was passively spectating has decided against angering an obviously dangerous bunny. Said bunny may not be wearing a shirt, but he is most definitely wearing his belt of axes and knife over his chest.

“Excuse me.” The dwarf speaks up through his lush crimson beard. “Could I have a napkin?” He asks with his deep and low voice just slightly over a whisper, probably because of his own hangover from last night.

“Of course, here you go.” Brenda answers, placing a pile of napkins next to dwarf's plate.

“Much appreciated.” he answers curtly, before taking a few and drying himself off from the interpromptu shower.

Drazdan finally manages to get his breathing back under control and takes the time to look at his wet victim, “Yea… Sorry ‘bout that. Didn’t mean to hit you…” he apologizes.

“Apology accepted. Be more careful next time.” the Dwarf answers and advises before returning his attention to his breakfast and ale combo. His plate was filled with a thick potato stew, the aroma easily betraying its spicy nature.

“Say, is that stew good? Certainly smells like it…” Drazdan asks the dwarf.

The Dwarf without looking up from his plate gives him a thumbs up with his short but thick fingers.

Drazdan looked up from the Dwarfs’ plate and turned towards Brenda, “Could I have some of that potato soup too? And a carrot too, please.” he asked now compelled to try this aromatic stew.

“Sure, I’ll be just a sec.” she replied, now making her way to the kitchen.

Meanwhile, with Xandarr…

He is now fully dressed and ready to take on the day, after saying goodbye to the drow in his bed, otherwise known as, Thirza Niragon. Staff in hand and Thirza in tow, they start making their way down the stairs. Upon passing next to Marcus’ room, they hear what sounds like metal hitting metal.

Thirza and Xandarr lock eyes and instantly prepare for a fight, Xandarr holding onto his staff just a bit tighter and Thirza pulling out a pair of curved elven daggers. Xandarr stood next to the door, holding the handle, while Thirza stood slightly to the left in front of it.

Thirza nodded to Xandarr signaling that she was ready to charge into the room. Xandarr promptly turned the door handle and Thirza followed it up with a quick and powerful kick under the handle, making the door fly open before she charged to try and catch the thief.

Of course, upon entering the room they saw no one, just the pile of armor on the floor. They both looked around the room confused and Thirza walked up to the pile of armor.

“Is your friend always this careless with his belongings?” she asked the druid.

“As far as I know, he shouldn’t be. Also, I never said that he was my friend.” he answered her question.

“Hm, then he must be…” She said before getting cut off by a pained grunt originating from the pile.

She quickly pulled one of her daggers, kneeled down next to it and started looking through the pile, quickly realizing that Marcus was not downstairs, he was stuck inside the armor.

“Xandarr! Give me a hand here!” she called.

Xandarr who was looking out the window quickly turned around to see Thirza trying to lift pieces of the pile.

“Your friend is stuck in here!” she exclaimed.

“Are you kidding me?” Xandarr asked before quickly running to the pile himself.

With the help of an extra pair of hands, they quickly managed to get Marcus untangled from his metallic prison. Marcus’ head now out from under his arms and untangled or unstuck from connecting plates of armor.

He felt thankful and slowly started being able to move his arms and remove his bracers, followed by the pauldrons, neck protector and chestplate.

“Thank you.” he said, truly thankful for someone helping him.

“How did you even get stuck like this?” Xandarr asked, still stunned by the sight. Thirza also interested in how such a thing happened.

“I fell asleep…” he said, refusing to say anymore.

“That's it? Come onnnn there is definitely more to this story.” Thirza pushed on, eager to hear this story.

“Yea, Marcus, spill it. Can’t leave us hanging like this.” Xandarr pushed as well.

“I… I woke to a scream and jumped out of bed… Then fell over… And my armor got stuck in between each other…” he stammered out, greatly embarrassed.

Upon hearing the details, Thirza and Xandarr broke out in laughter, further embarrassing the man. After a few minutes of this, Marcus managed to get the lot calmed down, and they started making their way down to the dining hall.

They spotted the bunny sitting at the bar next to a dwarf and Brenda talking to her chef in the kitchen through the little window behind the bar. The three of them decided to sit down next to Drazdan for breakfast.

Marcus decided to sit down on the seat to the left of Drazdan.

“Good morning.” he said.

“Oh hey Marcus, where were you? I tried checking your room this morning, but only found a pile of armor. You should really take more care of your stuff.”

Marcus took a second to respond, “You know… Sigh… I was inside the armor… You just didn’t hear me ask for help…” he responded.

Drazdans’ eyes went wide, “Uh… I’m sorry, I honestly didn’t hear you…”.

“It’s fine… Xandarr and Thirza almost missed me as well. Thankfully they didn’t and managed to get me out.” he answered.

The Dwarf of course found this humorous and released a chuckle. “Nothing like a drunk knight getting stuck in his own armor. Good times.” he said, still chuckling at fond old memories.