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[h2][color=6ecff6][i][b]Hugh Caphazath[/b][/i][/color][/h2][i][b][color=6ecff6]Half-Elf, Monk (Way of Shadow), Level 3[/color][/b][/i]
[color=6ecff6][i][b]HP:[/b][/i][/color] 24/24	[color=6ecff6][i][b]Armor Class:[/b][/i][/color] 17	[color=6ecff6][i][b]Conditions:[/b][/i][/color] NA
[color=6ecff6][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Darenby, The Infamous Pear
[color=6ecff6][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=6ecff6][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=6ecff6][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
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[right][img]https://i.imgur.com/4a0uP44.png[/img][/right]
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It wasn’t often Hugh felt sympathy for others, but as she weathered the storm of commentary from the far more lively members of the party, the red-headed guardswoman certainly invoked it within him. She introduced herself as “Lynette” and seemed to be struggling with her composure, certainly frazzled enough so that she couldn’t seem to help venting a portion of her stress through an explanation of the local guard’s woes.

Unfortunately, said explanation did nothing to excuse the Sheriff’s careless actions. Hugh couldn’t be convinced at this stage that their client couldn’t have spared, at minimum, thirty more minutes with the party last night. It wasn’t possible that he was quite so busy that he couldn’t spare even ten minutes to convey forthrightly that all was not well with their mission. Hugh couldn’t get over the act of withholding potentially critical information at this juncture; the only thing such actions could possibly do was sow discord and mistrust, between not just the party members themselves, but the party and their client too.

Try as he might, Hugh couldn’t think of a single good reason for the Sheriff’s quick departure. Unless the town was actively being attacked, what could have possibly have so readily required his attention?

Lynette’s description of Victoria’s prior actions regarding the Sheriff was not exactly encouraging the dispersal of his suspicion of her, not only for the question of how she did so but also in terms of how almost uncharacteristic that sounded compared to what he’d seen of her so far. Then again, he’d not known her long, and he’d promised himself to objectivity. A single incident of irrationality was not proof of anything. That said, her apparent search for a butcher had fairly obvious connotations, all things considered, but he had no need to comment on the matter.

He nodded with a smile, pleased, as Lynette approved his personalized request. At her mention of the honestly surprising lack of smaller maps in the local guard’s possession, Hugh raised a single brow and waved off Lynette’s terse tone lightly, nodding to both her and Kathryn. [color=6ecff6]“It is no matter. After all, in the course of my work, I’ve naturally come to possess several maps. We will not lack for navigational ability.”[/color] He patted his bag at that.

Aside from the map issue, he didn’t feel prompted to speak up on any of the table’s other conversations and remained quiet even once Guido had begun his rambling. Sifting through the conversational chaff, Hugh only nodded and tucked away some bread, cheese and sausage. It was hardly specially prepared for such, but even this food would keep well enough to feast handsomely for a day on the road. With any luck, he wouldn’t even have to use any of his rations.

As the party majority began to filter away from the table, either to shop or finalize their preparations for the road by equipping armor and the like, Hugh excused himself and did some shopping of his own. Having been in town the past five days, he’d had ample time to absorb the general location of a variety of merchants in his wanderings. And loath as he was to make any expenditures at this juncture, he’d discovered a couple areas of his equipment lacking that would need to be rectified posthaste.

Hissing lightly at the newly biting chill in the air, he made his first stop for a thick traveler’s blanket, woven to rough it in the outdoors and still provide ample warmth. While normally, he was able to far more easily control his circumstances of rest, there were no guarantees that he’d always be able to sleep under a roof for the foreseeable future. Thus, prepping for rest in the frigid outdoors was only prudent.

His next stop was to purchase some scribing material. Certainly, while he had made his personal request for better, the investigation in the here and now would likely require a way to take witness statements or potentially make notes of sensitive information without removing the source material. Best to prepare for any eventuality. Parchment and ink were almost insultingly expensive, but between those, an ink pen to use them with and the blanket, Hugh begrudgingly parted with a grand total of eleven gold and two copper pieces.

Sliding the five newly rolled up parchment sheets safely into his map case, Hugh then set about his final preparations for the road, checking and double-checking the integrity of his weapons, emptying his pair of waterskins of their remaining dregs of old stock and trekking down to the river for some fresh water.

The return to the inn brought forth the scene of Victoria’s apparently incredibly practical purchase for their erstwhile tiefling. Regardless of whatever else he might think about her, it would be less trouble if she were to not catch a fever from the cold and become useless and sickly. One less spellcaster at optimal efficiency and a dead-weight body to lug around only sounded like a bad deal, no matter which way you sliced it.

Returning to his seat, Hugh shook his head regretfully at Kathryn’s questions. [color=6ecff6]“The time crunch being what it is, we have little left for us here in Darenby. Before we make any moves to split up, best we actually make our way to the Avonshire Township proper and observe the epicenter of this potential incident. And before that…”[/color]

As he trailed off, the shaggy-haired brunette reached into his bag and pulled out a simple, sturdy scroll case, twisting off the top and sliding out a fairly sizable sheet of hardy parchment, 1x2 feet in length.  He delicately slid the work of cartography forward on the table, pinning one end down with his now empty mug and holding the other with his left hand, the parchment effectively halted from attempting to curl back into a roll.

Displayed broadly was a painted expanse of light green to pale yellow hills and sparse clumps of forestry, save for the north, where there rested a large stretch of dark green.

Humming briefly, he stood up and leaned over the table, lightly fingering a rather central location upon the map’s expanse. [color=6ecff6]“We are here, in Darenby,”[/color] he explained, primarily for the benefit of Naivara and the more blatant foreigners among them. He slowly traced a line with his finger from there to a prominently marked location just south of the most heavily forested strip of land, indicative of a settlement to the west and ever so slightly north of Darenby by the map’s display. [color=6ecff6]“About twenty miles west, along the main trade route, Avonshire proper and the region’s namesake. If all goes well with the weather and such, a six to seven hour journey isn’t out of the question. We can be there by early afternoon, potentially with time to begin our investigations before nightfall.”[/color]