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[h2][color=FF6C5C][i][b]Marita Bärbel[/b][/i][/color][/h2][i][b][color=FF6C5C]Human, Cleric, Level 3[/color][/b][/i]
[color=FF6C5C][i][b]HP:[/b][/i][/color] 18/18	[color=FF6C5C][i][b]Armor Class:[/b][/i][/color] 18	[color=FF6C5C][i][b]Conditions:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=FF6C5C][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Bed & Breakfast
[color=FF6C5C][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] PTSD
[color=FF6C5C][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=FF6C5C][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
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Marita remained silent after bringing up that it wasn't in their best interest to return to the Hayloft tonight. She didn't like it either, all her stuff was there as well, but if it came down to her or her belongings, she wasn't carrying anything valuable enough to make the latter a tempting proposition. She also didn't like the idea of not being able to stay in one place and at least attempt to get some rest, but as it was, staying mobile might be their best choice for making it through the night. Normally she'd communicate these things, but there were reasons she kept her mouth shut.

There was potential threat lurking in the fog. Not only were the rats keeping out of sight and tracking their every move, the no doubt roaming lycanthropes and who knows what else could come after them at any moment. With their senses cut off as it was by the fog, one had to maintain utmost concentration to detect any interlopers. However, that was not why she was silent. Nor was the seeping dread that saturated the air. No, it was the sense of unsettling nostalgia this situation brought with it. The cleric didn't know exactly why she felt that way at first, but it bothered her so much that's what the bulk of her thoughts were. It wasn't until the first screamed pierced the fog that it all clicked into place.

A series of sensations flashed through her mind. A dark, cramped place. The cries of friends and family. Fear. Warm blood. Remorse. The particulars of the situation were different, but it was a dead ringer for the worst day of Marita's life, when she had to flee her childhood home. It then occurred to her that she was standing outside of the Bed and Breakfast already. Kathryn was speaking to Lizbeth and she was gripping her mace so tightly it her forearm hurt. It had been her idea to try to simply hide out and make it through the night, but now she wasn't sure if she could go through that again. Nor was she inclined to make anyone have to go through what she did. She blinked a couple more times to try to clear up her head. Where had that scream come from? Up North? What was North? The market or Municipal building most likely. Depending on how things went it could be in the cards to reroute to those areas. They weren't going to be passive actors this night if she could help it.