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A nude man wonders to the inn and pins a note

A godskull kept in whaler's store
Ochre etched, a vintage lore,
splitting lobes in twain as if
to render whole into tractable sorts.
If such action were possible,
to reconstitute the osseous reliquary,
no exact structure could arise.

Hastily scribbled at the bottom
Brer Beothach the Godmen

Making one of their rare trips to the Inn, Juliana suddenly pulls down a note pinned near Borgate then chuckles waving it toward a man she calls Grapes...

He is alive after all!

Leaving some coins with the dwarf she instructs...

Buy him a beer next he is here and tell him from the Sea Priestess.

A nude man, mug in hand, stumbles to the board. He pins another parchment below, staining a fingerprint created from ale

At times I almost can imagine
A Lordless limpid gale
to sweep all dust up from Her mantle
draped over supple pale.
Whichever roads she'd walk upon
a dimmer idle drew
some measured misbegotten want
commanded by her coo.
When unlikely visitation bears
a tender ripened fruit,
though tempting does it color declare,
a hidden bastard bruit.

Temperaments attuned to selfish void
to taste its toothsome taste,
yet no bitter pill or remedy
to cope It's truths I've faced.

~Brer Beothach the Godmen

PS: A pleasure to serve the sea priestess.

Moshran's molded form, perfection honed!
I know now why he's god of blood and Bone.
Truly Sirani's green skinned kind,
How I'd love to caress their behinds!


~Brer Beothach the Godmen

I need some free apples from you, Kyre!


~Brer

Kyre's dark eyes look on the parchment after returning from the drows and as she takes a bite of a perfectly formed apple, a pen is pulled from her bag. Using the bottom of the parchment to write her message, she reads it over with a grin, then nods and turns toward Galmair and home.

You promised a hand Brer. I don't need anymore though.
The Witch

An apple is left with Borgate.

Whenever you need it.

~Brer Beothach



But I want apples