Just as the situation starts to get quite tense, a deep rumbling snore sounds from the other side of the fire. All four of them turn their heads to look toward Nathyrra's borrowed bedroll in amazement. Nessa chokes back a loud burst of laughter. "I can't wait to tell her she snores. She'll never believe it," she chuckles. She points at Valen. "She's commented that you sound like a bull rothe when you snore." Pointing at Deekin, she continues, "and YOU sound like an impaled myconid or somesuch."

Relaxing in spite of Burg's presence, Valen pokes at Nessa. "Really? At least it's a bull rothe. Well, my lady, most of us here have heard you snoring as well. I believe 'piglet' would be an appropriate comparison, don't you, Deekin?" Deekin laughs loudly, happy to be sharing jokes around the campfire. Nessa collapses into a fit of giggles as the tiefling tickles her mercilessly.

Burg is pleased that the group has relaxed. He would much rather enjoy good company and a spot of tea than have to go slaughter things on someone's command. "Barbaric, really," he thinks to himself.

"I say, you there, tiefling," Burg begins. "I'd like to properly introduce myself. I am Oikkaburgett and I would be pleased if you would call me Burg. I don't think we have to be enemies here, with The War so far off. Would you be willing to share your name?"

Valen pauses from tickling Nessa and looks toward the devil. "I agree, Burg. I am Valen Shadowbreath and pleased to meet you." At the mention of the tiefling's name, Burg scoots back and his normally brown skin pales to a sickly gray. "Y-Y-Y-YOU are…um….V-V-Valen Sh-sh-shadowbreath?" He swallows hard and struggles to regain his composure. "I have…um…..heard of you, my lord. My apologies for disturbing you. I'll go now." The devil rises clumsily to his feet. Valen's face takes on a chagrined expression as he extends his hand toward Burg in a placating gesture. "Please, Burg. Sit. You are welcome here." Burg isn't making much progress on leaving anyway, so he sits back down heavily.

Deekin looks at his friend in shock. "What be big deal? He just goat-man. He be moody and crabby sometimes, but he be very handy for squishing things."

Burg turns his wide, glazed eyes toward Deekin. "You really don't know who he is, do you?"

Valen interrupts quietly. "Hey, Burg? Ya know, some Styx tea sounds pretty good about now. I haven't had any in ages and I think some would hit the spot. Can you whip some up?" The effect on the devil is immediate. He hops up and gives a hasty bow toward the weapon master. "Of course, my lord. Right away. I'll be right back."

Nessa is watching this exchange with great interest. Her bardic instincts tell her there is a great story here somewhere but she is also quite curious about this man she is falling in love with. Who is he? Who WAS he? It looks like a private interview with that devil might be in order.

The moon elf turns to Valen with a sweet smile as she pokes him in the ribs. "Valen, are you trying to forget me so soon? You realize you lose all memory if you drink from the river Styx." He chuckles as he wraps his arm around her to pull her into her lap. He kisses her speechless then pulls back with a smile. "That only happens to you primes. For denizens of the Abyss, it's actually quite the delicacy."

Burg pops back into camp holding a steaming mug in each hand. He hands one to Valen, who points at a small twig poking out of the cup. He looks surprised as he asks, "Is that from a blood willow?" The devil smiles, "Yessir, it is. Is that okay?" The tiefling smiles and nods as he stirs his tea with the stick. His tea begins to take on a reddish tinge. He sniffs and sighs contentedly, "Oh yes indeed."

"Comforts from home are always nice," Burg replies as he sips his tea. Valen nods and growls something softly to Burg as he arches a brow at the devil. "What happened in the Abyss, stays in the Abyss," he says in bateezu. "Got it?" Burg blanches slightly and nods. "Of course, my lord," he responds in kind.

Valen takes a sip of his tea and inhales deeply. He smiles at Burg. "You make a damn fine cup of tea, my friend. Thank you for this treat." The tea is gone in a few more sips and Valen hands the cup back. "That was delicious." The tiefling stifles a yawn and looks at Nessa. "If you don't mind, I think I'm going to try to get some more sleep. Wake me when Nathyrra wakes up, okay?" "Sure," she replies. With that, the tiefling returns to his bedroll and is soon sleeping peacefully.

Nessa looks skeptically at the devil. "What did you put in it?" she demands. Burg's expression is pure innocence. "Nothing, I swear it." The bard doesn't look convinced and she glares at him, her hand on her hips. "Honestly, Nessa, I didn't do anything at all. He's had a really long day, don't you think? If you had such a day and someone brought you a taste from home, don't you think it would relax you?" She appears to be considering his words when he speaks again. "Besides, that is Valen Shadowbreath. There are songs and epics written about him by bards all over the Abyss. He is a LEGEND. When I tell my friends that I can hang around him, without getting killed, that's going to be quite the feather in my cap, I must say."

Deekin is listening to Burg's conversation with Nessa. "Um, Burg?" "Yes, Deekin?" replies the devil. "Friends be devils, right?" Burg nods as Deekin continues. "You tells devils that famous tanar'ri be here, won't they want to come here to get him?"

Burg looks thoughtful for a moment before nodding again. "You are right, my friend. I had not considered that. Very well, I won't say a word to my friends." Nessa sighs in relief. "Thank you, Burg. I would rather….not lose him," she finishes quietly. The devil nods and puts his arm around her shoulder. "I understand, dear. He is very…special. No doubt about that."

Nessa nods silently as Burg goes to sit down next to Deekin. The two of them immediately start chuckling as Deekin reaches for his notebook and pen. The elf looks to the other side of the fire to see that Valen has flopped onto his stomach and is fast asleep, his tail twitches in his slumber. Nathyrra looks rather uncomfortable, so Nessa goes to cover the drow with a blanket.

Burg looks up to see Nessa taking care of Nathyrra. "She's a sweet girl, isn't she?" he asks Deekin, who nods. "Yes, Boss be real nice. Not brightest torch in the hallway, but real nice to little Deekin." The kobold frowns slightly. "Too nice to goat-man, though."

The devil nods his head in understanding. "Yes, the tanar'ri tend to be a rather surly lot. If even half the stories I've heard are true, this one is especially mercurial." Deekin gripped his pen with excitement as he sensed a good story coming on. "How you spell that?" Burg spells it for him and Deekin writes it down carefully.