as the horn omniously sounds overhead,  mowler states Draconic curse word which can not be translated exactly into common tongue, but loosly it could be stated as just "damn it". the timing a moment after Takal states the same idea of word in the common tongue. though the tone of mowlers scretchlike speach reflects More of a<span style="font-style: italic">I knew this would happen, but im not pleased about it</span>attitude than a sence of urgrency or dismay.<br/><br/>As Everyone seems to Scatter and scurie about in reaction to the alarm, Mowler remains Calm and unnerved in his seat. slamming down the remainder ale while fiddling out a Grappling hook and One length of  50 ft' rope from his backpack, he then places these items up on the bar while simutaiously readying the component for an invisabliltiy spell and placing it next to the bundle of climbing gear.<br/><br/>he then reaches over and grabs the nearest Abondoned drink, and promptly drinks from it. crindging afterward and staring at the glass. "eeyughh" in reaction to not caring for the taste.<br/><br/>then he unhatches his Crossbow and loads it almost machanicly, as if done a million times before,  reaching up with this right claw grabbing a bolt, glacing momenttary over his right shoulder to make sure he grabs one with a purple ring painted around the non-tipped end((tipped with drow poison)). then uncocking, withdrawing, and placing the bolt in its proper place in a solid unbreaking motion. he then pauses for a moment, beaming his gaze down to the tip of his now armed crossbow, tilting around and examinening the completion of the weapon a moment.<br/><br/>sadified that nothing is wrong with the crossbow and that is ready for action. he places the weapon next to his other gear on the bar. grabbing his newly aquired drink and raising a Toast to the now empty Bar  "Glory Favors the Bold.... But Luck Favors the cunning"(draconic) and with that Finishes his<span style="font-style: italic">Warrior's code</span>* on the Mug and tosses it aside.<br/><br/>he then Scoops up the budle of the grappling hook and rope so that it rings around his left arm, around the base of the shoulder; Cups the Gummed eyelash (component for invisability) in his lefthand; and places the same hand underneith the readied crossbow to brace it. ready for Conflict, he stands up and ajusts his cloak so that it covers as much of himself as possible, curling up his tail against himself so that is is hidden undernieth also.<br/><br/>He releasies his trigger hand a moment from his crossbow to raise the hood of the cloak over the base of his head, withdrawing it back within the confines of his cloak and holding the crossbow tightly against himself so that it would be unknown to an onlooker that he was ready to strike. he then heads toward the back door of the tavern ((I know it hasnt been officaly stated there is a backdoor, but in my experance, all taverns have a back door)).<br/><br/><br/>As he walks toward the back enterance, he seems to become slightly tranparent. then slightly more, then slightly more. with each step he becomes more ghost-like until one would have to squint to make him out.<br/>mowler, confident that robe of blending was taking effect, begins to creep slower and make an effort not to be heard or noticed.<br/><br/>mowler gives a silent chuckle as he thinks to himself the "view should be slendid from the roof...." He felt no guilt for leaving the populus to fend for themselves, Mowler, for the most part, was not a Help the helpless kinda guy. though he was somwhat curious at How his new drinking buddies would fair. he resolved himself to being an silent observer on the roof. from there he would decide his next corse of action.<br/><br/>((hide check: roll 20 + 27 mod = 47))<br/>((Move silently: roll 14 + 12 mod = 26))<br/><br/><br/><br/>((<span style="font-style: italic">warriors code:</span>* to finish an abononed drink at a bar.))