New Plans over Old Clans

After waving farewell to his religious friend and the sentient backpack, Volkon heads back inside their jointly owned Inn.
He found it odd though unsurprising that Bastien had chosen to walk for weeks rather than simply instantly teleport back to his monastery.

The half-elf; Nitendae is elsewhere, Demitasse is back at the cathedral of Pelor and both Marlon and Sereena are still fast asleep but the young barbarian doesn't feel lonely. He sits back down beside the roaring hearth and tucks back into his 'Ogre' portioned cooked breakfast and sups from his ever-full flagon of ale.

Beneath his feet lies his great wolf, who waits patiently for the occasional but regular supply of crispy bacon.

Behind the counter, Rosey the Inn-keeper, beams over to him. Although she loves running the 'Hole-in-the-wall', she enjoys the peace before opening, surrounded by her much loved staff and new friends.

Bastien had headed back to his monastery to debrief his Abbot. Perhaps, now he'd regained his lost memories he should do the same?

His clan chief had tasked him to track and uncover what the orcish 'Bear claw' clan were doing and report back.

He'd done as ordered but had never reported back...

Young Volkon idly and internally debates whether he should stay here in the bustling city of Nom Pariel with his new friends... His new family, or trek the thousands of miles back to the savage lands of his birth?

...

Scratching Greyclaw's shaggy mane, the rusty haired barbarian sighs.

"Perhaps I should have thought about this BEFORE Bastien left?"