Claudia winks at Pris and then starts Bawling. Crying at the top of her lungs.
Pris jumps a bit, even though she had a moment of warning before Claudia's sudden outburst. Still, she quickly catches on and turns her face sour. "I can't believe you would do this!" The halfling firmly plants her hands on her hips and growls as menacingly as a halfling can. "Look at how much you've upset this poor girl, lumberfoot!"
Rotomo
While the kindly sage is away, Rotomo peers through the papers on the table, but they seem unintelligible to him. One shows a drawing of a much higher tower, firing what appears to be a miles long ray of fire across the horizon, not a lighthouse at all. Most of the writing is in language that Rotomo has never seen. He starts to think that perhaps this fellow, though kind, is a bit addled. The big man is just rising to leave when Quink returns.
With him is another strange character, a small gnome no more than 3' tall with a shock of curly pale blue hair stacked on his round head. "Well, I just had to see who had dear old Quink so worked up. He missed tea time at my place, and that's ot like him, so I just had to wonder over here and see for myself. And then Quink was all, 'I have a guest and he's interested in my theories' and so I just had to come and say hello. Name's Parooh. That's right, sounds silly, but there it is." The gnome continues on rapid-fire hardly pausing for a breath for several minutes, during which Rotomo learns he is the owner/operator of a cartography shop here in Sandpoint and that he and Quink are fast friends who meet daily for tea.
"So tell us, big stranger, what do you think of Quink's lighthouse, eh? He will tell you that its older than time itself and used to be a great deal taller and was once a mighty weapon, but I think that's silly. Every map I've seen shows it perfectly situated for a lighthouse. It is something the Society gets tied in knots about, that I can tell you. Say, will you join us for tea after all?"
Alden
As Alden strides over to meet the blue-cassocked priest, he avoids the workmen who continue to bustle through the churchyard. He stand politely near the pair, waiting for his turn, when he is suddenly struck hard from behind by something big!
Turning and wincing in pain, Alden sees a rubbish cart pushed by the largest half-orc he has ever seen. "Move out the way, bloody fool!" cries the half-orc angrily from behind the cart. "Bad enough I gotta clean up after all these pinks, now I gotta have them walking in the way of me cart as well! Now MOVE!" he cries at the top of his lungs, stopping the conversation of the two men, and turning heads of several passers-by as well.
The half-orc is quite broad and brawny with an underbite that includes a pair of sharp incisor tusks. He wears a red and gold tabard that has the village insignia woven onto it, and carries a heavy mallet at this side.
Priscilla and Claudia
After the scolding by the innkeeper at the White Deer, Claudia surprises everyone by breaking out in loud sobs. Priscilla scolds the man, who does not look the least bit sorry. In fact, you can see his face getting redder and redder as he becomes angrier and angrier.
"GET OUT!" he yells, stopping conversations all along his establishment. "Get back down there to the Rusty Dragon where you belong. I will call the guard and have you thrown from here. Now leave!"
He grabs a plate from a nearby table and flings at you, not really aiming. And it shatters on the floor nearby, getting your feet moving back towards the exit. Grabbing a broom, the man continues to yell and threaten, his face now an unsafe shade of purple.
Claudia keeps up her charade of tears but staggers away from him. She stands outside and continues to cry, telling anyone who asks about the mean man inside who yelled at her when she just asked where to find the Rusty Dragon Inn.
Rotomo looked down at the gnome and offered, "There is more to that lighthouse then meets the eye. But how would it shrink?" The large man paused as he considered the offer of tea and finally nodded his head in agreement, "Tea sounds good."
Priscilla joins Claudia in voicing her disdain at the innkeeper's rude manner outside the White Deer, clearly disappointed in the manner in which the business was run. "We were just simple travelers! It's a travesty, I tell you! Such a place, I wouldn't be surprised if rats weren't running amok in those walls if he treats the building as rudely he does weary travelers."
Claudia and Priscilla
As the two new friends stand outside the White Deer casting aspersions on the inn and its proprietor, its not long before a man, leading a handful of ponies in from outside the gates, stops to chat.
"Nae lasses, some may say tha' talkin' tha' way 'bout a man's business is fightin' words." The horse wrangler has a thick foreign brogue, and a long white-pink scar down one side of his face. "I'd advise ye tae call it quits afore Garridan there calls fer his wee brother, who jus' happens tae bae t'Sheriff o' these parts, eh? I'd hate tae see ye carted auff tae t'tank, ye follow? If it's t'Roosty Dragon ye seek, why doontcha come an' follow ol' Davy then? I'm headed right tha' way, if ye take mae meanin'"
He nods his head down the hill toward the harbor area and smiles offering you one of the lead ropes each if you'll join him.
"Me stables are righ' next ta t'Dragon an' I'd bae headin' over there ta meet mae own bonny lass fer dinner right after I put these lovelies ta bed." He jerks a callused thumb back over his shoulder at the ponies, who do look quite fine as such things go.
Rotomo
"Splendid! Capital! Tea it is!" says the fuzzy blue gnome, snapping his fingers and muttering some words in a language Rotomo doesn't quite understand. A silver tea service, piping hot and ready to share appears out of thin air on the worktable of Brodert Quink.
"Careful, careful!" cries the sage worriedly, reaching to move his papers and drawings out of the way of a loose bit of refreshment.
The tea is sweet and flavorful, not like the bitter brew made on the steppes of the Cinderlands, and a few biscuits only adds to the experience.
Rotomo follows the conversation as best he can, but the gnome talks very fast, and changes subject with alarming regularity so eventually it is all just noise to the stranger.
"Dear me," says Quink after an hour or so has passed. "It seems we have bored our guest, how rude of us. So Master Rotomo, what brings you to Sandpoint? Present excellent company excepted, of course!"
Rotomo sips the sweet drink that passes for tea in the outlands. His mind drifts back to the strange drawings he saw on Quink,s desk and how unlike the light house they were. He doubts there is any truth to the sage's theories but concedes, It is hard to tell how tall a tree will grow when you hold the seed in your hand.
The druid is startled from his musings by Quink's question and answered vaguely, "It is better to travel well than to arrive."
Claudia stops sobbing and shakes her head at the man, though tears still slide down her face.
Pris sighs and shrugs, running a hand through her dusty hair. "He started it, you know? Even if his brother is a sheriff, doesn't give him an excuse to be a fiend to strangers. Strangers who may've had coin." She shoves her hands into her pockets and shakes her head. "'s just bad business." She gives Claudia a small pat. "And it's fair that his customers understand just how bad his business is. That being said... I would prefer not to have a run-in with any local law enforcement, myself."
Turning his head towards the half-orc he narrows his eyes at the outburst, not at all appreciative of the man's tone or the fact that he managed to hit a stationary target with such a wide area to drive. In fact he was rather wondering if the man could manage to meander down a hallway without scraping the sides and complaining about the tight confines. Though the trained soldier in him had a few comments about how that was likely not a problem for such a man.
With a step to the side he waves the man along with a smile, "My mistake. I'll try to stand some place with a wider clearance next time." What he didn't mention was that he may have to find a dry lake-bed for that to be remotely possible.
Claudia and Priscilla
As Pris explains that the ill-tempered innkeeper started the scene and has negative publicity coming, the horse-tender nods understandingly. "Of tha' I have nae doubt, lassie. He's an angry sort nae arguin'. But he's also got money an' connections, an', nae offense now, but seems ye might bae lackin' in booth, eh?"
"Now will ye let mae guide ye tae t' Dragon or nae?" he still stands with a set of leads ready to hand to each of you should you wish to join him on the trek to Ameiko's place.
"Th..thank you kind sir." says Claudia, the tears finally running their course. "Please show us the way."
Pris raises a finger in retort, but recalls that while she may have had a contact or two in Magnimar, after a work drought and in a completely unknown city, the halfling lowers her finger, shrugging. She grasps the lead of a pony, still somewhat tall even despite the animal's short height, and follows after the man. "Did you say your name was Davy?" she asks.
Alden
Sneering the half-orc unleashes a torrent of curse words in the direction of Alden that would make a sailor blush. Seeing that he cannot provoke the man to a fight, the orc moves on with a baleful look over his shoulder. "I'll remember you, pink. You better believe Gorvi remembers." he snarls as if you had deeply insulted him or something.
After the rubbish cart has moved on, the two men greet Alden. "I see you have met our local streetsweeper and troublemaker," says the big Shoanti man shaking hands with a big grip. Unlike other Shoanti that Alden had seen or met, this man was without tribal tattoo or other ornamentation, and was dressed in a fancy fine uniform with a silver badge on the front. "I am Sheriff Belor Hemlock, and this is Father Zantus, head of the new cathedral. You seem to be new in town, what brings you to Sandpoint? The cathedral opening?" It is hard to tell if the Sheriff's question is merely polite or probing.
Rotomo
"Oh well said," cried the gnome cartographer Parooh clapping his hands in delight. "The travel is the destination, I must say, especially when one has a lovely map to guide the way!"
Parooh continues pulling a pocketwatch from his vest pocket and examining it closely, rubbing the face with a tiny cloth and then examining it again. "Well fellows, it was a lovely teatime, well shared. But I must get back to my office. Festival day business and all that! Until tomorrow, Quink! And well met, Rotomo, should you need a fine map, it would be my honor to serve!" He bows out quickly, snapping his fingers as the tea service disappears as it came.
"I am sorry for the dithering of a pair of old fools," says Brodert Quink a bit abashed after all. "We have waylaid you, and bored you near to death, I would think. Let me set you to rights, eh? Where is it you are headed? An inn? A shop? Something like that?"
Rotomo rose from his chair and grunted in farewell to the excitable little gnome. Looking back to Quink, "No apologies. It was nice to listen to old friends talk." The druid paused for a moment in thought and replied, "If you could point me in the direction of an inn."
On his way out the door he clasps the mans wrist, "When you share words with your elders the young ones grow in experience. Thank you and if I find out anything more about the lighthouse I will let you know."
Rotomo
"I know just the place," says Quink with a wink. He grabs a spare parchment and scribbles a quick note using a quill that he produces from behind his ear. "Here is a letter of introduction from me to the innkeeper, a fine lady, should you make her acquaintance. Give her this, and she will set you up nicely. I did her a favor some time back you see."
The man pats you on the arm warmly. "Well met, man. I do hope you enjoy your stay here in Sandpoint, and don't get up to too much trouble. I would love to hear your thoughts on the place when you have been here a bit."
He waves as you head off in the direction indicated, still moving slowly through the busy streets, which are more filled than ever with partygoers and merchants.
Priscilla and Claudia
"Aye, lass! Davy, Davy Hosk, at yer service!" he sweeps a low bow showing that despite his years, he can still move nimbly. "Nae lets put these lovelies tae bed, and search oot sooom dinner, eh?" Making sure you have his ponies in tow, the man turns and begins leading you through the crowds in and around the churchyard. He navigates lithely, keeping moving despite the groundswell of folks moving in all directions, and the ponies are well-trained enough to follow your amateurish lead with nary a mis-step.
As Hosk leads you down the hill from the higher part of town to the lower, the crowds thin out substantially, until they streets are quiet and hardly traveled. The clank of a smith's hammer breaks the new-found silence as Hosk leads you towards the Dragon.
"So, lasses, what brings ye to our fair burgh, eh? Ye doona seem like mere pilgrims tae mae?"
"I was told that someone named Ameiko that runs a bar here in Sandpoint could help answer some questions I have." says Claudia as her eyes finish watering and she wipes her face with a handkerchief.
Rotomo carefully maked his way through the crowded streets toward the Inn. If there is no room I will sleep close to the beach, he concludes as his gaze is brought back to the lighthouse.
When the towering Shoanti arrives at the inn he asks someone to point out the innkeeper.
Priscilla shrugs. "I'm just a freelancer, looking for some work - I usually stay out in Magnimar, but I heard about the festival out here and figured it might be a fun change of pace to check it out!" She smiles up at Claudia. "We met in line, I figured the least I could do was accompany such a fine young woman to her destination."
As the cursing half-orc stepped on with his not-quite-threatening glare Alden could only shake his head and muttered to himself, "Forgive me, Dawnflower, but I do hope he falls. At least once." Glancing up he spoke just as softly upwards, "Just a small bruise would do." He made a small sign for the Goddess as he saw the large oaf retreat to remind himself not to follow too far down that path.
When the other two stepped up the large man took Alden's hand in an even larger grip. The oddity of the moment struck him as most of the priests of the Dawnflower had such gentle grips. Always afraid to offend or provoke. Alden's own father had always said never to trust a man with a limp handshake, and suddenly the phrase made him smile as the man introduced himself.
With a smile as their hands parted he gave a polite nod to both men before answering, "Alden Vas Hett, Knight-Paladin of Sarenrae's clergy. I was assigned here as an assisting guard for the new cathedral, in fact. Though mostly I know it's ceremonial, to be honest. I doubt I'll have the workload you would with the pickpockets I met or our... unhappy half-orc acquaintance weaving about with that cart of his."
Alden
Father Zantus bows deeply to you and also shakes your hand. "The offering from Sarenrae is honorably accepted. We may not need an official guard, but you may stand your vigil after the ceremony if you wish and then return to your own fold once again. Our shrines honor the Dawnflower as well, so welcome! Now, I have much to attend to, so you will excuse me." the priest bows again, then enters a door in the side of the new cathedral.
The sheriff nods to Alden. "Always good to have an honorable fighting man here among us," he says with all seriousness. "One never knows when trouble might start." He stalks off, shouting at a group of Varisians who have chosen to make camp to close to the cathedral, leaving Alden all alone in a crowd.
Nodding as the Father took his leave to see to the last minute preparations, he clapped his hand across his chest in salute as the man turned. When Belor spoke so seriously before turning to bark at some men setting their camp Alden couldn't help but frown. Perhaps the man was just too serious, or perhaps that was the nature of the job he tended in this city. Either way he flexed the muscles in his chest to reassure himself of the weight of his purse tucked into his armor.
He knew the cathedral would have a room for him, even amidst the chaos of all this, but he'd been traveling the roads for some time and as weary as he was, what he wanted was a warm meal before he took his bed. In an effort to give space to the departed Father and Sheriff he turned on his heel and moved deeper into town to search out some place to eat.
Alden
Wandering through the crowded town, Alden stumbles across a shop with a sword and shield painted on the sign above the door -- an armory! His martial curiosity takes over and, though hungry, he enters to take a look at the wares in the shop. There are a few other patrons milling through the aisles, but the shop-keeper, a wiry woman of about 40 years with her grey hair tucked into a neat bun, says, "Welcome soldier! What interests you, we have weapons and armor of all types here, including some very fine items. What I do not have, I can usually get from Magnimar in a week's time, should you wish to wait."
The place is indeed a finely stocked armory including several masterwork or exotic items including a spiked chain, shuriken, and a magical darkwood and ivory repeating crossbow.
Priscilla and Claudia
Hosk nods at your stories. "Well yae are welcoome here in Sandpoint, then. I am sure mae Hannah will want tae hear moor of yer stories, and I will bae happy tae introduce ye to wee Ameiko later tonight, eh?" He continues to bring you through the village until you approach well-tended stables. A hand-painted sign of a horse hoof crushing a goblin's head underfoot hangs above the place.
"'ere wae are at last," says Hosk smiling. "Let's get these girls fed and bedded then." He is obviously referring to the horses, not you...
It is perhaps the cleanest, neatest stable you have ever seen, obviously cared for with great detail. A single black housecat purrs strectching on the rail fence inside the stable, stamping back and forth until Claudia scratches his ears. Then he rubs against her hand warmly.
Strings of long leathery triangles hang form the ceiling in places here and there like dried jerky or something, but closer inspections reveals what they really are - dried goblin ears, dozens of them...Each has a name or letter burned into the flesh.
Soon all the chores are down, the horses given fresh hay and water, and the tack hung up in orderly rows.
"Shall wae head o'er tae t' Dragon then, lasses?"
Rotomo
The hearty druid passes several other interesting places on his way from the Old Light towards the Rusty Dragon, as directed by the sage Brodert Quink. He sees a school of some sort, a general store where a burly shopkeeper sweeps the front porch, a bookstore, and a the heavenly smell of a bakery, but nothing distracts him from his mission and holding Quink's note, he moves on until he spies the Dragon.
For All (when you reach the Rusty Dragon)
The three story brick building leans over the road precariously, but your eyes are drawn to the impressive (and quite rusty) iron dragon that is perched on the roof of the building which looms down towards those on the road. The decoration on the roof indicates this is indeed the place - the Rusty Dragon.
Entering the smell of something exotic and savory cooking welcomes your senses. The interior is dark, allowing for private conversations and secret meetings as needed, lit only by a few candles at tables throughout, the windows covered over.
Few patrons are scattered throughout, involved in their own conversations or meals. A lovely Tien woman sits on a lighted stage strumming a strange stringed instrument and singing a beautiful song in a foreign tongue, but while the words may be unfamiliar, the heartache and longing of the lyrics still touch you somehow.
A long oaken bar is set up along one side of the public room, and a one-armed Ulfen man, with a tremendous thick pink scar down his face smiles at you warmly. "Velcome to duh Rusty Drakin" he says in this thick northern accent. "Vey are pleast to see you. Sit vere you like an' Bethany vill be with you soon, ja?"
As Claudia sees the cat, she immediately begins showering it with affection; she waits for Davy to finish his tasks, then pats the cat one last time and follows him back out into the chaos outside.
When they reach the Rusty Dragon, Claudia will give Davy a hug and a peck on the cheek and then head inside.
At the Ulfen's greeting, Claudia nods and looks to Priss as to what seat to sit in.
As he walked the shop and looked at the walls filled with swords, daggers and other weaponry he felt a bit detached from it. He was use to something with a bit of a different aesthetic. The swords were too elaborate and thin, the shields all neat wedges. Gone were the circular shields with crested designs and the swords with etchings down the blade in runes. Polearms with long smooth wooden hafts instead of carved wood depicting linnorms and other beats of the northland. Function without artistry.
As someone approached he turned with a smile, extending his hand amicably as he usually did, "Good afternoon, ma'am." He was very careful to gently hold her hand in his gloved on, but was thankful he hadn't opted for sturdy steel gauntlets for his travels (never mind he wasn't much for keeping steel between his hand and his blade). Instead he gave her fingers a polite and gently squeeze with a nod of his head, "I'd only just entered town today for the dedication of the temple when I came across your shop. I thought I'd look in and ask if, by chance, you carried a rather unusual item. Or unusual this far south at least. Back home we call them boarding axes. Mostly used for fires and such, but I've yet to find a shop between here and Augustana that carries one, and more than half who've never even heard of such a thing."
Pris examines the goblin ears closely, even poking at one of them with a gloved hand, curious about their purpose or what the meaning is, but a little too nervous to ask.
Upon reaching the Rusty Dragon, the halfling gives Davy a deep bow and a wide smile. "If your extermination needs ever get to be a bit too much for your cat, give me a call. I owe you, my good man."
As she enters, the halfling is first struck at the music - a beautiful melody, even if it seemed to be a bit melancholy for the place. Still, it was quite the impressive inn, and was much more inviting than the last one they had visited, especially with such a kind greeting. Priscilla smiles back at the Ulfen, keeping herself from staring too long at any one injury the man bears. "Thank ya kindly!" Scanning the bar for possible seats, she looks for one that is near the bar, but far enough from any major conversations so that the halfling's small voice might not be drowned out in any nearby noise. Pointing it out to Claudia, Pris hops over to the human-sized table and chair, clambering on top of it and using her lumpy, but sturdy pack as a booster so that she can actually see over the thing.
Claudia will follow Pris to the designated table, grab a chair, and say "Sorry about the waterworks earlier. I can cry on command, but I can't turn it off as easily. It's something I learned at the orphanage."
Rotomo ignored the northman's directions to sit and glared at him suspiciously as he held up his letter of introduction announcing, "I'm looking for the proprietor." While he waited for the man to reply he glanced around the inn and noticed, to his chagrin, the woman in the funny hat who had intervened on behalf of the child thief sitting at a table with her halfling friend.
"Oh, don't worry about it," says Priscilla, giggling. "It's certainly a useful..." She trails off at the end, just registering what Claudia said - "Orphanage?" The short girl leans forward on the table, head cocked. "You're an orphan?" It really wasn't something Pris had run into often, and having such loving parents herself, the idea of just not having anyone was curious to her. She thought about probing further, but realized that it probably wasn't super appropriate to do so, considering that they had only met that morning. "I'm sorry..." She glanced surreptitiously around the bar, looking for a way to jettison herself away from any awkwardness. "Oh hey, isn't that that guy from the line?" Her eyes catch on the Shoanti man, huge by human standards and enormous to Priscilla, talking to the bartender.
Claudia was about to answer the question about her being an orphan, but was spared making up a story by Rotomo's entrance, and so when Pris asks about him, she says "Yes it is. I wonder who he is among his people given his rather extreme reaction."
Lowering her voice, Claudia adds "I wonder if he's rich?"
Alden
The armory proprietor, whose name is Savah, nods with a smile as you describe what you are looking for. She shows you to a rack filled with long-handle axes and throwing axes, and there is the axe you seek, small like a hand-axe, with a piercing spike or hook on the back end. "This came off a pirate cruiser out of Riddleport that stopped here for emergency repairs. Some of the crew never made it back to the ship, and I bought this from the bosun, who was looking for cash to hire on more. Not the finest steel we have, but a useful tool in the right scrape."
Rotomo
The Ulfen man doesn't bother to read the paper, but jerks a big thumb i the direction of the performer singing on the stage. The songstress is a young lady, with dark hair and dark eyes. She wears a red silk kimono with a flying crane stitched in gold on the shoulder. Her singing while foreign still resonates with the druid. For a moment their eyes meet, and she nods in a barely perceptible way. Just at that moment, a halfling woman wearing a checked apron and a busy expression greets Rotomo. "Not often we see a Shoanti brave here. Welcome sir! I am Bethany, hostess at the Dragon, what can we bring you?"
Pris and Claudia
After seating yourselves, you spy Rotomo sitting at a nearby table, and you also see Davy Hosk join a tall, slender red-haired woman whom he joins in what seems like amicable company.
As you settle into your chairs, a halfling youth appears at the table, a dishtowel thrown over one shoulder. He knuckles his brow in silent salute, and raises his eyebrows in question, apparently seeing if you want something.
"Dontcha mind poor Morris, ladies," says the Ulfen bartender, Lars. "He's a bit simple, but a good boy. If you vant someting, tell me an' he vill fetch it, ja?"
The song changes from a melancholy tune, to a more martial tune, still oddly resonant with the strange stringed instrument, and the foreign tongue, but very artfully rendered, nonetheless.
Grasping the wooden handle in his hand he gives the axe a heft and tests the weight with a wistful smile on his face. More than a few nights he'd drilled with his father using such a weapon to both attack and pry old wooden planks apart in case he needed to carve his way through a door. Though he remembered his father's old axe with the wood carved in the visage of an old bear rather than the plain wood capped in a steel end, he couldn't help but appreciate it none the less. He'd not seen one of any kind in more miles than he could count.
Despite the notches and the hint of old wood burn on the side he nodded as he slipped it into his belt with a flick of his wrist and pulled his purse from under his armor, "Fine steel doesn't make a man a better soldier, it just means he hasn't had chance to use it much." Slipping out 6 gold pieces he counted them and offered them with a smile, "You've helped me find a little piece of home I haven't seen in many long dusty roads. Thank you, ma'am."
Stuffing the purse back under his armor lest he meet more of the pick pockets he tilted his head, "By chance can you recommend somewhere to get some food? I'm fresh off the road and I'd like to get a bit of something warm that wasn't cooked by a grumpy Dwarven cook who thinks anything besides salt is too spicy." He grinned on the outside, but inside he prayed for the taste buds of that poor Dwarf and the crimes against food he'd perpetrated in the name of 'cuisine'.
Claudia will order a water and something to eat, and then ask "Do you know what language the bard is playing in? It seems somewhat familiar to me, like I've heard it before, but I can't quite place it."
Pris smiles at Rotomo, a degree of unearned familiarity in her expression, before waving at Hosk as he enters the bar.
"Some ale would be just dandy!" requests Pris excitedly, "And anything warm to eat!" Nothing was nicer when arriving in a town than a good, old-fashioned home-cooked meal. Her artisan parents' small cart had, of course, contained a wide wealth of spices and cooking utensils, and though she saw them much less, the smell of boiling potatoes, especially those with a proper halfling array of flavor, was as good as the smell of gold. Well, almost.
She nods in agreement with Claudia's question, looking over at the playing the song.
Looking down at Bethany with a crooked smile and asked, "If the food is as good as the music I'll take some thing hot and a mead with honey." He looked over and caught Priscilla's smile and slightly nodded in her direction.
Alden
Of course, Savah recommends the Rusty Dragon as the finest food in town and with reasonable prices. She gives the paladin directions to the place and he finds it without any other distraction.
Lars, the Ulfen bartender, greets Alden warmly as well. "Haf a seat, sir. Ve vill be vith you as soon as ve can, ja?"
It appears to Alden that all the seating is taken, including the spots at the long bar. He sees the large Shoanti man sitting alone, with an open chair, as his best chance for finding a seat in the place which is filling up for the dinner crowd.
Rotomo
"You will not be sorry, sir!" says the hostess Bethany warmly. "The dinner will be fine, or you needn't pay. Morris will fetch your mead. Morris!" she snaps at the simple halfling lad. "Run and fetch this man's honeyed mead. That's right, on the double!" She looks at Rotomo wistfully. "He's a good boy, a bit slow sometimes, but good help is hard to find..."
The food is indeed delicious. Spiced exotically, the flavors are like nothing Rotomo has tasted before, though perhaps time spent at a Shoanti tribal fire may not count for a huge gastronomic diversity...
"Will the master need a room?" asks Bethany after dinner has been cleared. "There are few rooms left, we are filling up fast with the festival, so claim them now, or sleep in the stable."