The journey south out of Tinghir proved long and tiring, the loss of comrades adding weight to your shoulders as the promise of great reward added lightness to your steps. You managed to make the border crossing without incident, but still had to travel more than two weeks to the capital at Sen Bieló in order to collect your pay.
You've now settled in at The Lances Head, a quiet bar frequented by old soldiers, weary but well-paid. You've settled in to a large booth off beside the bar in the relatively modest pub. You've all got drinks on the table in front of you, plenty of coins in your pockets, and no real pressing business to attend to.