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"Can I buy some for Geoffrey? Sounds like something he'd be into," she probably shouldn't have said it, or even thought it, really. What would her father think? His children so estranged from one another that she'd be pleased to see her brother high on some magical spice. But... it was said and she didn't take it back, perhaps only now realizing the depth of her anger at being barred from her father's funeral since her very presence might embarrass Geoffrey and his mother. If it wasn't too expensive and Macey was willing to let her buy some for the young lord Collins, well, then it was his choice if he wanted to indulge, right? "How much is it?"

Indeed, as Pint overhead Brenna asking for some of the drug, the dwarf very visibly went to rub the bridge of his nose in disappointed frustration. Nobles and their vices man....

Macey smiles. "The burning herb costs 60 gp per peppercorn" he says, "to you I make a special price, 50gp per peppercorn. You will need five peppercorns to get the maximum enjoyment of it. "

You haven't come to an agreement when the bell rings and two new guests appear. It's another middle aged man with a teenaged girl. Alfonce arrives to discuss their menu choices, and then the two men break into fluent Petulan, and embrace, as Petulans do.
The girl is ugly, her face inadequately disguised by a thick layer of expensive cosmetics. She is also rude and aggressive, saying (in Petulan accented Common) "No I won't 'ave the fish pie. I can nearly smell the fish. It goes off, when it's got to travel this far from the sea. I suppose we're stuck with the chicken. And just one serving wench on the bar? I call this a low rent establishment. Wench, a bottle of Petulan wine please. Oh, you wouldn't serve something like that, how was I to know?"

The pair sit near the party and Macey.
"Just selling some of my magical burning herb to this young lady" says Macey, "I see from your dress that you are the Petulan ambassador. Can I tempt you, your Excellency? The first one is always on the house ...?"

"Your bottle of Petulan wine, madam" says Kitty, "We keep it behind the bar."
"It's a lousy vintage, but I suppose it will have to do" says the lady, "I am quite saddle sore after our long journey. I wish we didn't have to come. Who pray are you two girls?"

Brenna politely declined when she heard the price of the spice. A year ago she might not have batted an eye at it, but those prices were simply beyond what she could afford now that Geoffrey had cut off her support from the Collins family. Particularly for something that was simply to cause her brother a headache that he might not even "enjoy".

So she returned to her game of backgammon, if Caitlin still wanted to play, passing the time until dinner.

(Is the lady talking to Brenna and Caitlin? Or the barmaids? I'm assuming Brenna and Caitlin, so disregard this part if not!)

"Brenna... and Caitlin," she offered only first names now, restraining herself from rolling her eyes at the girl who looked somewhere between her age and Caitlin's. Then looked back to the game and moved her next checker.

Pint makes an annoyed face when the loud mouthed girl bursts in like that. Given her face and attitude he wonders if she might be a half-orc as well, or maybe she's just really that ugly. Seems odd that she'd have royalty airs about her like that. But really, what are all these nobles doing in this crappy inn anyway? It seems awfully suspicious, either the quality used to be better or all other inns have fallen prey to marauding orcs.

The ugly girl seems to be just ugly, though it's telling that Pint at first wondered if she was a half-orc.

"Are you travelling to court?" Caitlin asks her, "We're going to court".
"Yes, I'm the Lady Helena" says the ugly girl, "I'm the daughter of Baron de Burgundy".

Caitlin bows her head. "Very pleased to make the acquaintance of your ladyship".
"I've been sent here by the King of Petula. My companion is the ambassador."

"Maybe you could help me with this game" says Caitlin, "I really don't know where to move my checkers to best advantage, except to create doubles, as Captain Baring so kindly told me. My father sells spices at court. We have all the common culinary spices, then some of more magical characteristics; nutmeg, coriander, sweet and bitter almonds."

Lady Helena scowls a little.

"Let me introduce you to Brenna" says Caitlin, "Brenna is a lovely person even though we've only just met today and the dwarf who has so kindly agreed to travel with us tomorrow. The threat of orc attacks is awful, I'm sure your Ladyship will agree, it's better to make up a big party."

Betty serves Pint another tankard of honeyed water. Lady Helena and the ambassador keep the Petulan wine to themselves, not offering to share it out. "Sour cow isn't she?" Betty says to Pint.

"Here, you two can play a few games if you'd like," Brenna offered the board to Caitlin and Helena with a polite smile. "We've played a couple times already. I don't mind sitting out for awhile."

Caitlin seemed adept at handling these sorts and Brenna was more than content to let her be the one to entertain this baron's daughter. Though she sighed inwardly as it seemed yet more travelers were being invited into the party that would continue on toward the capital in the morning.

"Ever been to the inn at Fort Middlesburgh?" She asked Pint of their planned destination for the following night. Somehow, she was already suspecting they'd get stuck with this girl again tomorrow night, even if she managed to avoid her through most of the day tomorrow.

Oof, she's just a human? Pint *almost* feel sorry for Helena, but with an attitude like that her exterior is probably just a reflection of her inner self.

The dwarf thanks the tavern maid as she refills his mug with honeyed water and he shrugs when Betty mentions what a terrible attitude Lady Helena has. "Meh, typical royal brat."

He chugs on his honeyed water and wipes his beard with his forearm when Brenna slides closer to him. "Nay, canna say I have. Always thought there was nothing but frozen wasteland this far up north-- but here we have bloody royalty and spice merchants and other fops coming outta the woodwork. Wonder why this place got so popular all of the sudden?"

Particularly with the orc raids who where still in Pint's mind. What were all these high class people doing here and with no bodyguards? Something was not adding up.

Brenna realises she's probably done the right think leaving Caitlin with Lady Helena. Lady Helena is superior, but Caitlin doesn't seem to mind that. They play backgammon, with Caitlin usually losing

"Fort Middlesburg is much bigger than the Royal Mile Inn" says Captain Baring, "It's got stone fortifications and a whole detachment of troops. Fast traffic can make the journey to Leymouth in a day, if you set off early and have good horses. But slow traffic breaks here. Travellers want to get to a place of safety early, because orcs are active at night. But there haven't been any orc attacks recently."

"You've been doing a good job, keeping the road clear" says the Petulan ambassador.

Captain Baring smiles proudly. "I only wish we were mounted" he says, "Then we could accompany travellers and respond to reports of orcs, hunting them down. As it is we're restricted to mainly static defence. But we haven't been provided with horses".

"Don't insult him" says lady Helena, "he doesn't want to be reminded what a crappy job he has by you."
"The wisdom is all yours" says the ambassador, cryptically.

Captain Baring looks in annoyance. "I'll remind you that this is a royal fortress, and I am the commanding officer here" he tells lady Helena.
"So safe to be in your 'fortress'" says lady Helena, sarcastically.

Two of the largest charger horses seen in this town recently pulled an oddly shaped and bulky carriage down the tight trails of the village. The cabin appeared both bulky, given the height of the structure, and compact in length. It seemed to be made for one or two large people. Carved markings appeared different from typical local carriages. The doors were made of light wood. The hull of the carriage also had heavy green panels, giving the towed wagon a two-tone look. Whoever this traveler was came from far away.

A system of reigns appeared to be guiding the horses from an open viewport in the front of the carriage. Perhaps this was the reason for the raised cabin of the carriage, a driver needing to look over the tall animals. The cart came to an almost sudden stop outside of the Royal Mile Inn. It seemed to take up a lot of space, finding a corner to park. Large black horses with crimson eyes breathed deep, intimidating breaths.

The size of the vehicle made sense once the occupant strolled out. His steps were heavy footfalls, coins and metal clinking with each stride. "'Oy you lot. Know where a bloke could find a room an' nuff brew for the night?" His voice was a jovial rumble as he spoke to anyone gathered outside the inn. He stood only at 6'1 or 6'2, but his frame was easily three times the size of a wide human's. Simple brown cloth hung off the Rhinoman's thick, scaly hide.

He bared the long snout and sharp horn of his people. As he strolled towards the pub, he couldn't help but grunt. What a night to be alive! Power behind each step showed the power the large creature utilized when sprinting into a charge.

Oblivious yet to the new arrival outside, Brenna chuckled to Pint's statement. "Did you just call me a fop?" she asked, but grinned, showing she took no offense.

Then Captain Barring butted into her conversation with Pint yet again, announcing for the second or third time that there'd been no orc problems lately. Did the man have nothing else to do besides hover over the guests?

Although, she did enjoyed watching Lady Helena and the Captain annoy each other for a moment. If she had to pick between them, she thought she'd prefer the Captain's company.

Pint made a face as Brenna called him out on his generalist statement against royals. "Oi, ye know wot I mean, lass."

He also tried hard not to roll his eyes at the Captain, certainly noticing that he's trying really hard at convincing everyone he has the orcs under control. Yeah right, thought Pint, because if he did these merchants and royals wouldn't be trying to hire some random dwarven mercenary and a rogue to protect them in their way to the fort.

Pint took another gulp of his drink and paused as he heard and sensed heavy footsteps approaching the inn. Pint had heard those kind of foot falls before, there was only thing he knew could make that sound.

An ogre!

But where others would run or panic at the prospect of a man eating ogre approaching, Pint instead got a vicious grin about him as he reached for his Urgrosh. "Alright lads! Time for some bloody action!" He jumped from his chair with the enthusiasm only a madman could muster at fighting a giant monster.

The Royal Mile Inn is surrounded by a wooden palisade atop an earthwork. There is a double gate which is just wide enough to admit Mokk's wagon. There is a bell, which he rings, and Bald Mick opens the gate.

Pint hears the heavy footsteps and assumes an ogre. He runs out of the inn, Urgrosh at the ready. Captain Baring, sword drawn, is right besides him - for all the faults, the Captain does not lack courage.

Bald Mick obviously hasn't seen a Rhinoman before. He doesn't know how to deal with this character. He falls back.

"An ogre?" says Caitlin, obviously scared "here in the Royal Mile Inn?"

Brenna curses, trusting Pint's instincts about the cause of the heavy footsteps. "Stay away from the door and the windows!" she tells Caitlin and she springs to her feet as well. But as Pint and Captain Baring rush out the front, Brenna rushes for the stairs, heading up the room where she'd stored the bow.

If there really is an orge, she might be able to get a good angle on it by taking shots out the window...

The dark figure was oblivious to the scene inside of the pub. He could have sworn he heard some scrambling inside and saw weird flashes of movement away from the windows which peered inside of the faintly-lit structure. He knocked on the door, used to really just barging in.

There was a quiet stillness in the air. It seemed as if things had gotten more quiet. When the heavy wrapping was done, he called out. "You lot open for a room, yeah?" His manner of speaking was terse and improper. Deep waves of bass vibrated through the door, heavy vocal cords spinning out words that still kept a surprisingly jovial tone. "I'm thirsty, mate..."

Mokk scratched his bald, scaly scalp.

((Sorry Juls, it seems we've had a drive by posting. False alarm. Let's get back to the adventure. ))

Caitlin and Lady Helena settle back into their game. "We get to know most of the nobles with my father's trade" burbles Caitlin, "Like George de Burg and Henry Fitzroy. Some of the spices have magical properties you know, so we also get to talk to the court magicians. It's a very interesting life".

"Courts aren't so fascinating" says Lady Helena, "not when you've been born into it. I can see that if you were born as a peasant, you'd envy that life. But there's a lot of back-biting and bitchiness."

"We might in in a position to make a large order for spices" the Petulan ambassador tells Macey, "we'll be hosting a large banquet when we read Great Whiteminster".
"For you, I will make a special price" says Macey, "We have cumin and nutmeg and some extra special spice which you burn, and comes from the furthest islands." He calls one of his servants, and takes out a small sample of spice, which he gives to the Petulan ambassador to smell. "See, he says, it is pure and unadulterated. No cheating with Macey's spice. Do you want to test it?" he asks Brenna and Pint.

"Wench, when is dinner?" snaps Lady Helena at Martha. Martha scowls. "Dinner will be served shortly" she says, "Give Alfonce a chance to cook it ... Madam".

Brenna slid the bedroom's window open, trying to be quiet about it, though the wooden frame squeaked and rattled despite her best efforts. The chilly winter air washed over her as she hurriedly strung her bow.

Shouldn't she be hearing something smashing its way through the gates? She paused, listening...

"You lot open for a room, yeah? I'm thirsty, mate..."

Well, that certainly didn't sound like an orge, not that she'd actually ever encountered an orge before, but it certainly wasn't how she imagined an orge to sound. She snuck a peek down toward the front door, then stared, trying to figure what in the world she was looking at. It looked a little bit like an orc... maybe... but not really.

At least he sounds friendly...

Wait, did that ogre just knock on the door??

Pint was all ready to charge in and take out his aggression on some random wandering ogre. He usually preferred to approach battles a little more strategically, but he would be satisfied if he could get the drop on an ogre instead of the other way around which is usually the case.

However, the knock made him hesitate, as that was certainly un-ogre like tactics.

Still keeping his Urgrosh at the ready, he gave a look at the Captain to see what he thought about it, before he opened the door to get a better look at this interloper.