Jaik said:
Mochor nods solemnly and takes three coppers from a belt pouch and drops them into the Sibeccai's hand, then gestures to the road.
*Kedarinn quickly ties on a headband to let people know he's on duty, then takes off at a trot. You have to move quickly to keep up with him, but he makes an effort not to lose you in the crowd. It only takes you a few minutes to arrive at the Raven's Beak with his guidance.
*However, both of your keep your ears and eyes open, and even in only a few minutes, the busy town streets yield a few interesting pieces of information. You see one pale, heavily muscled man complaining to another, "Kithfallow's team pulled another ten carts of ore today. Rumors are that they have almost seventy trade bars at High Vault's. Seventy! And we haven't even found so much as a crumb of gold, not with the cave-ins and all." A pair of sprytes zips by at about seven feet off the ground, chattering excitedly. You catch a snatch of their conversation as they fly by, "...and Kasa said the magic was used for healing..." As you arrive in front of the Beak, a woman carrying a heavy sack brushes by, speaking in a low urgent voice to a faen man trotting by her side, "...we know they're haunted. No one wanted to end up like Caru, he's never going to..."*
*The Raven's Beak is a particularly large inn, three stories tall and stoutly constructed. Shuttered windows are evident on every floor. The sign above the door is that of a raven's head with its beak open, painted in slightly faded black paint.*
"This is were you wish to be, Sirran, Sirrat," he says, and gives a short bow. Unless you have any other questions you wish to ask him, he will take off his headband and head back toward the gate. He's almost immediately accosted by several people wanting his services as he moves away from the inn.
*The inn's common room is fairly spacious, with benches to sit on and very heavy-looking tables to eat from. A fireplace on the right-hand wall is made from what it probably local stone, and is currently occupied by a large pot, probably of stew from the smell of it. A large stuffed raven perches on the fireplace. A long bar is on the opposite wall, being tended to by a older-looking gray-haired human man. There's a smell of sausage and fresh-baked bread in the air, coming from a door behind the bar; it must be the kitchen.*
*There's a scarred and somewhat wicked-looking sibaccai man sitting at the bar, talking to a faen man with long, braided light gray hair. The rest of the room is full of other men and women, mostly human but with a few faen, eating breakfast and talking. Most of them carrying swords, bows, or other weapons, and most wear light armor as well. The bows are unstrung, and the swords and other weapons are peace-wrapped; tied with a light colored strip of cloth to indicate that they're not to be drawn in town.*
*There's a short pause as most of the patrons pause to take a look at the new arrivals. The pause is followed by rapid talking, as most seem somewhat interested in your arrival. Scinathar notices the usual stares, though Mochor is garnering a few as well.*
*Grathis and Connor, the end of breakfast is interrupted by the entrance of a litorian and a mojh entering the inn. The dark-maned litorian carries no weapons other than a dagger, which is somewhat unusual. Of the mojh you can't see much, but the height, the tail, and the hint of scales beneath the hood is enough to recognize its race. Both must have just come from the road, as they carry traveling packs and are somewhat dusty.*
*Sanje, Chartan gives you simple directions to the Arms. It's near the main gate, and you must have passed it a time or two on your way to market. It's a very large building that has a picture of two crossed arms carved over the doorway. As you approach, the door flies open, and out comes a rather unusual sight. A very small quickling faen woman has a young human male by the ear, and is leading (or almost dragging one could say) him out of the building. The poor boy is almost on all fours trying to follow her and still keep his ear. Even from here you can see she has a terrific grip on it. She yells in an usually loud voice for one so small.*
"I don't hire wet-behind-the-ears, incompetent, mamma's boys. You know
nothing of swordsmanship and if I hadn't already beaten you once I'd beat you again for good measure. Now get out of here!" she yells, and releases the young man. Blushing furiously with embarrassment, the young man disappears into the laughing, jeering crowd. The quickling woman turns toward you as the man leaves.
"Well Sirran verrik, do you know how to use your weapons or are they just for show?" she demands, a somewhat playful expression creeping onto her face, replacing the anger of a minute before.
*Galen, if you decide to go to the Eloquent Minotaur, it's not too hard to find. It's farther down the street from the Raven's Beak. It's only a two-story inn, and the front is carved with a minotaur making gestures like those of an orator. Inside the place is as brightly lit as any scriptorium, both with lamps and magical light. The conversation is somewhat subdued here, though people whisper frantically to each other. There are as many books and scrolls on tables as there are plates of food, and as many ink quills and ink pots as mugs of ale. In a few places around the room you can see small images, such as birds and other small animals, on the walls. One, a bluebird, is right next to the door, and your inborn sense tells you it's magic.*
"Make the bird sing Kasa, please!" you hear someone call out, and suddenly the bird on the wall begins to trill a lovely woodland call. You look about the room and see an old granny of a woman behind the bar accepting a coin from a man on the other side of it.
