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<blockquote data-quote="Halford" data-source="post: 4512912" data-attributes="member: 64844"><p><span style="color: magenta">"Ha, well glad to see you've got some sense lets go and get plastered!"</span> Leesha says happily. <span style="color: magenta">"Give me a second!"</span></p><p> </p><p>The comely Widow Honeylott pulls off her gloves sniffs herself, shrugs and brushes a bit of the hay from herself. With a self concious grin she winks and strides off to the Inn.</p><p> </p><p>The party cross the street and begin to hear the faint sound of music filtering from the Inn's common room. Entering behind Leesha they see a clean establishment filled with what appear to be fairly well to do patrons - many of whom have the look of young nobles "slumming". </p><p> </p><p>The bloated form of Fat Sal is instantly recognizable at a corner table, and the obese thief is surrounded by four thug-like individuals one of whom has a female halfling seated. Upon the fat mans lap is a small halfling woman - though it is likely she is average sized for her race and simply dwarfed by the lap in question - who is feeding him chicken legs wearing a forced smile. From her dress this might be a professional engagement.</p><p> </p><p>Seeing Sal, Perkiss stops at the door and looks enquiringly to the party. Leesha meanwhile is already striding to the bar. A young noble leering to his cohorts pinches her posterior and slurs,</p><p> </p><p>"Nice breetches lovely."</p><p> </p><p>The stable owner smiles and leans in alluringly giving the lout an eyefull of cleavage as the rest of the bar chuckles. Those far enough away can see that she has hooked a boot around one of his chair legs and all burst into laughter as she yanks his chair out from under him leaving him bruised befuddled and dripping in his own wine.</p><p> </p><p>Within second she is at the bar with a full tankard in her hand chatting to the bartender - a large, but attractive woman wearing what looks like dark red velvet.</p><p> </p><p>In the far right corner is a small stage upon which a young man is playing a lute with his eyes closed, he does not sing, but he is mouthing words silently. He appears to be lost in the music - which is pleasent, but hardly spectacular.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Halford, post: 4512912, member: 64844"] [COLOR=magenta]"Ha, well glad to see you've got some sense lets go and get plastered!"[/COLOR] Leesha says happily. [COLOR=magenta]"Give me a second!"[/COLOR] The comely Widow Honeylott pulls off her gloves sniffs herself, shrugs and brushes a bit of the hay from herself. With a self concious grin she winks and strides off to the Inn. The party cross the street and begin to hear the faint sound of music filtering from the Inn's common room. Entering behind Leesha they see a clean establishment filled with what appear to be fairly well to do patrons - many of whom have the look of young nobles "slumming". The bloated form of Fat Sal is instantly recognizable at a corner table, and the obese thief is surrounded by four thug-like individuals one of whom has a female halfling seated. Upon the fat mans lap is a small halfling woman - though it is likely she is average sized for her race and simply dwarfed by the lap in question - who is feeding him chicken legs wearing a forced smile. From her dress this might be a professional engagement. Seeing Sal, Perkiss stops at the door and looks enquiringly to the party. Leesha meanwhile is already striding to the bar. A young noble leering to his cohorts pinches her posterior and slurs, "Nice breetches lovely." The stable owner smiles and leans in alluringly giving the lout an eyefull of cleavage as the rest of the bar chuckles. Those far enough away can see that she has hooked a boot around one of his chair legs and all burst into laughter as she yanks his chair out from under him leaving him bruised befuddled and dripping in his own wine. Within second she is at the bar with a full tankard in her hand chatting to the bartender - a large, but attractive woman wearing what looks like dark red velvet. In the far right corner is a small stage upon which a young man is playing a lute with his eyes closed, he does not sing, but he is mouthing words silently. He appears to be lost in the music - which is pleasent, but hardly spectacular. [/QUOTE]
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