The tall, lanky, one-eyed innkeeper looks Shoon up and down, and without saying a word pours him a tall glass of dark whiskey, and sets it in front of the monk. "That'll be two coppers."
Shoon looks around, shrugs, and drops two coppers on the table. Pulling the ale to him but not drinking it, he leans into the bar and speaks in a low voice. "This is about that bard. I spoke with him after buying him a few drinks. I think he is a danger to your... lovely serving maids. You see, he explained to me in detail his little side profession of tricking young women into coming with him under romantic pretenses and then selling them into slavery. Now, I and my friends would be glad to remove him, by force if necessary. He may have information we need you see. I just wish to let you know of this so that we could come to an arrangement and avoid causing any damage to your establishment."
"I want no trouble here," says the barkeep. "So don't be startin' none. Things could get rough." He gestures to the tough crowd that fills the place. "Anything you do, you do quietly."
Sir Merrick strides into the tavern. Once inside he scans around the room, looking for his companions, the bard Shoon described, and the crowd in general. His expression is not open, friendly, or pleasant. Hard might be a better descriptor.
The barkeep waves his hand at the crowd. "Who can tell in this lot. Some are river pirates, some brigands, some are common cutpurses." He lowers his voice as he continues. "And some serve the Temple. You do not want to gather the wrong sorts of attention..."
Sir Merrick strides into the tavern. Once inside he scans around the room, looking for his companions, the bard Shoon described, and the crowd in general. His expression is not open, friendly, or pleasant. Hard might be a better descriptor.
Sir Merrick crosses the room to join Zirat. Upon spying the halfling slumped groggily under the table he bends down and with one hand plucks Deren up off the floor. "The bench is up here." He says as he deposits the knife thrower upright. Sir Merrick eyes the numerous empty tankards and pitchers around the two's end of the table but makes no comment.
Instead his gaze goes back out over the crowd. "Which one is the bounty hunter's bard? And what is Shoon trying now?"