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<blockquote data-quote="ahayford" data-source="post: 5685162" data-attributes="member: 6680745"><p>A troop of several adolescent Hillfolk girls led by a rather stren looking middle-aged Hillfolk woman then emerged from the kitchens and began passing out bowls of hearty fish stew to the inn’s guests. The stew was obviously the cuttings and bits to ugly to serve on their own, but it had a heady aroma that promised a full, satisfied belly. The barkeep motioned for one to be brought to the near delerious man on the floor.</p><p></p><p>All offers of coin are charmingly waved off by the barkeep.</p><p></p><p><img src="http://i1220.photobucket.com/albums/dd444/hayforda/innkeeper-704659.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p><span style="color: gold"></span></p><p><span style="color: gold">“My friends, I would not be able to uphold my reputation of being the most hospitable inn keeper in the bushlands if I did not offer at least some form of nourishment to my visitors. Anyone that crosses my threshold is welcome to one bowl of stew, all the water he can drink, and a safe place to sleep within my walls. My name is Orin. I’m afraid I can offer little in the way of medical supplies, but If there is anything I can do for your friend there, let me know.”</span></p><p><span style="color: gold"></span></p><p>The aging Chelaxian grinned, showing several gold teeth, as he mopped his balding scalp with a colorful scarf. His clothing was simple, in the colonial style, but he wore several pieces of rather expensive jewelry, perhaps a testement to running the only protected road house between the bustling cities of Sasserine and Cauldron. </p><p></p><p>As the girls passed out the bowls of stew, they also left small placards listing the inns services and charges. The older woman barked orders to the young girls and quickly sheparded them back into the kitchen as soon as they emptied their trays of stew. Her black hair was braided into tight cornrows and pulled back into a pony tail. As she left the common room, her eyes stared over long at Nai.</p><p></p><p>Caravan master Adofo pushed the stew aside and ordered a small feast off the placard, as did several of the more richly appointed caravaners. Stewards and merchants unable to afford an entourages gobbled their stew, then walked into the early evening air to see to the lodging of the pack beasts and stowing of their cargo for the night.</p><p></p><p><img src="http://i1220.photobucket.com/albums/dd444/hayforda/placard_small.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="ahayford, post: 5685162, member: 6680745"] A troop of several adolescent Hillfolk girls led by a rather stren looking middle-aged Hillfolk woman then emerged from the kitchens and began passing out bowls of hearty fish stew to the inn’s guests. The stew was obviously the cuttings and bits to ugly to serve on their own, but it had a heady aroma that promised a full, satisfied belly. The barkeep motioned for one to be brought to the near delerious man on the floor. All offers of coin are charmingly waved off by the barkeep. [IMG]http://i1220.photobucket.com/albums/dd444/hayforda/innkeeper-704659.jpg[/IMG] [color="gold"] “My friends, I would not be able to uphold my reputation of being the most hospitable inn keeper in the bushlands if I did not offer at least some form of nourishment to my visitors. Anyone that crosses my threshold is welcome to one bowl of stew, all the water he can drink, and a safe place to sleep within my walls. My name is Orin. I’m afraid I can offer little in the way of medical supplies, but If there is anything I can do for your friend there, let me know.” [/color] The aging Chelaxian grinned, showing several gold teeth, as he mopped his balding scalp with a colorful scarf. His clothing was simple, in the colonial style, but he wore several pieces of rather expensive jewelry, perhaps a testement to running the only protected road house between the bustling cities of Sasserine and Cauldron. As the girls passed out the bowls of stew, they also left small placards listing the inns services and charges. The older woman barked orders to the young girls and quickly sheparded them back into the kitchen as soon as they emptied their trays of stew. Her black hair was braided into tight cornrows and pulled back into a pony tail. As she left the common room, her eyes stared over long at Nai. Caravan master Adofo pushed the stew aside and ordered a small feast off the placard, as did several of the more richly appointed caravaners. Stewards and merchants unable to afford an entourages gobbled their stew, then walked into the early evening air to see to the lodging of the pack beasts and stowing of their cargo for the night. [IMG]http://i1220.photobucket.com/albums/dd444/hayforda/placard_small.jpg[/IMG] [/QUOTE]
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