A Tangled Web We Weave (IC)

[Ifni]

Branch touches Zen's shoulder for a moment. "It's just practice. I could barely walk the day after my first long ride. Even if right now it feels like your legs are going to be permanently deformed, your muscles will adapt pretty quickly, you'll be surprised. You just have to get through that first day or two."

Harp limps over, having removed several bags from the ponies. "All right. I'll follow your lead - Lord Saram." She smiles, a little ironically, and bows to the Dragon-Blood, wincing as she straightens up. "After you, Prince of the Earth." She falls into step just behind him and to the right, as they head toward the doors.

Inside, the common room of the inn is lit by several oil lamps. The floors and walls are whitewashed stone; the furnishings are mostly wooden, and look to have been made from many small irregular pieces, rather than long straight planks. Several of the tables bear scars and gashes. More surprisingly, perhaps, one of the stone walls has a long furrow in it. There are eight men and women seated at the tables, eating and drinking and talking; the room could probably hold two or three times that number.

Besides the door where Zen and Harp entered the room, there is a door behind the bar to their left. On the far side of the room a fire burns brightly in a wide stone hearth, and next to it a curving stairway leads upward.

Also behind the bar is a shelf of bottles, and a middle-aged woman dressed in practical plain gray wool.

As Zen and Harp step inside, conversation stops. After a moment, they are no longer the focus of all eyes, as people look away, but the chatter does not resume.

The innkeeper hurries out from behind the bar and curtseys, deeply but not very gracefully, to Zen. "Welcome to the Wayfarer, Prince of the Earth. How may our humble inn provide for you this evening?" Her voice is controlled, but her face is pale.