"The river's gone down!" Wystan announced as he barged into the tavern. Usually sober and gruff, the ferryman actually looked excited, practically dancing over to the bar. "Gold nuggets and silver goblets await!" he sang to the girl behind the counter.

A few months ago, heavy rains had washed away a section of the river bank, revealing a cave entrance. Wystan himself had found two silver coins on the bank above the entrance, as if the flood waters had pushed them up there. But until now, there'd been too much water rushing into the mouth of the cave for any but a complete fool to think of trying to explore it.

As the flood waters started to recede and a few of the townsfolk made plans to go spelunking, rumors and speculation had run rampant and the whole place was in a tizzy over it. "Gear up, folks! Ferry's headed there first thing in the morn and ain't comin' back til our pockets are full of treasure!"

Wystan:

Roman sat at the far corner of the tavern reading an old tome about Trebuchets over a dimly lit candle. Tin cup full of lukewarm water in his hand and some scraps of dried porkskin sitting in a pewter plate at arms reach. The withered old geezer nearly made him drop his cup from the way he barged in here. The place was peacefull this evening unlike usual and the smell of fresh bread and liquor covered the entire tavern.

Closing the book with a gentle leather clasp Roman turned to look at the Geezer. "Those coins probabbly got drop by some poor soul who got swept under from the wild currents that night. No doubt some iunlucky fool trying to make a name for himself." Roman huffed and took another book out from his pack. This one labeled "fabled lands of legend".

"Come on Jas, it's going to be fun. And think of all the treasure we'll find!"

"It's not like you're doing anything else tonight."
Jasmine sighed, and allowed her brother's friend Thomas pull her by the hand as the trio made their way toward the town tavern. She was always letting them drag her into whatever escapades they wanted. Though, the short redhead didn't really mind. It beat helping mother sew, or peeling potatoes for dinner.

The tavern came into view, and Jasmine started feeling nervous. She knew Thomas and her brother, Gerard, had been in there before, but she never had personally. Thinking back, she knew that she'd never really done anything that could be considered interesting. After all, her entire life revolved around her eventually being married off to a man that was hopefully better off than her own family. That idea never appealed to her though. Maybe if she had treasure, she could live her own life, and pick who she wanted to marry. Not that there was really anyone. The only men she knew she'd spent her entire life around, and one was her brother, and the other was the closest thing to one a man could be without actually being related.

Thomas gripped her hand a little tighter, urging her forward, and giving her some comfort. They pushed their way through the tavern doors, and she immediately took in the loud noise, tasty smells, and the warm atmosphere. Moving quickly to an empty table, Jasmine could feel the eyes of many of the men on her. Blushing deeply, she tried to ignore their eyes as she sat down. Her dress wasn't especially appealing, dark purple, that flowed down to her booted ankles. It had a light v neck that ended in laces. It was a dress mother would have her wear when meeting suitors.

Maybe the men knew all the women that frequented the tavern, and she was fresh meat to them. She tried to put that out of her mind as the barmaid came to their table. "Wha can I get y'all?"

Thomas piped up first, "Three pints please." As she left, the old man entered the tavern in spectacular fashion. It seemed the ferry was leaving in the morning. Jasmine wasn't too sure what they'd need for this trek, she'd never gone cave exploring. Hopefully Thomas and Gerard would know. Listening as the man with the book tried to crush the geezer's dreams, quite rude of him she thought, Jasmine saw their beers arrive. Perhaps it would be best if they tried to figure out who else would be going, either to work together with, or at least know who they were competing against.

Looking at the tankard in front of her, filled to the brim with golden nectar, she grasped it with both hands. It was her first drink, and saw that her companions were watching intently as she raised it too her lips and gulped it down. It wasn't bad tasting, and was smooth, she just wasn't sure if it tasted like anything she'd had prior. She continued sipping as her eyes scanned the room, feeling as her stomach warmed.

The tavern was in full bustle that afternoon, Marzipan was pleased to see, and barring any potential disasters like a bar fight destroying all the chairs or a stray ember setting the place ablaze it looked like it would be a potentially profitable one as well. For as the drinks flowed so did the coins, and the Hazelmead Tavern had the best drinks around within three days walk in any direction.

Her maternal aunt owned the place of course, but the portly woman couldn't keep up with the crowds without her gout acting up and usually towards the end of the day she left running the tavern in the care of Marzipan and her pretty young cousins while she went upstairs to soak her feet before bed. Marzipan, being the eldest, was usually in charge of the bunch and had the arduous task of wrangling the flighty girls, who were more interested in flirting then serving most days, and maintaining the relative peace amongst the rabble. However she took to the task with little restraint, no small pleasure, and all the tyranny of a mother hen.

Marzipan is very good at her job.

Making her way through the crowded hall, Marzipan spotted a shadowy form creeping through the furthermost window. It was Old Man Grover's boy, Fren, the only surviving family of the man's son who'd passed last winter after catching his death of cold. The orphaned boy had met the man only shortly after his father's death, and even at the best of times Old Man Grover was a crotchety cuss. Needless to say, they didn't hit it off- and Grover quickly alienated Fren much like he had his estranged son with his surly behavior and unreasonable demands.

"Shirkin' off work again, eh Boyo?" Marzipan said, having come up behind the boy just as he'd begun to relax after sneaking in. The boy yelped and whirled around only to see her standing with her arms crossed and glowering at him.

"See that you use the door next time," She said before he could think up an excuse, "I am tired of having to scrub your muddy boot prints off the wall."

"Yeah, sure Marzi," Fren said with lot a shred of remorse or sign of guilt about leaving Old Man Grover to do the work he was sure to have left half-done if done at all. She narrowed her eyes at him, one final attempt at intimidating the lad into good conscience before rolling her eyes.

"Oh but you are a wretched child," she fought a smile before turning him around and sending him off with a sharp swat to the bum, "Off with you. Grab a bun, as I'm sure you'll snitch one if I didn't offer, and I'll bring you a drink. But you're staying to help clean up afters to pay your way understand."

Fren ducked away from her with a grin before taking a seat at a table not far from the fire, not far from where Doug Hogarth, the pig farmer, was snoring into his cups. The man had slunk into the place near mid-afternoon, sneaking away from his missus who was sure to give him an earful tomorrow. The stench of pig had been near overwhelming when he'd first arrived, but by now the stink had faded some under the prevailing scent of wood burning ash, spilled ale, and sweaty bodies in close quarters.

The evening was disturbed by the sudden arrival of Wystan the Ferryman, hooting and hollering and generally raising a ruckus about the cave that had been the talk of the town for several weeks- the clamor waking Doug from his alcohol induced slumber with a snort and bleary headshake. The tenor of the tavern took on new life as the excitement made its rounds through the room, and the night had gone from pleasantly unusual to potentially exciting. Knowing her clientell, Marzipan quickly ducked down to the cellar to haul up a new keg of mead, the men would want fresh drinks as they planned for this adventure.

Marzi couldn't help but be a bit excited herself. It was rare, but they occasionally got adventurers and warriors who'd come through town- battlescard and wise with fascinating tales of bloodshed and golden treasures. The idea that they could have such a trove so close to home was mind boggling- and she would damned if she missed out on such a prime opportunity.

Returning to the room she directed her cousins to make their rounds, and carrying four tankards herself she wiggled her way to Fren's table.

"Here ya are," She said, thudding the heavy drinks in front of them, "A honeyed mead just like I promised. And you'll be keeping your promise, won't you lad."

The boy gave her a distracted nod and continued speaking, "Real gold! Do you think there would be like- ruby rings and sapphires and stuff like that too? Just over there where you can grab it up- the ferryman's been talking all about it since ages ago. If I were him, I wouldn't have told nobody- just take it all for me and never have to work another day for the old man ever again."

Doug blinked at the boy, still in a bit of a fog- although one could see the idea of riches was slowly beginning to sink in. Marzipan pushed his drink over into his hand, "Drink up Hoggy- I got a fresh spiced ale for ya. You fell asleep in your last so I took it before you ended up wearing it. Wouldn't do for Gertrude to have more to fuss at ya for after all."

"Thank ye kindly," he said muzzily and took a swig, "Tho- though maybe. With this treasure. There's treasure right? Gertrude would like some nicer things yah. Mebby ifn in we had some o'that gold she'd not fuss so much ya think?"

"Oh yeah no doubt!" Fren agreed rapidly nodding his head for emphasis, "Girls like pretty things. She'll be right sweet on you again if you brought her back some shiny necklace or I donno, a dress or something."

The shoe had well and truly dropped for Doug now. The idea of his shrewish wife becoming his sweet Gertrude towards him again was something he'd long given up on- now hope had taken root, and Marzipan knew that if this idea had struck him any sooner the pig farmer might have drowned himself trying to get into that cave.

Even the map maker's pessimistic attitude could not dampen Wystan's mood tonight. "Yer just wishin' you'd have found 'em first," he accused Roman. "Hey, Marzi, some of that mead over here for us," he yelled across the room to the pretty tavern wench as he slid into the chair next to Roman, unable to wipe the grin from his face.

"You still thinkin' bout comin' along tomorrow?" He'd been hinting at the scholar for the past few days that he wanted him to come along, but it seemed like it was time to make it explicit. "No tellin' how many twists and turns and dead ends we might find. Havin' someone long to make sure we don't get lost be mighty handy. Course..." he paused, taking a draw from his pipe, "we'll still share the treasure with ya, even if you don't think we're gonna find any."

Roman winced a little at the old man as he crept closer to his place at the table. Judging from the smell he was pretty sure the old man tried to jump in the river himself before he told everyone else. Taking a sip of his water he couldnt hide his underlying excitement no matter how hard he tried, yet kept his composure so the old geezer didnt think his toothless grin won him over. Giving off a long sigh... "Well... Somebody is gonna get lost in those caverns sooner or later, might as well keep you guys from making those caves your new home." Roman gave a grin and a nod of agreement as he passed over a slice of pork over to the old man. "On one condition, not saying we will-cause we most likely wont... But if we do find treasure, lets use a portion of it to fix up this town. Place could use a bit more books and some educated folk to learn from in these parts." Roman looked the man dead in the eye, his snobbish attitude dissapeared and was overlayed with an adventerious smile. "No sense becoming rich nobles in a town full of neanderthalls." He joked.

"HEY WHO YOU CALLIN A NEE-ENDERWHOOSIT?" a gruffy overextended voice echoed behind Roman as an all too familiar bard stuck his callused and overly muscular hand on his shoulder, practically crushing his collar bone. "Nothin' wrong wit bein a lil thick under the skull!" Jack took a knuckle and wrapped against his own head. His wild and wavy hair shuddered as the echo was a bit eerie. "Ive see plenty ol' souls get through some hard times with nothin but yer instink! Even had a close call myself once..." Jack bellowed.

"Here we go-" Roman muttered.

"I could tell yer a time when i was out travlin east o here wit nuthin but me lute and the furs on my back. An outta the damn bushes came an OGRE!"

"You mean a deer..."

Jack strummed a low note on his lute to emphasize the size of the beast. "Big hairy ol fella with teeth the size o my big toe. He came gallopin after me for no damn reason! All i was doin was strummin me lute."

"So there WAS a reason-"

"Quiet i aint dunn yet. So as i was sayin he came clammerin after me, man i turned heel and ran faster that a noble during tax season but that drooling beast just kept gainin on me!" slamming a fist down near Romans cup and nearly tipped it over from his heavy hand. "I had no choice but to think quick off my feet."

"You mean on your feet-"

"Whaa? No i was off my feet, damn thing tackled me to the ground! Only thing between me and that beast was my trusty lute Bella!"

"You named your lute..."

"Hush, so this beast was swipin at me arse and just so happened to strum Bella. That beast winced and thats when i knew i had em!" Jack took his lute and started strumming riffs that echoed through the whole tavern. "That big ol ogre was afraid of me Bella! So i strummed and strummed playing like my life depended on it! That fat ol bitch took off holdin the sides of his head like a harpy scremed her lungs out."

Roman grinned and poked the old geezer with his elbow. "Prolly the only story i actually believe." He chuckled.

Jasmine scooted her chair back and stood up, Thomas and Gerard turning with questioning eyes. "I'm going to go talk to those guys." Nodding toward the old geezer, the rude mapmaker, and the gruff bard, "I think they might be getting together for the caves." Gerard cocked an eyebrow, for his sister had never really been the type to go first for well, anything. "You sure sis? I think our group should be fine on our own."

Picking up her pint, "I can at least find out when the ferry is leaving." Gerard sat back, hands moving as if to say 'Do as you please,' thought Thomas continued to stare, as if he wanted to say something to her. When he didn't, Jasmine picked up her pint, and carried it with her as she made her way over to the older men's table.

Once she was out of earshot, Thomas having watched her go, turned back to Gerard, "Whas that all abou?"

"I don't know anymore, she's been getting weirder ever since Ma started trying to marry her off." He looked at his best friend with comforting eyes, knowing what Thomas had always wanted but would never admit.

Until he did. "Think she'd eva marruh me?" Gerard could hear that the pint was already empty as Thomas set it down, he never even noticed that his friend was drinking that much, that fast.

"I don't know boyo, not if Ma has a say in it. Your dad's a farmer just like ours, you know she wants the largest dowry possible."

Thomas looked a little forlorn at that, continuing, "Maybe if we found enough treasure, your Ma would let me try."

Gerard just shrugged, and waved for the barmaid to top them off, and maybe chat her up a bit, to stop all this talk about marriage and his little sister.

Having arrived at the table with the old geezer, she gave a simple "Hello."

She already had that familiar feeling of nervousness around new people, but she tried to down it with another sip of her mead. "Are you, um, men going to the cave tomorrow? Because, um, me and my brother, and Thomas, are uh, going tomorrow too." Her face was already flushed red, maybe a bit from the alcohol, and a bit from talking to the men, who with the exception of the old ferryman, had a rugged and... mature look about them. And now she was just standing there awkwardly, nervously sipping at her drink, not brave enough to sit down without an invitation, but unwilling to leave without at least a departure time for the ferry.

Will and Beevil sat in a corner, Beevil nursing a beer and Will his water. "I really don't think its a good idea to let Jane come. It could be dangerous, it'd be better that she stay at home." Will pleaded with his brother. "Oh you're just being a worry wart, it just a cave, what could be in there? Besides even if there was something in there you and me could take care of it, and I think she needs a little adventure to take her mind of that her scumbag betrothed." Beevil said confidently waving aside the Will's protests. Currently they were simply having dinner and discussing their plans for the morning when the ferry left. And of course debating on whether any of them should go. Beevil thought they should all go and of course roped Will into it. Will was alright with being dragged along but he didn't think Jane should go and it had been a source of constant debate since Beevil brought the idea up.

"Good!" Wystan exclaimed as Roman agreed to accompany the party, but he was saved from commenting on the scholar's plan for any money gained on their expedition by the arrival of the bard.

"Mebbe we should bring him 'long to scare off any snakes and spiders lurkin' in there," the ferryman said, rolling his eyes slightly.

"Hello" a female voice said and Wystan swiveled his head to look at Jasmine. "Are you, um, men going to the cave tomorrow? Because, um, me and my brother, and Thomas, are uh, going tomorrow too."

"Headed out first thing, lass," the old man replied, looking at the girl, then past her to the table where her brother and friend sat, giving them an acknowledging nod. "To be honest, I was hoping there'd be a few that wanted to go. I believe there's treasure to be found, but I ain't fool enough to think I can do it alone. You lot got any picks or shovels you can bring 'long? River prolly pushed mud over everything."

--

Just as her brothers were arguing about her, Jane pushed the door to the tavern open to find the place buzzing with excitement tonight. Spotting the pair, she worked her way over to them, catching Beevil's eye and trying to sneak up behind Will. Once close enough, she tapped his left shoulder while sliding to the right, trying to make him look the wrong direction. "Don't be such a worrier, Will," she said. She was smiling, but her eyes were slightly puffy and red, as if she had very recently been having a good cry. "I want to go. Imagine! We might find something like... like a ruby! Or gold... or maybe even something magical."

The occasional passing adventurer had told tales of magic and some even believed the tales to be true, Jane among them, though she's never witnessed any herself.

Jacks eyes grew wide with excitement at the thought of this young lass by his side deep down in the caves covered in riches. Her arms draping over his neck as they both sat on matching thrones wearing bright red and purple furs. Strumming a few soft chords as he swiftly moved by Jasmines side. "I believe i have never seen your pretty lil face in these here establishings miss? Id have no doubt rememberin that wild red mane o yours, Almost fraid o burnin meself."

Roman watched and sighed at the poor sight. He could obviously see the bard flexing everything but his brain at the poor young lass. Peering up out of his book to look at the fiery haired figure he couldnt help but give a bit of a greeting smile instantly followed by a quick observation. "Names Roman Connors, the monkey on your shoulder is The infamous Jack Whittle." Roman stated, pushing a book over to the young lady titled. "Fairytale creatures of old lore" Roman smiled and flipped it open to chapter 3.

"Plenty of legends of some nasty stuff living deep down in caves. witches, fairies, dwarfish folk and even dragons." Roman emphasized the dragon excerpt. Giving a raised eyebrow towards the redhead. "Of course these are fairytales but it still proves that these caves are pretty dangerous, otherwise they wouldnt use them as a basis for a story. Are you sure your up for it?" Roman asked.

"Well o course shes up for it!" Jack bellowed wrapping a flexed arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. "Shes a stout lil lass, just one look at those perty eyes and fiery hair and those damn dragons 'ill go runnin off like...like..."

"Cat got your tongue Bard?" Roman said sarcastically.

"Err no just my throats a little parched is all-yea i need a lil mead to wet me whissle- HEY BARMAID! Nother round for me new friends ere!" Jack always had something to say but everytime he took a glance at this girl his words choked up in his throat. It wasnt like him.

Roman watched onward as the bard covered his mishaps and ordered drinks for the table. Not usually the drinker, but he wasnt about to turn down some free mead. "Better call the others you were sittin with to join the party... Since the bard is paying and all." Roman smirked.

Jasmine nodded at the old man, knowing that between her family's farm, and Thomas', they'd have plenty of tools. She was about to turn and leave as she heard the tunes of the bard's instrument, and suddenly, the roguish man was at her side, almost making her spill her mead. Being in this tavern seemed destined to keep her in a state of permanent blushing, and this man's complimenting of her didn't help. Looking over her shoulder at her brother, she found him eyeballing a barmaid, but she did find the eyes of Thomas, and for a moment they locked gazes. She hoped they'd join her, now looking back at the rude mapmaker.

After listening to his introductions, she smiled, "I'm Jasmine, the blonde at my table is my brother Gerard, and the other is Thomas, our friend. And we can definitely bring some tools, we have plenty on our farms." Jasmine was feeling a bit less nervous now, perhaps because this man was a bit more... normal and calm. Listening to his reading of a passage, she was about to answer, when this Jack beat her to the punch, and was now holding her against himself. She tried squirming free, but his grip was iron.

This was not missed by the intoxicated Thomas. He slammed down his tankard and immediately stood up, ready to charge the bard, his face red in anger. Stomping toward him, he found himself gripped and pulled back, "Easy there boyo, easy. I'm sure he meant nothing by it. How about we join her though?" Gerard still had fire in his eyes as he glared at Thomas. He didn't want to be stopped, but he did, for now.

They grabbed their drinks and came up behind the bard and Jasmine. Gerard, overhearing the bard's exclamation, "I think another round of mead is just what we need." Gerard sat down, and patted the bench next to him for Jasmine, who only just now extricated herself from the fumbling bard's grip. Sitting down, Thomas sat next to her, as if the boys were her stalwart defenses. Jasmine took another drink from her mead, noticing it was about half empty now, and saw Thomas staring daggers at the bard. She wasn't sure why he was so angry, perhaps he knew the bard.

Turning back to the mapmaker, "And yes, we are up to it. Don't you worry about that."

Marzipan had heard the ferryman's call for mead and quickly made her way over to his table. Dropping off her last two tankards in front of him and the Mapmaker with nary a word, save for an unseen eyeroll at the antics of the Bard. The only saving grace in her mind was that his money was just as good as anybody elses- and when he was drinking he wasn't singing. Empty of her burdens she made her way through the room picking up empties and clearing away table scraps as she headed back to the bar to gather more drinks for the lot.

She passed by one of her cousin's laden with drinks as well as Fren who was on the move to the same table, off to make some mischief apparently, and leaving poor Hoggy to drink alone as he contemplated the meaning of treasures.

---

Fren, having heard the word 'boyo' from the table across the way decided that was welcome enough for him. He grabbed his honeyed mead and stuffed his sweetroll into his mouth as he made his way to the older boy's table.

"What she gonna want with you anyways?" Pipped in Fren as he slid into Jasmine's empty chair uninvited, "When Ol' man Grover dies I'll get his farm groves- an' then I'll have the biggest farm lot in the village."

The boy puffed himself up, completely unmindful of how ridiculous he seemed as he kicked his feet above the ground and spewed crumbs as he talked, "Mebbe she'll wanna marry me instead. Wives are like mums yeah? I've not had a mum before. Though I'm not so sure I'd want one..."

He wrinkled his nose as he took a sip of his drink, "Girls's gross. Whatdoya do with em anyways?"

---

Marzipan returned to the ferryman's table once again holding twice the number of drinks she'd had before easily, when the Bard bellowed for drinks.

"Oi quit yer caterwallerin'. I've got yer beer," She said from directly behind the man before elbowing him out of her way to place her burden of brews on the table, "We put up with enough o' that as it is when you've a mind to scare off my regulars. So shut yer gob an' have a drink if it will cut yer yappin any."

She shot the girl a glance to make sure she was alright with the buffoon hanging off of her like he was. The girls overwhelmed blush made her seem rather uncomfortable with all the menfolk about her- and Marzipan had no qualms about tossing some overbearing sapp to the muck outside if he'd overstayed his welcome... after he paid of course.

"You be havin a drink now then Roman?" She said to the map maker with a sly smile, knowing well the man's sober habits and penny pinching ways. She much prefered the man's quiet ways to that of the loud Bard's- life in a rowdy tavern tends to make one appreciate the calmer times and the Mapmaker was a quiet man most often.

Romans eyes wandered a bit during the bards rambling and watched as the young boyo sneaked right into Jasmines old seat behind them and started spouting off like he owned the place. He couldnt help but overhear and admire the gall and rhobust attitude was coming from the kid. Such an ego reminded him of when he was younger. He couldnt help but give a smirk only to be turned into a low chuckle when Marzipan gave Jack a swift elbow to the rib, knowing how hard that hit was was a definate sign for Mr. Whittle to lay off the new blood.

"Oohff!, geeze Marzzy you workin part time at the saw mill haulin those logs about, ive had horses that kick softer." Jack stumbled a bit as he held his side, but instantly recouperated the minute he saw the drinks in hand.

Marzipan offered Roman a mug which he gladly accepted. Just as quickly he swapped over the now empty plate and half empty cup over to Marz with a light smile and thankfull gesture while turning around to acknowledge the loud mouth kid "Now Boyo, i remember old man Grover to be quite the farmer, how are you keeping a farm together as well as hold a wife if you keep harking on your chores?" Roman said as he reached over scooped the mug of mead right out of the boys little hands. "You need to learn your duties as a man before you can drink as one, damn swill will rot your brain anyway... You want to end up like ol' Hogarth over there?" He thumbed over to the pig farmer half asleep in his mug again.

"Oh lit the boy be ya yancy nancy!" The Bard noticed the squabble and interrupted like usual. grabbing the mug from Roman. "I had me first drink when i was half his age and look how i came out!" Jack double fisting mugs of mead he quickly downed one, then the other without even stopping for a breath. "Gulp* Haaaah! As sweet and smooth as my lovin lasss Marzzy, another good batch."

Roman sighed and looked up at the barmaid. "Will you be joining us Marzipan? Id rather have someone who knows how to handle themself... While not attempting to handle others of their own accord." Roman gave a rolling eye towards Jack as well as the obvious stare towards the newcomer looking as if he wanted to strangle the bard with his own lute strings.

Thomas was pissed before, then with the new boy's comments about marrying Jasmine, coupled with the nancy bit, the camel's back finally broke. Calmly, he downed the rest of his tankard, stood up slowly and moved toward the bard, whose hands were filled with tankards of his own. He glared at him for a moment, then threw his tankard down, following it up with a fast right hook aimed directly toward the bard's face.

Jasmine had been too busy listening to the back and forth between her table companions, she hadn't seen what Thomas was starting. Gerard on the other hand, did. He was sure Thomas could handle himself, he was the stronger of the two of them, and a lot younger and angrier than the bard. However, he wanted to be able to return to the tavern one day and Marzi didn't put up with this sort of thing. "Shit." He quickly got up and quickly locked up Thomas' arms behind him, before the fight could progress any further. "Come on mate, let's go chill off outside." Thomas was fighting him more than their old mule Matilda. But Gerard had a strong lock on him and steered him toward the doors.

Jasmine just watched with shocked eyes. She'd never seen Thomas start a fight before. Every so often him and Gerard would fight as friends do, but that was about the extent of it. Watching them leave, she considered joining them, but was comfortable and just finished her mead. She looked around for the barmaid, and she now found herself a little hungry. With Gerard and Thomas gone, she turned over her shoulder to the newcomer at her old table, "Why dun you join us hun?"

"Hey!" Fren squawked and pouted as the mapmaker filched his mug of mead out from his hands, "I am too a man. I joost don't like the old man. He's always harpin on me 'bout sommat. Sides, Hoggy ain't so bad. He'll be commin' long to the cave too! Gonna get somthin' shiny for his shrew."

The boy babbled on, mostly talking to himself as the conversation moved on around him. Marzipan rolled her eyes as she moved around the table, "Aye, you won't be rid of me so easily. Somebody's got to wrangle this lot-"

She interrupted herself when she caught an eyeful of the Thomas boy standing drunkenly to his feet and going nose to nose with the Bard. The young man, as jealous a lad as she ever saw them, and before she could get more than a warning sound out of her mouth Thomas swung.

"Oi!" She shouted as the lad's friend lept to his feet and hauled his drunken buddy out of the hall, and she fixed them with a steely eye as they left. That Gerard was a good lad, he knew the rules well and would make sure Thomas sobered up some before he came in again.

"Awww," Fren whined as he hopped over his chair to take the one Jasmine offered, "I never get to see any bar fights. Oh, Hey Hoggy!"

With everyone's attention captured by the commotion, no one had noticed the quite drunk hog farmer carefully making his way to their table. He'd been thinking long and hard over his last cup, about the cave and treasure and had finally come round to a decision.

"Wystan," He said firmly to Roman, before blinking at him and turning to face the ferryman, "Wystan. Wystan you got room enough on tha' ferry o' yours for me? Cause I've been thinkin, an' you know Gertrude. Gertrude ne'er cared for pigs."

Hogarth nodded to them sagely at that, wavering with a ruddy rueful expression on his face. Leaning up he clapped a hand on the mapmakers shoulder, one parts leverage, two parts keeping himself on his feet. "I'll be there ifin you have me or no. No more pigs for Gertrude."
And with that odd parting remark he began staggering his way out of the tavern and towards home- most likely to give his wife the good news.

Roman just sat and watched in awe as the heavily intoxicated kid managed to throw the largest and longest sucker punch in tavern history. Really it seemed that way since Roman took three sips of his mead and has absolutely zero tolerance for alcahol. He couldnt help but give out a satisfying giggle as he watched the bard pay the piper with his cocky attitude. Poor guy never saw it coming, but Roman was placing bets in his head when Jack was gonna piss someone off enough. At least now he'll get sympathies from that redhead and possibly get to see her again, that is if they still decide to come along to the caves.

Jack just halfway finished the mug in his off hand when the kids fist hit him square in the jaw. Unswallowed mead went everywhere and the big ol bard went straight down like a bag of rocks. Even though the bard was now flat on his back, staring at the sky, he somehow managed to save what was left in his mugs. Skills of a true tavern dweller, he sat up off the ground and rubbed his now throbbing jaw. "Yeoooowch ya gadamn tabberknackle eatin straw slingin fekkin milksop! What the feck just hit me?" Jack muttered holding his jaw.

"Pretty sure its called Karma." Roman quipped.

"Felt more like a donkeys hind leg, is me bella okay?" Jack felt around for his lute blurry in one eye as he watched a few blurry people carry something out the front door. "Well you were halfway right, it was an ass..." Roman said taking another sip from his mead. It was getting to his head now and he hardly noticed the pig farmer sneak up on him. "Wynstan? Stan won what?" he asked in a slurred tone before keeling over in his own drink. Thankfully his leather satchel gave him enough leverage not to drown.

Jack still rubbing his face with one hand and drinking whats left of his mead on the other still trying to comprihend what just happened, unfortunately the swill was getting to him at this point too.

"Marzzy darling im just gunna set down here for a bit and catch some winks, its so nice and cool down 'ere its makin me sleepy." within a few moments both seemed to be out like a light.

The next day...

"Here it is!" Wystan exclaimed as he brought the tightly packed ferry up close to the river bank, holding it steady so that they could step off the small craft. "Right over there... see it?" He pointed. "And right there's where I found them coins."

The opening looked to have collapsed inwards recently and a light, continuous stream of cool air poured from it.

The ferryman whistled as he tied the vessel to a sturdy tree near the bank. "Here, take these, will ya," he said to whoever happened to be standing nearby, handing them a rope and a lantern. "I'll grab the pick and shovel."

Jane didn't waste any time, but hurried over to the opening to poke her head instead. "Oh, it's cold in there!" she exclaimed as she looked left and right. "And still a bit wet too," she noted, seeing about an inch of river water still covering the floor as far as she could see... which wasn't very far.

Gerard and Thomas stepped off the fairy onto the muddy bank, both offering a hand to Jasmine, who graciously accepted them both. All three of them had brought a variety of tools from their farms. Jasmine wasn't in her normal attire of blouse and skirt, but rather a tighter fitting pair of slacks and shirt, coupled with sturdy boots and a light pack on her back. Her brothers carried the heavier tools, a shovel each, a pick as well, and of course bundles of rope. She, however, was carrying the most important tools for treasure hunting; the empty sacks for loot. She had a few of the other things, unlit torches, flint and steel, etc, and her brothers wore similar attire to herself.

Thomas' annoyance toward the bard had abated a fair bit after his sucker punching last night, but he was still icy toward the man. The two lads were, as usual, occupying the space on either side of the young woman, instinctively protecting her, as the trio peered into the cavern. The old man had a lantern, so there was no need for their torches to be wasted yet.

Jasmine nudged Thomas, for she'd given him a stern talking to the night before. Sheepishly he turned toward Marzzy, a hand behind his head, "I'm, uh, I'm sorry for losing my temper in your tavern last night. I'll be better behaved in the future." He looked toward the bard, said nothing, and turned back forward. Gerard decided to move things along, "Shall we?"

He started forward into the cave, not going too far, since the lantern wasn't with him, staying where the light from the surface allowed him to see. Jasmine smiled and joined after him, pulling Thomas by the hand, who was only happy for her to even be touching him.

Beevil stepped out of the boat offering a hand to his over-packed younger brother and his sister. "Sure you packed enough Will? You want to bring your smithy to?" he asked resisting the urge to laugh at the size of Will's pack. Will harrumphed disdainfully, as he stepped down into the cave "Its called being prepared, better want not than have not." Beevil rolled his eyes as he helped his sister out of the boat and grabbed a lantern off Will's pack and lit it using his flint and steel. Unlike Will Beevil was using the bare essentials. He had his militia outfit, complete with short-sword and buckler, as well as a small military style pack with him. It contained iron rations, his flint, a torch, and a whetting stone. As well as of course a canteen of water. Beevil stepped forward leading the way with the lantern, eager to see just what lay inside this cave.

As Beevil and Gerard started to explore the cave entrance and the immediate interior, they would notice that the floor slopes just slightly, so that to the right (downhill) the water is slightly deeper. To the left (uphill), it's still wet, but keeping one's boots dry might be an option. The ceiling is about 6 feet tall, so roomy enough for most of the party to stand up straight without hitting their head.