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	[u]Weather[/u]: Mostly cloudy. It is becoming actually cold now, rather than merely chilly outside. the tiniest hints of precipitation still find their way to the earth below. 
 
	[u]Time[/u]: Early evening. The sky is a lovely shade of deepening purple with the arriving twilight.  

	[u]Ambience[/u]: The taproom's mildly uncomfortable temperature had been successfully abated by a pleasant mixture of the hearthfire, grapeseed oil lanterns, and the movement of active bodies within. The warm and filling meal, admittedly, did a fair amount of the work as well. Lamplight flickers along the walls in pleasant ways, giving cheery illumination. Scents of good food and better wine linger in the air, mixing with the pleasant lamp oil and burning hardwood. In short, it's rather nice. 

[center][color=darkgray][h2]*****[/h2][/color][/center]

	Lizbeth looked over the drawings of the interesting flora and fauna of the desertous regions past the mountains far to the south with interest. There were occasions where she would ask a small, supporting question like, [color=darkgray]"Does its face look like a horse's or is it different?"[/color] and observations such as, [color=darkgray]"So it's like thistle stems, but spinier. Okay."[/color] and [color=darkgray]"Grandpa said that you need to have friends in the desert, or you would proably die. Is that what it's really like?"[/color] Even the somewhat darker thought of, [color=darkgray]"So if the camels also store water, how do you get it back out?"[/color] was voiced. The last one had a somewhat unsettling smile attached to it.

	The young lady kept her discussion about the Tinker's son rather terse, apparently preferring not to dwell upon it for very long. But she did answer openly. [color=darkgray]"He is clever, and good with his hands, like his papa. They only come by once in a while to see if we needed anything repaired that Urmdrus hadn't gotten to yet. Sometimes I would drop something of mine from a window or hit it with a hammer just so he might fix it, if I saw the Tinker's wagon coming up the lane."[/color] While her wish to speak about herself and her crush was repressed presently, her duties as a host were not. Seeing the growing state in which Kathryn was putting herself, Lizbeth rose from her chair and fetched a sizeable portion of bread and soup to help fortify Kathryn's blood against the less desirable effects of the wine, as well as a flagon of water. [color=darkgray]"Maybe we won't start training so early tomorrow, Lady Kathryn. It'll be okay."[/color] She smiled in a genuinely kind and nurturing way. 

	Oddly, Baronfjord's question put her a little off guard for a second. She recovered. [color=darkgray]"I really wouldn't mind having an adventure or two before settling down and having to take care of the family Vineyard, and Aunt Cecily tells me that the soldiers train for two or three months before they get into the Royal Army. With a real-life Knight training [i]just[/i] me, I'm sure we can make me as good as any line soldier in like ...half that time! And all the rest of you showing me good things, there's no telling what kind of adventurer I might become before winter is done!"[/color]

	Lizbeth was about to address Victoria concerning what Victoria had said about her upbringing, even with a familiar look on her face. But the moment she opened up to speak, the main door to the Coach House burst open, admitting an abrupt figure. The gloom of twilight silhouetted a figure of shortish stature and a shorn-bald head. As the figure moved into the room proper, the door swung back shut and the firelight revealed the sudden visitor. It was a Dwarf male, from the look of him. He had a thick beard, braided at the edges and cut to a straight across, broom-like shape at its end. His skin was a stony shade of grey, marked with thick, black, tattooed lines on the left side of his face. The build of this particular Dwarf was a little un-Dwarflike - he was broad of shoulder but slender of limb, with ropes of hard, sinewy muscle standing out in his bare arms. The Dwarf wore thick woolen garb, stitched for practicality rather than fashion and sturdy leather boots with metal toecaps and heels. A laden toolbelt was slung about his waist with items from a half dozen professions present, some of which would easily double as weapons. 

	He spoke to Lizbeth first. [color=darkgray][b]"Lizbeth. Safe, very good. Heard what you say just then. Maybe come to me; learn soldier craft."[/b][/color] He spoke with a strange accent; strange at least for a Dwarf from anywhere around this region. Also, he phrased his words as a person for whom the Common tongue of trade was learned later in life. 

	Lizbeth cheerfully exclaimed, [color=darkgray]"Master Urmdrus!"[/color]

	A quick [color=darkgray][b]"Harrumph,"[/b][/color] and he continued, [color=darkgray][b]"Tomas say your friends have Ankheg in storage. I look in storage. There is a lot."[/b][/color] His eyes moved from person to person in the taproom, sizing them all up with scrutinizing glares. [color=darkgray][b]"Hum. Yes. You all save the women of L'Rose. I will help you. Help comes with barter. Yes?"[/b][/color] Without waiting, he continued with his offer, [color=darkgray][b]"Few steaks of good bug meat, first. What remains of the chitin when I finish with it, second. Do what I want with it. In return, help. Chitin makes good armor. Weightless armor. Durable, light shields. Shows enemies you killed Ankheg. Reinforce Human chain with tough green plates. Reinforce leather, hide under clothes. As good as Underdark centipede shell for armor. Deal with me?"[/b][/color] 

	His eyes found the cask of ale on the bar and he licked his lips lightly. Cocking an eye back to the group, he suggested, [color=darkgray][b]"Drink on this deal?"[/b][/color]