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	[u]Weather[/u]: It is a moderate sort of cold now, advancing against the retreating daylight. Tiny, icy wisps of rain occasionally find their way groundward, though referring to the event as [i]rain[/i], proper, is generous. 
 
	[u]Time[/u]: Dusk. There might be almost enough light to comfortably see by right this moment, but swiftly, the dying of the day is upon you.  

	[u]Ambience[/u]: The taproom has warmed up to a quite pleasant, aromatically pleasing experience. Burning lamps filled with grapeseed oil, burning hearth wood, and the continued scent of the meal hung in the air with a comfortable presence. Simple but well-crafted flatware and dishes clink together, providing a special sort of background noise with the crackling fire. The fire and lamplight flicker with mellow orange and yellow illumination dancing along the walls and furniture.    

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

	The mood of the Coach House turned from the serious to the remarkably less serious in a short amount of time. The majority of it, anyway. There lay a single island of direct and serious conversation still at the table where the majority of the evening's repast was lain. Not complete and total, dread serious, however. Master Urmdrus now had exactly as many foamy mugs of ale as he had hands, and it seemed like that was the way he preferred it. He cocked a curious eye in the direction of Kathryn when she spoke to him, tiny elements of distrust crossing his face with the flattery as it grew into something truly worthy of springtime fertilizer, but the ale sanded out the rougher spots of his mood. Or appeared to. It was difficult to tell with this particular Dwarf. It did manifest the intended effect of making Urmdrus more willing to hear out Victoria's counter-offer. 

	Lizbeth took to being quiet, for the most part. The overall mood shifted when the Bard began to speak, especially as the first part of it was too similar to levying an accusation. She did make one, tentative suggestion over her bowl of soup, [color=darkgray]"Maybe if we're counting everyone getting even shares, we should split all of the unused stuff evenly? Like, what they don't want for their armors and..."[/color] 

	She was swiftly albeit respectfully silenced by the wiry Dwarf, with a sudden look and intonation of, [color=darkgray][b]"You are not old enough to barter by Human years yet. I trade with these people, who brought me good chitin. Another year, little more, I can listen. Not yet."[/b][/color] He turned back to Victoria and the rest of the group (who may or may not have gotten up to various levels of shenaniganry at this point) and hefted one of his mugs to his face. Nary a drop was wasted as he downed the liquid fermentation of local grains and set the drinking vessel upon the table. [color=darkgray][b]"Hmm. Not to barter with food. Shows respect."[/b][/color] He leaned over the table to grab a small loaf of bread and some soup for dipping with the surety of a person who owned the place, else had the implicit trust of those who did. [color=darkgray][b]"Okay."[/b][/color]

	Urmdrus allowed the word to marinate in the moment while he chewed heavily on a chunk of orange-soaked bread. He then noisily slurped down a good portion of his second mug of ale, belched quietly(ish) and nodded. [color=darkgray][b]"Good."[/b][/color] Then louder, so that the others could hear, [color=darkgray][b][i]"Good."[/i] I make the armor reinforcement for the tall one, assassin armor for Violin Lady. Hair decoration and ...hot weather garb... I make with armor cutting extras. But I keep enough to make...[/b][/color] he struggled with the word in Common for a moment, [color=darkgray][b]"...cuirass. Yes. And shield. This is made first. Then one piece to do what I want - this is last."[/b][/color] Anyone keeping up with the math on the deal as it was unfolding would realize that this actually placed him at a position where he claimed even less than the current deal. [color=darkgray][b]"Will cook Ankheg for us all tomorrow, if you give more of..."[/b][/color] Urmdrus raised his empty mug of ale whilst simultaneously downing the remainder of the other. 

	A hearty belch later and the Dwarf raised from his seat and stomped toward the door. He stepped just outside and unceremoniously dragged in two wooden buckets that he had apparently brought with him. [color=darkgray][b]"We drink on this. I start tomorrow early. Also - piss in the buckets. All of you. Need this. I will collect tomorrow morning. Deal?"[/b][/color]

	 Lizbeth began to sidle off, away from the table. She cast her eyes over to the random shenanigans the rest of the group was getting up to and wondered it it was slightly more sane than the conversation the was almost a part of. She did venture one question toward the older Dwarf: [color=darkgray]"Master Urmdrus, you'll teach me how to be a fighter with Lady Kathryn, too?"[/color] The obviously far-from-home Dwarf gave a stout nod, but remained unspeaking in hopes of getting an answer from the party before continuing.