Marzipan had been one of the first people on the ferry that morning, and now one of the last off- busy helping coordinate the mob into some semblance of order and making sure that no-one was overly burdened or not carrying their share. Once such being the young Boyo, who had spent the night at the tavern (like so many of the others had) to avoid being caught by his old man and forced back on the farm. Marzipan had laden Fren with a backpack full of foodstuffs, water and wineskins full of ale for celebration. Who knows how long they'll be down in this cave treasure hunting- she made sure she had enough for a light lunch and supper that would be easily carried by one person. Not that that stopped the brat from whining about his load- he wanted to hunt for gold not be a pack mule.
She ignored his whining easily however, turning her attention to the rest of the group who were now disembarking on the bank. Making sure her thick work-skirts were well secured and tucked up away from the mud, Marzipan hopped down as well- testing her way with the tall and sturdy simply carved walking stick she'd found for herself. It was about the height of herself and thicker than a broomhandle around- perfect for testing the cave walls, floors and ceilings for weakness, leveraging rocks away, or bashing in heads... if the rumors about what dwelled in caves was true she wouldn't be without a weapon even if it was of the simplest sort.
Marzipan was roused from her examination of the cave's entrance by the Thomas lad, his sheepish expression as plain as the fact that he'd been cajoled into his apology by Jasmine. How the girl didn't realize her hold on him was beyond her, the young man was quite clearly infatuated with her.
"S'no matter laddie." She said, willing to let the incident slide as just another bar brawl, "Just see to it that it dont happen again. That Bard may be asking for a wallop e'ery time he opens his mouth but it's a bad habit to get into."
"Speakin of..." She said to herself as the young men moved on into the cave. Stepping nimbly through the mud she made her way to the Bard's side. He'd caused a ruckus with his ruddy snoring all night on the floor of the tavern- the drunken lout had been impossible to move or rouse until the dawn had just begun to break- and she was aiming for some swift retribution for the inconvenience.
"Good Morn Bard, " She said with a purposefully loud voice- not quite shouting but raised quite a bit, and as they were near the mouth of the cave now, a very clear echo of her strident tone was ringing back at them, "A Fine Day For Another One O'Your Adventures Now, Aye? How's The Head?"
"Ugh," Grunted Hogarth as he came up behind them and caught some of the resounding sound to his ears. He slogged through the mud with a familiar trudge and a rather sour expression on his face, his pitchfork dragging in the muck behind him. The man had been in a particularly grouse mood this morning- more than what the tavern regulars would have come to expect from the hung over hog farmer.
She ignored his whining easily however, turning her attention to the rest of the group who were now disembarking on the bank. Making sure her thick work-skirts were well secured and tucked up away from the mud, Marzipan hopped down as well- testing her way with the tall and sturdy simply carved walking stick she'd found for herself. It was about the height of herself and thicker than a broomhandle around- perfect for testing the cave walls, floors and ceilings for weakness, leveraging rocks away, or bashing in heads... if the rumors about what dwelled in caves was true she wouldn't be without a weapon even if it was of the simplest sort.
Marzipan was roused from her examination of the cave's entrance by the Thomas lad, his sheepish expression as plain as the fact that he'd been cajoled into his apology by Jasmine. How the girl didn't realize her hold on him was beyond her, the young man was quite clearly infatuated with her.
"S'no matter laddie." She said, willing to let the incident slide as just another bar brawl, "Just see to it that it dont happen again. That Bard may be asking for a wallop e'ery time he opens his mouth but it's a bad habit to get into."
"Speakin of..." She said to herself as the young men moved on into the cave. Stepping nimbly through the mud she made her way to the Bard's side. He'd caused a ruckus with his ruddy snoring all night on the floor of the tavern- the drunken lout had been impossible to move or rouse until the dawn had just begun to break- and she was aiming for some swift retribution for the inconvenience.
"Good Morn Bard, " She said with a purposefully loud voice- not quite shouting but raised quite a bit, and as they were near the mouth of the cave now, a very clear echo of her strident tone was ringing back at them, "A Fine Day For Another One O'Your Adventures Now, Aye? How's The Head?"
"Ugh," Grunted Hogarth as he came up behind them and caught some of the resounding sound to his ears. He slogged through the mud with a familiar trudge and a rather sour expression on his face, his pitchfork dragging in the muck behind him. The man had been in a particularly grouse mood this morning- more than what the tavern regulars would have come to expect from the hung over hog farmer.