Greynull reaches inside his cloak and brings out something hidden in the sleeve of his cloak. He hands it to Bryon. She feels round hard things within.

[In an earlier thread, I had Gondioque hand Greynull plenty of coin.]

This is exactly the behavior the people here expect.  Of course Orcs are nasty, they all are.

And they are poor, but not stupid- every roadside inn keeps a little something on hand for those rare occasions when an Orc simply demands it.  No one wants to face the wrath of an angry Orc.

Fortunately, they also know that Orcs are utterly unfamiliar with cuisine, and will happily eat virtually any meat, in any condition.  Nothing has to be fancy, or even competently prepared.  (they know nothing of Druk's sort of Orc, obviously.)  So they all stash away some tough, salted meat.  Dry, chewy preserved strips, with no attempt at seasoning (why waste that on Orcs who don't appreciate it) but do satisfy Orcish hunger.  (An Orc would never complain that meat is too tough- that would lead to the other Orcs mocking him.  "You got weak teeth!")

The humans, of course, do not have to endure tough salted dried meat.

The locals provide quick, but very quiet service, watching and being attentive, but saying nothing.  Not even friendly small talk.

 ooc cha-ching Greynull's got t the readied

More meat! And gravy ,,, and pepper. And drink. I want hard drink.

Says Druk. And he appears sour and drunk and pinches a local girl till she runs away and as he drinks he mumbles to himself seemingly note interested in drink and not caring about the humans but he listens to the others those speaking their own conversations away from him.

Bryon smiled and handed over the coins (not all the coins, she has learned something), a handful of the pretty silver ones. ”There. Now we are good, yes?”

Greynull accepted whatever food was offered. He now watches with interest the reactions to Bryon's prodigality. In particular, he watches if any eyes light up with illicit greed.

The server accepts payment from Bryon, and without any reference to a menu or prices of any kind, seems to know what things cost.

To Bryon, it seems well within expectations.  Bryon is not exactly a math genius, but she has spent enough time working as a hostess for an inn to know roughly how much silver is traded for food and drink.

On the other hand, Bryon knows city prices, and experienced travelers know that city prices, with their rents and taxes and other things embedded within, and often well above country prices.  Though there is no overt greed, it's quite possible that Bryon is being charged in excess of what the locals would pay.

Figuring that out is not easy. It's hard to tell what the locals pay because the system here seems to be based on informal credit and barter.  The cash economy appears to have been shattered by too much plundering of the cash.  Someone pays for their dinner with some yards of homespun cloth, everyone seems to know instinctively how much cloth is worth soup, bread, and weak wine, and there's no coins to be taxed or stolen.

The staff is still reluctant to talk about anything in front of Druk, drunk Druk or sober Druk.  One never knows what might irritate an Orc, so the best thing is to avoid talking altogether!

You can tell that although you are the only travelers now, travelers come through frequently.  This makes sense, as the town is sitting right on the major road.

Bryon grinned and looked very proud of jerself. She the bag of money back to Greynul with a nod of thanks. She then took out her Glamour book and began looking at all the wonderful pictures for an untold number of times. It is her favorite book. She likes to make up stories about the women in it. Her little owl kept watch on the roof of the Inn...

Greynull manges to look matter-of-fact when he takes the purse. After that, he sits where his back is covered and he can see in left, front, and right.

Pleased the long legged's did not succumb  to any harmfull substances, which could have been applied to their food, Mystal partook of the available dishes.

Dinner is a very quiet, very dull affair- the locals try to avoid interaction as much as possible, and the characters don't appear to be seeking it.

Only Mystal is in a position to hear anything beyond the most banal chatter.

She catches snippets of conversation between the locals- when, of course, they are out of earshot of the travelers.

Mystal slipped beside Greynull, and quietly related her observations to the long legged.

Who impassively listens as if bored. Only a wink of the eye nearest Mystal might give the conversation away.

Mystal paused mid-sentence, she had been whispering in old Aeldar
This message was last edited by the player at 07:42, Mon 02 Nov 2020.

Greynaull mutters, turning this head as if something on that side interests him.

In reply to Greynull Nepris (msg # 45):

Mystal's ooc reaction can't be seen but is (her closed hand rises to her mouth in shock, stifling a squeek of alarm, as her eyes dart about in near panic.)
This message was last edited by the player at 19:18, Mon 02 Nov 2020.

While leafing through her book she came upon the portrait of the woman whom she still believes to be Gondioque despite her saying it wasn’t. ”OH! Look, it is the princess.” She turns the book to Greynull and pointed, ”Look, don’t you think it is the princess? I know...maybe a sister or her mother. It is so lovely. The dress is so perfect for her figure. I would love to go to a ball in that dress.” She blew a razberry, ”I wish I were at a ball right now. Wouldn’t that be lovely? Dancing with a handsome gentleman...”

Greynull bends over the book, apparently making a close inspection. Druk is your gentleman. Coyly get him, and us, out of here. Yes, a remarkable similarity; but, if she says it's not her portrait, it's not of her. Who does the book say it is of?

The book is just portraits of beautiful women in wonderful clothing. Bryon stood and closed her book, pushing back from the table and she began to walk out of the tavern.

??

OOC: Greynull asked whose name was on the portrait. The book is called “Cosmopolitan.” It is just pictures of pretty women in pretty clothes.

Because of something Greynull said, Bryon is leaving the tavern.

Mystal watches as the ling legged called Byrons exits the tavern. Quietly asking Greynull if he thinks she is upset

Greynull looks at the retreating Bryon, shrugs, and takes a drink.

(We wait for Druk?)

Druk eats himself full and looks to the others - he ignores the back and forth but can't help notice the woman leave. He lets out some gas from both ends.

"Slave..." he says to Greynull and gestures at Bryon "watch my woman that her pissing is unmolested and make sure our other animals are secure from thieves. Bring her to me in the street when she's done - I want a walk."

He stands, stretching his arms as if he owns the place and goes out to his walk.

Greyn null bows and leaves.

When he catches up to Bryon, he tries to explain. The locals know something is not adding up with us. We're weird. We need to leave. You don't have to bed Druk, who's a good fellow by the way, but the only way you can pass as a reasonable part of our company is as his doxy. Druk, himself, has to pass as a half-insane orc.

By the way, you might find him an energetic, cooperative bedmate who will be grateful.