Baths are drawn and the party gets a chance to scrub and get their gear settled before heading back down for a proper meal. The day passes into evening as basic logistics are made, meetings are setup with local traders and laborers for "unspecified business" and eventually the long day comes to an end. When the party enters their private room they hear a whistle coming from the far corner.

Sitting on the open window's sill is a small boy...no a halfling sitting comfortably. He is kicking his bare fuzzy feet like a child might and otherwise he seems dressed in simple and common clothes.

His whistle was definitely to attract their attention but otherwise he has a cautious look on his face, his eyes darting between the party members and the other corners of the room, always shifting and rarely looking in the direction he is facing.

Overall it seems like nothing is missing however if he was good enough to get into the room awhile ago he was probably good enough to breach the lockboxes of personal affects under each bed....

Angel spoke a single word in a harsh-sounding, unknown language. [Language unknown: "Re!"], and the window behind the halfling slammed shut, cutting off his escape route. "Now, suppose you start explaining what pray tell you're doing in our room," she continued in the Common tongue, her hands on her hips and fingers a mere hairsbreadth away from the daggers at her belt.

OOC: Using Thaumaturgy cantrip to shut the window.

The halfling jumps forward in time to avoid getting clipped by the closing window. He doesn't seem particularly fazed by the action though, or at least it doesn't show on his face. Instead he shifts to be able to glance rapidly between Angel and the window.

"Oh. Ah...hey. That's a nifty trick. A spell slinger, huh? Good to know. Anyway good job with that orc lady by the way. It's kind of impressive you were able to figure out how to get everyone to just... you know...walk away. That is another nifty trick."

The halfling reaches up and smooths out his hair. It looks like one curly red lock had let loose from the thick palate of grease that was keeping what would likely be a curly mess tight and close to his scalp.

"I'm here to tell you that you're all screwed. You know that, right?"

There is no malice in his voice, nor is there any particular sense of concern. His tone is flat and his whole demeanor is that of a paid courier delivering a message, one that he doesn't have much interest in. If he wasn't constantly checking the corners and casting glances around the room it might be an act that would be believable.

For a second his eyes darted across the faces of the heroes, one after another, never lingering, sizing up the entire party constantly. In the span of a half second he raised his hands, empty although the tips of his fingers seemed stained with some kind of black ink or grease.

"No..ah...I'm not the threat. Or rather I'm not the one threatening you. It's Lord Saxton, of course, but you probably already knew that. What you probably didn't know is that Sir Aquilan of the Black Star knows about that castle you found and is planning on attacking it. Now he thinks that it holds the orcs that raided this town here but when he finds out that you beat him to prize he probably isn't going to take it very well. He...ah...he is not a pleasant person on a good day. He tortures and kills when he is in a good mood.

So, yeah, I figure you folks got about a week before that pigstain Aquilan shows up at your new castle or whatever. His army ain't big but Saxton has some…nasty friends. You know what a gnoll is? Well you’ll see. Anyway if you're interested I know of a couple companies that used to work for the Spires and didn't roll over to Saxton. If you are going to fight against Aquilan you'll need their help...probably more. It might help to find a few hundred friends who can fight and take orders."

He turns to head back towards the window but then pauses, nodding to himself as if he just remembered one more piece of information.

"Oh, also. You'll have to kill Aquilan, you know that right? He isn't one to let something like this go and even if you escape I imagine you care what he would do to this town if his revenge was denied. He will come for your personally. Cygnatious, their wizard, let slip their plan. While the army assaults the walls, Aquilan will slip inside and kill the orc chief. No more orc chief so that means he's going to come for you. We don't know what it is but Cygnatious made it sound like it was some kind of magical tool or spell, not your standard B&E, so be ready for that."

He pauses at the windowsill, moving as if to reopen the window and make his exit however he seems to have an almost pathological inability to turn his back to the party so he just kind of stands next to the windowsill at an angle, his eyes continuing to dart among the adventures and the shadows of the room.

"So...ah...that's it from me. I'll just be making my exit now. No need for anyone to do anything unpleasant, right?"

There wasn't fear in his voice but it wasn't a necessarily a threat either. Just a professional making sure the job was wrapped up to everyone's satisfaction before he went on about his day. The causal nature he was treating everything was strange but it didn't seem to be an act. It seemed like this really was an ordinary evening for him.

Talia's hackles were up about a split second after Angel's. At the sudden slamming of the shutters, she jumped a bit. But the curious admixture of traits in the halfling soon just had her confused.

Then he started talking, and her hackles went beyond raised.

Time.

Time had been an ally when they thought they were beneath notice or outside it. But, it seemed, they were firmly on the list of things Lord Saxton wanted to see sorted. She cursed under her breath; they'd been so careful! The halfling was moving to exit and she frowned at him in confusion, "You come to deliver a message and offer contacts but won't stay long enough to see if there is a return message or an offer for the mercenaries?"

Talia put her hands out flat at her sides and tried to push all the tension down. Unhelpfully, it still all sat firmly in her chest. Grunting sourly, she looked to the halfling and added, "And where can we arrange a meeting with these mercenary captains?" The rest, the warning and forewarnings, could be sorted next.

The halfling pauses, his fingers lightly resting on the windowsill as Talia talks about leaving so soon.

"Oh? Well you know, the clock is always ticking. If you want to meet the mercenaries they can be here by...well... I would say tomorrow. We...ah...we might have already tipped them off that there might be business in these parts. And don't...don't call them mercenaries. You wouldn't...ah...wouldn't want to offend anyone, right? They consider themselves more like loyal men-at-arms for the late Spire family and just don't recognize Saxton as a replacement. You'll see. I think an army marching into town here will be hard to miss. I trust you can find them and...ah...if not well it's probably for the best then, right?"

His fingers start drumming on the windowsill as a kind of nervous tick. His stance and posture seem shifty and nervous but his tone is flat and even, his eyes roaming for threats but not really expecting to find any.

Talia pursed her lips thoughtfully. She regarded the halfling levelly as she slowly worked through what he had said. Talia knew that intelligence was not one of her strong suits. Her arm and her strength, yes, her mind was average. Well, her mother had always complimented her, but that was what mother's did, right?

Slowly, she nodded and relaxed. Letting the halfling leave was going to have to be acceptable. It sounded like they had work to do. She smirked, "Well enough, messenger. Scurry back now. We'll see about doing waht is needed. Thanks for the warnings though."

She then raised an eyebrow at the other three ladies with her. She wanted to know what they thoughts of these fighting men approaching. And of the news that their buffer of anonymity had never truly existed. She'd been hoping to go unnoticed for a time. She sighed as she discarded the hope.

Orila took a fighting stance. It was a bit comical sense the goliath wasn't in her armor. But the intensity of her eyes showed her willingness to tear the halfling apart. But she watched and waited as the message was delivered. She relaxed as she understood that there was a greater threat coming. "We going to let him go? I don't like sneaks coming and going as they please." She pulled the maul from under the bed. It looked like she intended to sleep with it near her.

The halfling lets out a little 'heh' at Orila's comment.

"It's...ah...kind of how things are done around here. Thieves guilds don't exactly come through the front door, you know?"

Talia raised an eyebrow at the halfling's comment;wasn't a halfling thief just a touch cliché? Still, she made a soothing motion toward Orila as the massive maul made its presence known. "However it works, sir, this is a place for country grammar. Not the city. But your information is welcomed. We have much to ready for."

She looked at Orila, "I've no need for him anymore, but I won't stop you if you feel strongly about his habits."

Orila looked over the halfling, "Tell me your name. So shall I just call you short boy?" She set the maul on the bed. "I thank you for your information. I imagine that you already know our names."

The window slides up and the halfling takes back his seat on the edge of the sill.

"Willoughby. Twobuckel."

And with that he leans backwards, toppling out of the window and disappearing from sight.