The Escort

Cail was lightly dozing in the rafters of the musty place as the gentleman walked in. As he heard the bag of coin tossed upon the table, he removed his head from the crook of his leafy wing and looked below him. The Druid removed himself from the rafter and floated to the floor below. As he landed, a thud that would have never seemed to come from so "light" a creature was heard. Standing upright on his talons, Cail was easily the size of a man in his Avian form.

Looking to the noble, Cail cocked his head to one side and gave a questioning look. It was either that or a look of "why have you disturbed my slumber." Though he knew not many in the Upper Metsar were willing to just toss coin around in taverns such as these without a purpose.

The jingle of thecoin purse was enough to get the riven to peer over his beloved mirror. "Hmmm. What is it we have going on over there? Deal gone south? Perhaps some sort of royal party! What do you think, Mr. Undertow?" the riven asked his compatriot.

"Silence." The dark elf, responds. "Ya draw too much attention to self." He takes a sip of steaming tea. Then he peers over, also slightly curious to what is going on.

"As if my beauty hadn't already had the rooms attention as it were? Ha!" Pelle looked over the strangely large owl. "They sure have large birds around these parts. I'm surprised they let the creature inside."

Cail, hearing the Riven's remark, seemed to grow slightly, adding another couple of inches to his overall height. Turning his head a little to look at the source of vocal observations out of the corner of his eye, he let a small puff of air escape though his nostrils in a single chuckle.

The dark elf looks over at the winged beast, recognizing him somewhat though usually in a different form. Then looks back to his ally and just shakes his head. "Nada tree you wan' ta go barkin up."

Pelle looks from his elven friend to the owl again. "And what sorts of tree would I be barking up, I dare ask? The large feathered kind, I suppose?" The riven stashes his beloved mirror back into his pouch as he stands from his seat. "Do you think it bites?" he asks Mr.Undertow as he takes a step towards it.
 

Undertow just does an exaggerated heavy shrug and waits to see what happens next, hoping it garners much amusement.

Seated a few steps from the others, Thalenir makes an effort to enjoy the lumpy gray porridge that passes for a local delicacy, but it's clear the dish is at odds with his stomach. "A highland nobleman," he says just loud enough for the others to hear. "Nothing odd about that. Traveling with guards seems peculiar, though. He can expect reasonable safety in Sendai."

"My guess," he says, pausing to sip from his mug and get the taste out of his mouth, "is that he's bound west for Nashiro through Traitor's Pass. Neither the journey nor the destination are bound to be pleasant for any of them. Hence the ill tempers and the amount of coin." He shrugs. "But that's just a theory. Why not ask them?"

The nobleman scans the patrons and walks to the bar. Leaning in, he converses in hushed tones with the Bar Keep. The Bar Keep points in the direction of the PCs.

Keg looks up from his mug then back down again. He appears deep in thought.

Cail nods slowly in agreement with the Dark Elf who he had only briefly met a couple of times as he watched the Riven come closer. At the same time he listened to Thalenir's words and pondered them to himself.Turning his head to look behind him he watched as the barkeep and the nobleman conversed as well.
 
As the barkeep pointed towards their small gathering, Cail paid even closer attention to what they were about to do.