Clara Reinford stepped into the inn and was almost immediately taken in by the story that seemed to have the place in a hubbub.  A captured royal, no matter how minor, was definitely the kind of adventure she was looking for.  This could be the start of her own story, one that she'd be proud to tell to her children and their children and all the rest of her family.  Adventuring ran in the Reinford blood, and Clara was eager to prove that she was no different from her ancestors.  She could and would leave her story to be told for generations, to inspire others like the stories had inspired her.<br/><br/>However, as she looked around the inn, she found the pickings slim.  She thought joining up with another group would be good, but all of them seemed to be either very shady, or woefully underprepared.  The trio of dwarves and the halfling looked like they might be a good group to party up with, but Clara didn't like the way they were looking at the others.  It was clear that there were going to be multiple parties going after this bounty, but that didn't mean that they should be backstabbing each other.<br/><br/>Sighing, she took a seat at a table near the bard and tossed the man a copper for his time.  She kept her eyes on the other patrons of the bar and anyone else that was coming in.  Perhaps she could put together a party of her own.  She just needed to find some strong looking new friends.