"Its bin' a lang time lassie. I dinnae ken wa' wi be the an'ser to tha'. Wait an' see." Sour Belly answered easily. There seemed to be an extra spring in the Dwarf's step and though it was hard to tell past the beard she did seem to sound more smiley today.<br/><br/>They stopped for lunch by a stream and filled their canteens before continuing on. The sun was a hand and a half above the horizon when the cooking fires of the village Sour Belly had mentioned started to appear. Within an hour hour they were walking into the place, having set a cracking pace in the last stages of the journey of the day.<br/><br/>The people of the village looked a little suspicious and wary of the them, didn't really talk to them, but didn't hinder them either. Sour Belly lead them to an inn, 'The Lusty Maid' and pushed her way inside.<br/><br/>The place was well kept, smelled of sour beer and stale dreams, but it was clean and not too loud. A coaching inn once it had both private rooms and a large common area for sleeping. Sour Belly cosied up to the bar, "Green Bart still keckin'?"<br/><br/>The barman observed the Dwarf down a nose you could mount on the wall and mistake for a moose, "Nope. Dead and long gone. Who be you? What you be wantin' with dead folk?"<br/><br/>"Ee we' a gud mate back in t' day ye' ken?" The Dwarf stated, "Ad' a laugh an' tha'."<br/><br/>"He's been dead twenty years. Buried out back. You can pay your respects there." The inn keeper intoned in his deep voice.<br/><br/>"Och aye, I will at tha'. I be a'vin' a ruum' ifn' it please ya." Sour Belly smiled showing her gold teeth.<br/><br/>"It don't frankly, but you can." The flinty look the inn keeper offered was cold comfort.<br/><br/>A price was negotiated and finally, clutching a pair of jugs of the local cider 'gutrot' Sour Belly lead Rain to the room in question. "Tha' cud' a' gun worse. Fucker has a nose mak' a green skin blush."