The small man beams, his big smile growing even bigger. “Why yes I am!” he says, stroking his twin forked beard. “I see that my reputation precedes me. Well I will have to live up to my myth!” he says, striking a pose. He bursts into laughter and slaps his knee. “Ahh lass, I shall get you the special and make arrangements to get you a room.” He leaves her soon after to the back kitchens.<br/><br/>As she waits for her food, it gives Catherine some time to look around the inn. It was a rather cozy looking abode, made in a style that allowed for many different clientele. There were shorter, wider tables for the smaller races, a large fireplace to warm the room in the winter seasons and artistic decorations pulling from many cultures: Dwarven statues, Elven woodworking, Gnomish ingenuity, and Human practicality. It seemed the Henry loved to make his place a mixing pot of people.<br/><br/>As Catherine examined the room, Henry returned with a plate resting on his shoulder. He slid it in front of her with a big smile. “Fresh venison with greens and spring potatoes grown from my own garden. I guarantee you’ll love it,” he says. “Oh and here is the key to your room,” he says, handing an iron key to her. “You will be upstairs, room 6. You can pay for your meal and stay at the front desk,” he says walking away, waving to her.<br/>