After the Elf and horse-man had gone upstairs, the innkeeper turned his attention to the dhampir girl. "Arden!" he exclaimed, a big grin on his face as he engulfed the small girl with a great bear-hug. "I'm surprised ya decided ta pass through 'ere again, especially this late in the year. 'Ere," he said, grabbing a pair of large mugs and a full bottle of honey mead, "come o'er by the fire 'n let's have ourselves a drink 'n a chat." After they had seated themselves by the fireplace, the innkeeper filled both mugs, and Arden threw another log in the hearth. "Yer just as pretty as ever, ya know that, lass? It's like ya haven't changed a bit since I first saw ya, a few years ago now." Arden blushed a little at the compliment, and hid her smile by taking a sip of the sweet mead. "I've certainly not forgotten what ye've done for me," the innkeeper paused, and both of them looked to a spot above the fireplace, where a hideous, preserved, grey-skinned head hung on the wall, its long tongue dangling from its mouth. "Haha, I remember that day well; the day yer ladyship first graced my inn..."<br/><br/>The two of them drank and reminisced, and Arden listened late into the night to the innkeeper's tall tales of old adventures, until they both grew weary and the mead had begun to take its toll, when Arden withdrew to her room to sleep it off.<br/>