<div class="floatleft">(https://40.media.tumblr.com/c0e34469afec9b7eef53a3bd55311ce9/tumblr_o0eqsxDi5I1utyn51o1_1280.jpg)</div><strong>Wren</strong><br/>Blackthorne Inn<br/><hr/><br/>Loreley had resigned herself to a slow, awful, rainy day. Mostly this meant locals tromping in for a quick sniff of brandy, or just to shoot the breeze between their daily tasks. And that meant mud. and grit. And that meant that Loreley had to be<em>Wren</em>, the sweeping-girl. The hem of her skirt was spotted with the stuff, further shattering her delusions of glamour.<br/><br/>When the door banged open and more squelchy, gritty footsteps followed, she closed her eyes tightly.<em>Great</em>. Still, she put on a smile, and turned towards the visitors, and... well, kind of got stuck there. Out-of-towners! Men with weapons and serious looks. Her cheeks flushed when her surprise was taken as dawdling, and Kaitlin took the men's cloaks and such.<br/><br/>Or maybe Kaitlin was just bored, too?<br/><br/>Whateverthe case, Wren knew to not take her sweeping too close to the men; they seemed to be discussing business, and the "swsh, swsh, swsh" of the birch twigs was probably distracting. When called though, she brought the stew to their table, taking a bit of time to overhear them as she set each heavy crock in front of them; cabbage stew, flavored with bacon and root vegetables, each with a thick slab of rough brown bread.<strong>"Would you gentlemen like anything else?"</strong>Butter is extra!