Jacques De-Mortae loved little burges, the large horseman entered with, not quite a swagger, but a spring in his step. he had been through another rough fight, and it showed. nicks and cuts tore away his clothes and broke his shash across his chest, a small chunk of his white fur had been pulled out during a fight with a ghoul. It didn't take long to grow back, but it had hurt.<br/>still, he'd done a good deed. even in the employer had jiped him on the payment. the Three Traders paid better by far. Jacques knew people looked at him funny in these border lands, they concidered him cursed, and he knew it. He had long ago learned to ignore the stares, though one of the women at a table was sizing him up.<br/>But "here innkeep... payment for one night, and two meals, one tonight, one in the morning. also... if you've got any grain based ale... I'd like a drink." he placed the gold coins on the table, with a few extra. most people got over their prejduces quickly when coin was involved, some required more coin than others.<br/>The tall swordsman took his drink and walked over by the fireplace to warm his feet, and drink a drink that had been a long time coming.