A few minutes after Gretla returned from the back, a large man bearing a resemblance to her emerged. While barely a head taller than Gretla, he was clearly the source of her solid frame. Undoubtedly Gretch, his distinctive beard ruined by a large, angry scar on the left side of face, he is bearing a tray with several items, which he deposits about the Inn.<br/><br/>The first is the pitcher of wine with Raeni. It’s not surprising she pay the man enough attention to tell it’s not his daughter. He puts another helping of potato stew and ale on the railing for Holly. “Ah hope it’s tuh yer likin’, Little Miss,” he said to her, as he pulled his brawny forearm away from the meal. He turned to Alice, “Ya need aneht’ing else, Al?” He waited for a response before crossing back over to Jacen and Mara. “Sorry ‘bout the mix-up, son,” as he set a plate with two apples and a slice of cobbler in front of Jacen. “And what about you, Sweet Sue? If ya don’t need nothin’, I gotta go put the cat out.” Finally, he turned to Alex. “Anythin’ fer you, Red?” If she didn’t respond, he headed back wait for Mara.<br/><br/>Gretla was softly humming and singing below them as she cleaned. Soon after Gretch returned to the back, she climbed the stairs with her feet covered in mud. Before scaling the last step onto the upper tier of the Inn, she placed one foot in the last of the water in a bucket and began to rinse the mud off her stout calf and foot. Cupping water in her hand, she poured it down her shin and worked it through the mud. She did it again and kept going over her foot, dark river mud shed from her fairer skin. She repeated this with her other foot and caught Alex’s eyes momentarily. Her motion stuttered a moment before she continued, furtively looking up once or twice more. Finished, she picked up the mostly empty buckets and hurried to the back of the Inn.<br/><br/>Once she passed, Alice and Holly both spy something shiny in the mud she’s pushed out through the gap in the lower tier’s walls.<br/>