Either a man with a very ornate helm, or an individual best avoided - either way, Lorraine isn't interested. She's looking for a particular inn, keeping her horse from stepping on or biting anyone and trying to stay with the crowd, all at the same time.<em>White horse, white... well. That one's kind of grey. And Kervin did say something about stabling, as well as work. Something about caravans needing guards? I do hope Sir Horn-helm didn't go in here ....</em><br/>Nothing in this area was in the best of repair, but all the signs were at least recognisable. Here a mug, with a crude brown splot that could represent anything - a loaf, a turd, a hunk of meat. There, a door or two down, was a sign with a shield and crown recognisable. Across the way, the sign Kervin had described, although 'white horse' was generous. However, there did seem to be a brat hanging off the rain barrel who perked up as Lorraine turned her horse in the direction of the inn ...