The Drunken Dog tavern wasn’t a hotel, really.  It was an avenue for wild ideas and impolitic schemes that would make a priest cuss.  As such, Oldret wasn’t accustomed to such high-minded clientele.<br/><br/>“Fruits?” He asked Dalea, visibly annoyed by the innocuous demand.  “You want me to bring you a bowl of fruits?  Who do you think you are?  The Queen of Korvosa?”<br/><br/>He glared as he put out a wooden bowl of nuts.<br/><br/>When Salvatore inquired after a hedge witch, the barkeep gave him the evil eye as he dried an ale mug with a dirty rag.<br/><br/>“I am afraid I have never met your mother, sir!  Now it you will excuse me, I have a tavern to run!”<br/><br/>Dalea:  If you succeed a knowledge (local) check of 10 or an equivalent gather information check, you will know of a nearby market where you can buy fruits.  This place is a dump, and you probably wouldn’t want to ear here anyways.<br/><br/>Salvator:  If you succeed a knowledge (local) check of 10 or an equivalent information check, you will find that there is a hedge witch not more than an hour from hence.