The clatter of a properly shoed horse, creaking of an old wagon, leering of an odd merchant and the sound of fifteen marching accompanied Laurin on her way to Caergoth from the south. Ofcourse it seemed important to note that it was indeed, only the sound that accompanied the damp pair. Laurin was NOT about to walk the distance it would take to reach  Caergoth. Instead, she reasoned with a man that she could save him a great deal on travel expenses if he chose a route that offered concealment. That she had been asked (read: coerced) to leave her robe open when the rain picked up had her a bit miffed. Drying off once she reached the city had become her number one priority.<br/><br/>Within ear-shot of the guards, Laurin dispelled the impromptu mercenaries and proceeded to walk the rest of the way. After asking a guard for directions, she meandered around puddles as the ever-thining city traffic dwindled. Upon opening the door however, her senses were assaulted by loud chatter, gruff faces in abundance and the mixed scent of so many bodies in one place as well as half dry rain-watered clothing. Shutting the door behind her, she also noticed many eating what looked to be stew. -Peachy,- she thought, -you'd figure a house that merchants frequent would be able to afford to cook meals in methods that doesn't make everything taste the same.- She pondered a bit while scanning the crowd for an empty table. Or atleast, an empty seat. -I hope the drink they serve isn't some watered down swill...-