The tankard that had held a cheap ale, clanks against the bar top.    A belch roars out in response to the clank of pewter.   The  inn keeper looks over towards the small folk, a halfling.  One of the most uncouth of her kind he had seen come through in a long time.   At the moment she wiping her right forearm across her mouth.    Sitting astride the bar stool.  As if she were riding a mount.    The stool wobbles for moment.<br/><em>"Whoah lassie."</em>She mutter as it were a riding dog.<br/><br/>The smoke of tobacco is beginning to bug Vulvalea.  Slipping down off the bar stool.   It was time to find something.  Coin running low,  and not much excitement right now.    Heading out of the inn.   The halfling would not notice the others as she stepped out of the inn.    Pausing right in front of the door.  As she stops to scratch her crotch.  Noticing the others right outside now.   She toss a glance over to the three.   Squinting with the sun in her eyes.     As she peered up at the three.   Her hand vigorously satisfying the itch she has with her crotch.