'Man asked for a story.' Friedrych shrugs. 'If you want to lay out a tragedy, that's fine.' He turns to Mr. Migello. 'So how does one end up in the perfume industry?' 

"Well, it looks like our first pit stop is waiting up ahead." Mr. Migello says. During the time of the story, it seems like the sun has been listing across the sky towards the horizon. Down the trail there appears to be a large four-story coach house by the side of the road. A couple of carriages are already pulled up beside it. As Migello's cart draws closer, the sign, "The Bogged Witch" can be seen hanging above the door.

Crispy scoffs at the comment from Friedrych. Critical, yet had no story to offer in return. Typical man. She let it go. Shame to be short one companion so soon.

As the party exits the wagon and begins heading into the coach house, Akaas catches Crispy by the elbow. He waits until the others are a little ways ahead before he speak. "Your story — I'm sorry," the halfling says with concern on his face. "As  someone who has spent very little time outside of a monastery, I may not have any advice for you. But I am a good listener." He gives Crispy a little smile and then heads into the building. 

Borg looks to crispy and gently taps her on the arm. "Come on chick, lets grab a drink, i'll give you a kiss to help you feel better."

Borg always knew what the say when she saw her feathers getting ruffled, and a drink sounded amazing. They always calmed her down. Then she felt the touch on her elbow. Akaas. This one she liked. He had wisdom and enlightenment. She felt comfortable around him. She smiled at him, appreciative of the offer, and said, “I’d like that. I have much to..explain..much to atone for. Maybe you can..tell me things you’ve learned? Your wisdom might help me.”

Friedrych jumps off the cart, aiding Mr. Migello to park it and stable the horses to the best of his abilities. 'The Bogged Witch?' He says as he looks up to the sign. 'Sound like fun.'

He turns towards Mr. Migello. 'What's the travel plan? Stay the night, up at dawn and hit the road when the sun is up?'

OOC: Looks like you knew the Witch personally. :)

Hopefully this place with be better than the dump tavern I used to hang out at, The Whore’s Nipple.

"Well I'll catch up with you in a moment." Mr. Migello says. "I'll negotiate our stay over once I've spoken with the coachmasters, so just enjoy a drink for a good deed done today."

The Bogged Witch

Entering through the main entrance, the group sees that there is a high-ceiling main room, brightly lit by a beautiful golden chandelier with dozens of candles radiating the light that feels bright like a small sun. The room itself seems to have about a dozen groups of people, enjoying their drinks at the end of a day, while a pair of serving girls are moving between the tables to take away empty tankards and take new orders from the patrons.

At the entrance is a small podium with a large book open upon it. It appears to be a log of travellers who have come through this way, perhaps a method of accounting to see how many people they have served within a timeframe. Standing by the podium is a well dressed human gent with slicked back black hair. He shows an air of nobility, though he is obviously a servant. "Welcome to The Bogged Witch coaching house and inn. Is it a table for six, then?"

Friedrych

For now yes, but we may have one more joining us. Finlan says to the waiter.

"Very well, if you would like to follow me." He says, leading the group to the side of the room and two tables down, where a large round table is set out for eight. "We have a special on today of roast pork with apple sauce and fresh herbs from the garden. I highly recommend it, should you wish for a hearty meal after a day of travel."

"That sounds delightful," Akaas says, taking a seat. He rubs his palms together heartily and looks around the coach house with a wide grin.

Perception: 19

Checking around the room, Akaas can see that one of the table of people watches the group as they enter and take their seats. There are five of them total, each of them elves with silvery grey hair and dark brown eyes. It's almost like they are quintuplets, the uncanny resemble between them. The two serving girls are busying themselves, returning with trays of large wooden tankards and serving them to the other patrons. The waiter who led the group to the table appears to have a ruby ring on his hand, which glimmers slightly in the brightly lit room, and seems a little out of place for a mere serving staff member.

"Do you wish to open a tab for your table?" The man asks. "It'd be a single gold deposit, which will be deducted from your total bill."

"Certainly," the old halfling says quickly. He produces a gold coin and hands it to the gentleman.

Crispy sits down next to Akaas and Borg. She orders the special as well, her mouth literally watering. She rurns to Akaas after they open a tab and says, “What was your time at the monastery like?”

Borg will order the special as well and relax in her chair, listening to the others.

Crispy slaps Borg’s thigh. “Where’s my drink?!” she cries at her, then laughs.

The waiter takes the food orders (if you want something other than the special, they have a rabbit stew or chicken breast slices), and hands a slip of paper to the barkeep. He brings over a small tablepiece; a metal fixture with spiralling motifs and a number 8 on the top (looks like an overly prettied table number), before returning to his post as Mr. Migello enters the table and speaks with him.

A maid wanders over, seeing the table sign and lack of drinks. "Anything I can get you, lovelies?"

Borg looks as her thigh muscle is slap and smiles. "I'll get you a drink." Borg will start to get up before seeing the maid she will then order herself and Crispy a drink.