Marcon quirks a brow and says, "Fish livers? I... Oh! Yer talk'n bout from back when. Shucks man... bear... friend -- I-I knew that already. Had Cousin who used hang out with this Bugbear that liked chicken a lot. And was that what she was goin' on about? Huh..." He replied, and turned just in time to see her staring in the hanging back group's general direction. Marcon at least immediately looks away as if guilty over something, and wouldn't look up again until the sound of Vanz' approach drew attention once more.

"To Stonehill then to meet back up with Sildar?" He would ask at that point.

In the center of town stands a large, newly built roadhouse of fieldstone and rough-hewn timbers - The Stonehill Inn. As Rigel enters, he finds the common room filled with locals nursing mugs of ale or cider, all of them eyeing him with curiosity. He identifies what he surmises to be a farmer and a miner sitting at the bar (but not together) and an older woman knitting a quilt at a table near the door. A short, young human male tends bar while a barmaid gossips with another woman as she puts away clean mugs on a shelf. A child plays with a couple of homemade toys by the hearth, which has a small fire burning low. In a far corner, Rigel notices Sildar Hallwinter nursing a mug of ale in a large booth, though he sits alone. The human gives Rigel a nod of acknowledgement when the two make eye contact.

Rigel nods to Sildar and joins him motionong for the others to join them. 

Vanzaren strolls into the inn and looks around, smiling brightly. "Rigel! There you are. You ran off right as we got into town and missed out on all the fun!" He joins Rigel and Sildar and sits down. "So how was your little trip to Barthens?"

Marcon, who having come to realize the goblins wouldn't be running off with Garet around, stepped inside not long after Vanzaren, and lingered by the door to take in all the sights. Though he appeared to have half a mind to hit up the bar at first, Rigel's ushering folk along elicits a disappointed frowns and glum meandering over to Sildar's table. "Start'n to look hail and heartier already, sir. If'n I do say so meself." He says, brightening up fairly quickly once properly settled in. "Everything go alright on both yer ends?" He asked of both Rigel and Sildar.

Ronk mills about at the entrance to the inn for a bit, then cracks the door and slips in quietly. Holding the hat in his hands, the bugbear keeps to the walls, muttering "Pardon me. Excuse me. Sorry." as needed until he made his way to the others. "Uh... Hi again."

Spit and Stopit clamber up onto Garet's shoulders, one stacked on top of the other, giving the three of them nearly fourteen feet of height and a 360-degree view. As dusk passes into night, the glow of oil-burning streetlights provides enough light to see the coming and going of the few remaining townsfolk along the main thoroughfare at the center of Phandalin. No danger is spotted, but up the road to the east, the three can clearly hear a loud, raucous group of male humans who are definitely deep in their cups.

When most of the group is seated at Sildar's table, he drops a sackcloth bag containing fifty gold pieces on the table. "There we are, my payment as promised for your gracious assistance. While you all were out and about in town, I did some checking on the man I was sent here to find, Iarno Albrek. It seems he disappeared nearly two months ago after inspecting the area around the old abandoned manor house on the east side of town. I fear foul play was involved, what with all this talk of "Redbrands" and whatnot. I am meeting with the townmaster, Harbin Wester, here at the Inn at first light tomorrow to further discuss the issue - you are welcome to join in our conversation if you like. I am worried about my friend Gundren, but my first task to find Albrek, though I still suffer from my wounds. Not sure I would be of much use should I encounter a threat that would require violence to solve...if you are willing, I would pay out another 200 gold if you can help me discover what has become of him..."

(OOC: Begin to consider where everyone intends to spend the night. The Stonehill Inn has six rooms, one of which has already been claimed by Sildar.)

Aside from a nervous glance cast in the direction of the bag, Marcon was content to let someone else at the table do the dividing while he listened to Sildar. "Guess'n it goes without saying how important this is to ya, huh, Sir SIldar? Honestly, speak'n sir, I would'a done it fer free. 'nd if those ruffians really are involved-..." He pauses to look around, and double check to see if any were paying too close attention to the group. Once satisfied, he leands and says in a more conspirtal whisper, "I might've found somebody that could lead us to their secret base, if'n ya catch my drift."

Marcon relaxes in his seat. "That bein' said. I'm sure at least to take you up on yer offer 'bout seei'n the townmaster. Could be he knows even more 'bout what's goin' on, and how things got as bad as they did in the first place."

Rigel purses his lips in contemplation as he listens to Sildar and Marcon. When Marcon finishes Rigel clears his throat softly leans in and begins to speak,

"So from what we've learned so far it seems to me that this is where we stand.
The Black Spider hired the Cragmaw tribe, led by "King" Grol to intersept Gundren. Grol sent Klarg and our little pet rats to complete the task. The Black Spider is also the leader of the local band of thugs known as "The Redbrands". However Barthen said he didn't know of any black spider and said that a man named "Glasstaff" was their leader. Could be that Glasstaff is just a lieutenant and the Spider is the true person on charge."

Rigel pauses for a moment before continuing.

"Looks like we have a choice. Go out tonight and attempt to root out this villain or, since the hour is late shall we sleep on it and investigate more in the morning? In addition it would seem that Gundren's brothers Tharden and Nundro may be missing as well. Supposedly they have a camp near here but Barthen hasn't seen them in awhile and they should have come in for supplies. Did anyone hear anything else? Marcon, what did your informant say exactly? Sildar, have you heard anything about this "Glasstaff"? I feel like he could be key to finding the Spider and then maybe Gundren."

Rigel scans his companions looking for a response.

"Well I for one am all for taking down these 'Redbrands'!" Vanzaren leans back in his chair. "I even learned where the little buggers like to spend their free time in this town. Some place called the Sleeping Giant. I say we take the fight directly to them, send a message to those nasty lowlifes that they need to leave this town before they make a fool of themselves. Though if we do decide on that, I'm going to need a new weapon." He takes the bag of coin and starts forming it into stacks for the members of the group. "There we go, a nice stack for each of us. Oh and Rigel, be a dear and hand out the gold we all made for delivering the supplies."

"Anyways, other than that, where are we all going to sleep tonight. I doubt this inn has enough room for the five of us and two goblins." he takes his gold and pushes it into his gold pouch.

Ronk scratches the side of his face, his eyes darting towards the bar frequently, as though just waiting to get kicked out. "If we have time... We might want to take on the gang now." He glances at the piles of gold. "Maybe that will get us discounts... Or not kicked out of places because..." He gestures at himself and his bugbearness.

 Marcon nervously tugs at his collar as he glances between Rigel and Vanzaren. "Uhhh... First off, I'm all fer take'n the fight to 'em, but maybe not at proper establishment. Too easy to get the wrong folk mixed up in the scuff, if'n ya catch my drift. Plus, we don't wanna send'em a message. If'n we gonna hit'em, it's gotta be to wipe'm out. 'cause I heard from my, uh, informant-..." Marcon makes this odd face over the word, but promptly shakes it off. "They've already killed one poor fella, and made off wit' some of his kin. Which, I ain't 'xactly the brightest in the tool kit, but I doubt their hold'n 'em up in town. Not with a uh... well, kid called it a dungeon. 'nd maybe it is? I'nno. Point is, we beat the butts of those here, 'nd they're liable to pull the hostage card accord'n to Mama."

Marcon pauses for a moment, brows furrowing in deep thought, before gasping lightly and adding, "B-by wipe'm out, I meant knock'n and jail'em, if at all possible. 'nd since they got captives, it means hit'n 'em where they sleep, not where they play. Which is prolly the aforementioned dungeon." He said, visibly sweating now from all the mental gymnastics. ".... Also, see'n as some of us can't see int he dark anyhow, prolly best we don't try nuthin' tonight anyhow." The young man sighs at that point and leans back in his chair. "Now as far as this whole room'n business go. Way I figa, is we could see 'bout double'n up at the very least. Might cost extra, and somebody's bound to be sleep'n on the floor. But, at least they ain't liable to get rolled in the night should those punks come snoop'n 'bout fer us, ya dig?" The last part he says while taking his cut. But without a word, any coin accidentally added from the Barthen job he leaves behind without a word. 

Rigel leans back and crosses his arms. His right index finger taps his left shoulder as he considers the situation. Suddenly he leans back in as a look of inspiration spreads across his face. He pulls the pouch of coins from its hiding place. As he sets out stacks of coins he lays forth his idea.

"I may have an idea that serves all our purposes. I agree we should take the fight to them. I also agree that if they have hostages a direct assault could pose a threat to the innocent. So hear me out. Let's use our little circus charade to our advantage. Barthen mentioned that these rogues have their fingers in everybody's pies so I suggest we give them a target. If we trick them into coming to us then the hostages should be safe. If we obtain a couple of these ruffians, a hostage exchange could present itself and we could extort some information as well. We should put on a show tomorrow afternoon. That will give us time to spread the word, gather more information and time to supply. This also gives us time to validate Marcon's information. When theses Redbrands come to collect their tribute we spring the trap. We could maybe even sweeten the bait by spreading around a bit of this gold tonight. Possibly make it seem as though I'm the quarter master for this little troup. That way they come for me and not everybody else. Van, you take care of the " circus, Marcon and I will handle security. "

With that Rigel leans back and proudly exclaims "There ya go lads!! A good days pay for a good days work. Now don't you all go spending it all at once."

He pushes a stack of coins towards Marcon. "You deserve these. You fought, bled, and almost died like the rest of us. You earned it. As for lodging, Van you should take a room if you like. I, and I would suggest the rest of our crew,  find a nice stable to rest in. Thus avoiding issues should the holes show up early. Any objections or additions?"

• ( Occ: if no objections, Rigel will call the bartender over to discuss the lodging possibilities.)

"Well, I certainly don't mind spending the night in here, but what about everyone else?"

Ronk nods vigorously. "I'm okay sleeping here. Beds might be small, but that's fine."

 There are few moments as Rigel speaks that Marcon alternates from blanket confusion to deep concern. The latter of which wins out and only grows following a seeming final proclamation. Just as he gives the impression of meaning to interject, he loses steam mid-opening his mouth from having more coin shoved in his direction. "I-I... Look, I 'preciate the sentiment, Mr. Rigel. I do! Honest! But, aside from the coin Sir Sildar already gave, I wouldn't feel too comfortable taking any from the rest of ya'lls previous job. Heck, I didn't even fully realize ya'll were on the job fer a good while there." He admits, rubbing the back of his neck.

"'sides, that's... I wouldn't even know what to do with so much gold. So-..." He pauses, furrowing his brow and making a face as if chewing something unpleasant. "On second thought, I think I've figured it out... not that I don't still feel bad, but..." He trails off there, scooping up the rest of the coin. As he did so however, he goes on to say, "Also! Again, not the brightest candle in the cupboard here, but that whole circus charade seem a bit... I'nno -- sketchy? Certainly an unnecessary extra step. Now, if'n they come to us fer bein' newcomers -- which less face it, they probably are while we're out shop'n anyhow -- then -- THEN maybe we take'm aside, 'nd axe'm a few questions. But, l-let's not go outta our way to stir up wat sounds like a bigger fuss than it need be.... Please?" He gives everyone at the table at least plaintive looks.

When Marcon finishes Rigel pats the air in front of him and proceeds to attempt to alleviate any misgivings.

" Look I know it sounds risky but the chance that they confront us while every one is doing their thing is small. We don't want to go to them and tip off the people above them that we're coming for them. It looks a lot less suspicious if it appears a couple of them just failed at a shakedown attempt. Those few that do approach us will most likely do it while were alone. Besides if we "find" them and don't erradicate them then they will know the towns people gave them up and turn their vengence on more innocents. This way if we fail it won't make things better but it won't make them worse. We have to bait the trap to get them to reveal themselves. If you wanna catch a bigger fish you need to use bigger bait. A few random strangers doesn't say "Payday" but a traveling troup means ticket sales and the promise of a bigger take. But lets take the night and sleep on it. We can vote on a plan of action in the morning."

Garet and his goblin "droids" would like to take a short walk to check "up the road to the east"

"Ronk, darling..." Vanzaren sighs. "I know you mean well, but, and I mean this in the nicest terms possible, I'm not entirely sure if the people of this town are going to approve of a Bugbear staying in their inn. You see, the people of this town... don't really like... goblinoids. And you are very... goblinoidish. We can certainly ask, but whether or not they are going to agree is up in the air..."

He turns to Marcon and Rigel, "Don't you worry about a thing Marcon. You haven't even said anything yet to the people of this town and half the women are swooning over you. You keep up with the strong and silent type and let Rigel and I figure out the rest of this plan. We're going to have to fill Garet in on the whole thing though, any idea of where he went?"

Marcon still looked unconvinced about the plan, but nodded his accent to Rigel with a defeated sigh. But after Vanzaren's follow up, his crosses his arms and frowns at the wizard warrior. "First of all, I 'preciate you try'na to cheer me up, I think? But nothin' ya said just now make'n feel any better bout this idea!" He exclaims. "Unless there's, like, women among the ruffians, and... and I don't know how to finish that sentence, so I'm gonna stop there. We can discuss more come morn'n. As fer Garet, he-..." A still blushing Marcon looks around the tavern. "Huh... Must be still outside practicing an act with the goblins... Eh, One of ya'll should probably go get'em. I'm gonna talk tavern owner. See what the room situation is like." With that, unless there's any last minute thing from the others, he heads to the bar to ask around for the owner.