Geoffrey grinned as more and more people gathered to hear his playing, pretty soon he'd have to set down the Whistle and go back inside to grab his flute. Ending the song with a mirth in his eyes, he could hear the mixed chatter from down below and would have patted himself on the back for the extra business he was bringing in. With his back to the wall, the doorway out to the balcony open he could sometimes make out Zander's loud snoring from the room. It added to the merriment he placed into the song.

Getting ready to head back inside for his flute to add more notes than with the thistle, he stared down at the Dimuran woman making her way towards the front of the group of children and adults alike. His grin stayed in place, he had met a few of her kind before. They were given great respect by his mother, whom always treated them with the courtesy of their people.

Upon hearing Zander's name, he flinched slightly. If these had been the people the guard had sent to collect Zander he wouldn't back down, but a nagging at the back of his mind told him they were not his enemy. [u]HE couldn't place her face though, probably in need of healing or something and hearing from the townsfolk of a Muran who charged next to nothing for his services.[/u]

Opening his mouth to call down, he closed it with a clack. Deciding instead to motion for her to enter the Pubs entrance with a gesture he turned on his heel and headed back inside. Stopping in the doorway, he stared at Zander who still lay asleep and dead to the world around him. Calling over his shoulder to the audience who groaned at his retreating back, "Now now, you can't keep a respectable Dimuran waiting. It's wrong. Give me a few minutes, and I'll bring out the flute." Sighing he went over to tap the boy on the shoulder to awaken him.

"..Mmmm... get back in bed...." was Zander's reply as he rolled over and groaned softly at the motion. Sitting up slowly and letting out a pained hiss, he lifted his hand to his chest and felt the bandages. "I see, so it wasn't a dream then..." Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he looked at Geoffrey expectantly.

"Some Dimuran is out there askin' after ya," Geoffrey grinned. "Should I bring her up? Or turn her away? She don't look like she need much healin' done to her." Zander shook his head and laid back down. He didn't answer either question, causing some of Geoffrey's good mood to slip away. He hated when the older was in one of his "Holier than Thou" moods. It made him want to give him a swift kick in the backend to straighten up. "I'll bring her up then. Plus, knowing Mother she'll offer the woman a room on the cheaper side. Don' know why she likes them lot."

He ignored Zander's muttering with a put upon sigh and headed towards the door.

Olga looked out to see why the sudden melody had stopped, and why the crowd was dispersing. It was still early for her child to end his song unless Zander had pulled him away. She'd have to remind them of their deal for him staying for a few more days. Coughing harshly, she headed for the door to offer the adults small specials on drinks. She spotted Nymira quickly enough in a see of Murans. 

"A Dimuran," Olga called out and bowed to the girl. She had the grace of someone of standing, possibly the daughter of a great warrior by the way her eyes cast left and right keeping a watch for danger. "Come, sit and have a meal. You look dead on your feet." Her eyes were gentle but her request firm. Her gaze locked with a Muran's on horseback and the cart behind them. "Allow your friends a small rest as well. My boy will be down swiftly. We don't keep our customer's waiting for anything." She held the door open for a few guests and coughed again.


Geoffrey headed towards the back and nodded to Bev to lead the Dimuran his way. The back room would allow for privacy, and was always filled with the scents of the kitchen. Keep the customer fed and happy was his mother's way of thinking. He agreed with it fully. The group behind her, that seemed to watch Nymira intently looked just as tired as Nymira.

Sitting cups down at the table, he left a jug of chilled apple juice and a smaller flagon of mead just in case. Straighting his shirt and pants, he waited for this woman who knew Zander was staying here. Speaking of the devil, Zander hadn't moved form his bed. He stared at the tainted Seal Paper with a look of utter loathing. This wasn't one of his. So whom had his parents taught the script too now?