As the chair creaked louder and louder the sheer volume of it eventually not only rivalled, but dwarfed that of the lonely harp player. Enraged, the musician put his instrument down and called out across the tavern.
"Hey! Lardarse! Go easy on the scenery, willya? I'm trying to create art over here!"

The operation had gone smooth until that time. The innkeeper hadn't seen through Baxxink's disguise and his companions had settled in nicely, not even the demon had had much trouble getting in, although Baxxink reckoned that it had something to do with his size. Looking around the big room, he took stock of the other guests. The usual drunkards that frequents taverns, a merchant or two, but not of the wealthy kind. If he was going to pay for the drink he needed money. Fast. 
The barmaid was a possible solution, she should know where some money were kept, but he'd have to subdue her for it, and he'd rather not. 

[@Fetzen] He got up from the table he shared with his two comrades, and excused himself as he had some call of nature to attend to. He left the big room by the back door and was greeted by a lonely tree that smelled a lot more like urine than pine. He turned and looked up at the tavern. The rooms that guests could stay in were usually on the upper floor, he counted four windows up there. 
His plan was simple, climb the piss-tree, jump to the roof, find a window if an occupied room and sneak in, there should be something of value.