The two men argued audibly and drew the attention of not just the orc, but almost everyone else in the room that wasn't too drunk to open their eyes. the satchel they passed between them looked heavy and full, but its contents were a mystery. When the bigger of them suddenly burst out in dwarfish his companion did the same, unloading a string of sharp noises and heavy consonants in the direction of his comrade. The big guy turned toward the door to leave, pressed the handle down and without further ceremony walked straight into the solid wood of the barrier. Locked. "Key, ye daft bastard!" He yelled at his friend, who enraged threw the satchel out into the air. 
"I ain't got no key, ya baboon, ye got i' yerself!" 
The satchel soared through the air with all the grace of an eagle, paralysed from the neck down and n serious need of a shit. By some miraculous coincidence it flew straight toward the orc and with the amazing reflexes of someone who hadn't been dead for hundreds of years he opened his hands and caught it almost silently.
Almost. 
The faint "tink" of one coin hitting another escaped. 
All eyes were on the satchel.

Baxxink decided to take the chance, he should be swift enough. The pen was pocketed almost before his feet hit the floor, the key came second. He looked at the parchment for a second but left it. Too big, only worth something in good condition and even then only to the right kind of buyer who'd love to get away cheaply. Something heavy slammed against the door and Baxxink instantly abandoned any thought of searching the room further. He swung out of the room like a piss-stained swan and crouched down on the other side. He hadn't gotten any money, which was what he'd been after, he'd have to trade the pen somewhere... The key. Maybe there were some money stored in the coach. 

[@Fetzen]
Baxxink made his way down the tree swiftly, down was the easy part after all. He didn't enjoy rubbing himself against the piss-coloured bark of it, but figured that he could order up a bath and wash his clothes at the same time if he only found some money. He rounded the inn and came up the the spot where coaches were held. There were a lot of them, various sizes and shapes for various amounts of wealthy occupants. Baxxink looked at the key again, but there was no way of determining which coach it belonged to. HE'd have to try them all one by one and hope that the coachmen didn't find him suspicious.