[b]In the Guild Master's Office...[/b]

Soon everybody but Eomer had filed out of the guild master's office.  The woman behind her grand desk narrowed her eyes at the Badlander's tone.

"[i]Your[/i] pay is in there as well as everybody else's.  You'll be grateful for it or you can find somewhere else to work."

After a moment, when it was only two of them in there, she softened her tone just a bit.

"This isn't the Badlands.  This is one of the oldest and most prestigious adventuring guilds around.  My reputation is not worth losing just to screw over one of my own.  You have two days of walking ahead of you.  Go get rested, sober up and set out tomorrow with a clear head.  Now get out of my office."

Of course, it would be up to each member of the group as to whether or not they wanted to meet with the excitable Caerbean fighter at his watering hole of choice.  To any who did, they would find the Drunken Huntsman in one of the rougher parts of town.  It was the kind of place where the guards only went if they absolutely needed to.  The building itself left something to be desired, although it did have its own charm.  It had been converted from a storehouse after the mainly wooden upper section had burned down.  The remaining brick base had been refurbished and the roof turned into a sort of open deck for people to lounge with a good view of the surrounding area.  Some time later, a sturdy roof had been built over the deck to keep people relatively safe from birds and rain.