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	Cavendish listened with a malcontented sneer on his face for the vast majority of the explanations given to him by the party. Details which he appeared to find particularly amusing were met with a glance back to his assembled men. The more professional looking of the bunch seemed to share the Constable's amusement, with smiles being seen from beneath hands raised to shield their eyes from the sun. The other men, those in more common clothing with likely lent weaponry, listed uneasily from side to side, occasionally murmuring among themselves. A few of these looked expectantly to the Constable, as if waiting for something from the man. 

	Between moments of having his sport, Cavendish was looking over the new arrivals with an eye for detail. He didn't seem to observe much from the Bard, but kept his look of self-assurance as his observations of the others continued. A ruse, coincidence, the truth, or just a ploy to maintain control of the situation; this was difficult to say. The exception to this was a flash of confusion as the Tiefling started off the conversation with a barrage of reports that probably needed an interpreter, were one not present. In any case, as soon as those present said their peace to him, he unshouldered his great and shiny warhammer and slid it into a loop on his belt, then waved his men away from more serious posturing. Speaking to them, he said, [color=darkgray][b]"Well boys, it looks like these [i]heroes[/i] my dear cousin sent handled it. Back to business. You men,"[/b][/color] he motioned abstractly at the militiamen gathered, [color=darkgray][b]"...won't be needed after all. Go on about your day. You are all dismissed, and thank you so much for [i]volunteering[/i] this morning."[/b][/color] He gave them a lingering look, and finished up with, [color=darkgray][b]"Leave your things with the guards."[/b][/color]

	Back to the party, Cavendish addressed some of their statements. [color=darkgray][b]"Coffin Goblin..."[/b][/color] he mused, giving a little chuckle. He didn't seem to take Kosara seriously. To Hugh, he regarded the use of semi-formality with the Sheriff, responding, [color=darkgray][b]"I'm sure that [i]Mr. Arbalest[/i] would love to hear you call him that. He's the type. Just remember, you all got hired to hunt [i]greenskins[/i]. So long as you're in my town, keep to your own and leave the other [i]vermin[/i] to me and my boys. I hope we understand each other."[/b][/color] And finally to Kathryn, [color=darkgray][b]"Casualty? Oh. That's a recovered body. The L'Rose family,"[/b][/color] he jerked his thumb in the direction of Cecily, Lizbeth, and now Victoria (who was still comforting the child), [color=darkgray][b]"asked for help. Seeing as you recovered it, this isn't the constabulary's problem anymore. That's between you and them."[/b][/color]

	The Constable turned around to walk back the way he came, speaking one last sage piece of advice. [color=darkgray][b]"Keep your nose out of things that don't concern you here. You start getting notions, you bring it to [i]me[/i]."[/b][/color] There was a lack of desire to speak further evident in his manner, and he simply walked off, back up the road toward the township's center. The last few members of the militia were handing over spears to the three better equipped soldierly types and filtering away, apparently glad to do so. 

	[center]*******[/center]

	The group hadn't made it quite fully into the township just yet, but even from this vantage some things could be observed. Directly to the west of the main gate and taking up space as far as vision allowed, given the circumstances, was a vast array of canvas and other cloth structures like large tents and pavilions, around which many working-class types could be seen. It was orderly and clean, as much as it might be, and seemed to have a number of hastily assembled stalls wherein farmers sold goods, some directly out of the back of wagons. It had the feel of a huge Farmers' Market, where the goods of the region could be acquired by all. Other than this, one could occasionally hear the beating of a smithy hammer or telltale sounds of wood being rasped down or lathed. Most of the people coming out of or going into this section resemble farmers or laborers or some kind. To the east, more permanent structures were raised, with shingles and signs indicating various legitimate businesses, many of which catered to travelers. And straight ahead, even through the din of foot traffic and occasional horses, one could see great trees toward the center of town. The main road led right into them, like a park in the town center. Throughout all of this, the decorations for the upcoming Harvestide festival could be seen in the forms of autumnal themes and stacking of colored gourds. 

	Cecily began to approach the group, followed by Victoria had a supportive hand on Lizbeth's shoulder. The two of them seemed to be getting over an emotional moment. [color=darkgray][i]"Your friend told me... what happened. I'm just sick over all of this. Um... so I want to repay you for everything you have done, but I didn't bring anything of worth with me. The wine is already paid for and just needs to be delivered, so... Look, I'm sorry, but if you can help me just a little bit more, I'll help you however I can while you're in town. I know an Innkeeper, of sorts, but I don't know if it's a place up to your standards. Hmm... Oh, my family does own a hayloft in town, if you need... No, that's silly. Okay, maybe after your contract is done, I can invite all of you back to the Rose River Vineyard for a while as my guests? Would... would that be okay?"[/i][/color]

	[color=darkgray]"Please?"[/color] finally piped up Lizbeth, wiping her dampened face with her sleeve. She pointed toward the wagons while blinking red-rimmed eyes, adding, [color=darkgray]"That's my Grandpa."[/color]