[center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][center][img]https://i.ibb.co/vXD6Q0t/Update-Text.png[/img][/center][center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][center][img]https://i.ibb.co/VgpLqTS/Bobs-Tavern.jpg[/img][/center][center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center]


	[u]Weather[/u]: Thick and heavy rain dominates the atmosphere outside. The temperature is still about 50[sup]o[/sup]F (10[sup]o[/sup]C), and the damp air is noteworthy.

	[u]Time[/u]: It is still the afternoon. Not much time has passed since the last suspicious event, so here we remain. Again, looking at the levels of light (or lack thereof) is of little help in determining the time of day. Common sense still indicates the early afternoon despite this.  

	[u]Ambience[/u]: The relative quiet inside of the Public House is contrasted by the low, steady roar of heavy precipitation pounding across the roof and streets outside. A bit of projection is still necessary to be heard effectively within the confines of the taproom. The fireplace and various lamps illuminate the surroundings, providing adequate light for all parties despite the closed and shuttered windows and dimness of the open world beyond. A loud, skyward rumble rolled across the clouds above; a piece of ambience fitting the ominous scene inside. 
	
[center][color=darkgray][h2]*****[/h2][/color][/center]
[center][hider=Neil & Bob's Public House][img]https://i.ibb.co/5vK80t3/N-B-ip.jpg[/img][/hider][/center] 	
	Trays were slid upon the party's table, though it was done with an overabundance of care and worried expressions as the discussion turned to the strange. And to the loud. Both Lea and Daisy forewent the more service-oriented formalities of distributing individual dishes to the people, keeping them on the trays and backing away a few steps. The Human and Halfling employees of the Public House shared a glance at one another but said nothing, waiting to see how this new, loud, and question-raising development played out.  

	Robert, meanwhile, looked to be judging his words with as much care as a man petitioning an infernal magistrate. Sure, he gave a quick smile of approval when Kathryn translated the word and even a quiet sigh of relief when Victoria explained it aloud (more or less), but following this he really began to verbally skip about. To begin, when Kosara implied that he might be under the effect of a Geas, the older barkeep looked straight at her and declared stonily, [color=darkgray][b]"I have no idea what you are talking about."[/b][/color] To her idea concerning answering or not answering questions, he continued, [color=darkgray][b]"Do you read? I read. I like books. Sloppy writing bothers me, you understand? Leaving gaps in dialogue that you know tells folk the answer anyway? [i]Just kills me sometimes[/i]. Sloppy."[/b][/color] His words, as he picked them, were precise in a way that frustrated him. The edges of his demeanor frayed with annoyance, and something else - urgency, perhaps?
	
	In contrast, Robert just shot an impatient look at Baronfjørd when his comment about being rude was loosed into the world. 

	But Marita's climb over a mountain of verbiage provoked a different reaction from the barkeep. He gave a startled look at first which faded into caution, his face locked into near total stoicism as not to react overtly. He did pull a chair from a nearby table and slide it a little nearer to the party's table, which he sprawled into like a man truly wearied. But again, dancing around the meat of the Cleric's monologue, he stated, [color=darkgray][b]"Now that's a silly idea - [i]werewolves[/i] hiding out in a rural hub town. Doesn't make sense. And I'll tell you something about Jacque's werewolf test - if it's even legitimate - that sounds like a willing, physical yes or no question. Lot of folk I know aren't keen on being pigeon-holed that way. They'd have to have it [i]forced on them[/i], rather than submit. Just on principle. Prideful people in Avonshire.[/b]"[/color] He stared at Marita as he spoke. Again, he seemed to be carefully selecting his words. [color=darkgray][b]"I don't speak for our Lea. Daisy, either."[/b][/color] 

	The two women said nothing, but, with fear and worry, gave a nod. Lea reached out her slightly trembling hand to accept the ring as it was offered. They took turns, one after the other, pressing an edge of the ring on the tip of their tongue before offering it back. Nothing seemed to have happened. They both remained quiet, huddled against one another as if bracing for something. 

	Addressing Kathryn, Robert said simply, [color=darkgray][b]"On the subject of silver, I'd talk to a silversmith. That thing I need from Mr. Mallard - I need it before nightfall. My offer's still on the table, literally."[/b][/color] He motioned to the stack of five gold coins, right where he left them previously. [color=darkgray][b]"He's easy to startle lately. And hard to talk to it you already made him nervous. Whoever wants to go, I'll write you a note."[/b][/color]