Mergoux stared at the giant of a man for a long moment, an almost incredulous expression written on what parts of her face were visible. This man's accent was so thick she could barely understand a word her said, but she understood enough to know he seemed to be talking himself up a bit. She didn't not buy into it, obviously he was strong with size like his, but to her it seemed that speed would generally be the greater asset when dealing with the Dead below. Certainly that was what had cost her the knockdown, was being nearly knee-deep in shit-water.
That brought her mind back to where she was headed, and with a nod she looked at the three companions she'd done battle with. "I'm staying at The Sozzled Parrot. I'm going to get this shit off me right now, but I'll be there if you need my help." she declared. "I didn't come here for this, but this is too big for me to ignore. If I can help Lord Barret, then let me know." she finished, before marching past the giant and through the church, ending up outside once more.
As she crossed the street she was given a wide berth by all those around her, even pressed as the throng was, the smell of the sewers was enough to clear the space in front of her. Striding into the Inn, she walked up to the barkeep and rummaged for coins, slamming them down on the bar where they left a damp brown ring when the barman gingerly picked them up. "Bath's that way..." he mumbled through a clenched nose, pointing down a hallway to the left of the staircase. It was obvious what she wanted, and even more so what she desperately needed "I take it you don't wish to be disturb-" he stopped at the nod from Mergoux, who swiftly turned and squelched her way into the bath chambers.
The process of getting clean was a long and grueling one, taking 3 tubs of water to get the stench off her, and another two for her gear, as best could be. Thankfully she'd managed to get the smell from the leather and metal of her equipment, but her clothes lay in a pile on the floor, waiting to be burned. There was no saving them, it wasn't worth it.
Finally, several hours later, she finished braiding her hair like she preferred it, enough to keep off her face but still hanging loose around her shoulders, she stepped from the bathing-room back into the bar. She wore a new set of clothes, and her gear was nowhere to be seen, the only thing slung over her shoulders being her large leather backpack. On her head she wore her helmet as always, which looked a little out of place considering her current lack of armor. Her twin knuckle-daggers rested on her hips as usual, but again the massive sword had also seemingly vanished.
She approached the bar and tossed another coin to the barkeep. "Hot meal and ale." she said shortly, but not impolitely. She figured it wasn't most inn's that had a bath, and she appreciated the privacy even more. Settling down into the evening, she tucked into her warm stew. It wasn't good, but she'd had worse. The ale was good at least.