"No no, you listen! We're tired of your 'good news' Gnokl! You peddle trash!"
The voices, which weren't trying to be quiet by any measure, were from a couple tables over, nearer the front door. A pack of five Goblins sat among the remnants of a huge feast, each one garbed in flowing robes and large sashes. Felix even spotted a curled slipper on a tiny Goblin foot. They had sharp features with prominent noses and lank hair that ranged from green to darkest black, and their heads were quite large compared to their slender bodies. Two of the five were arguing.
"I am offended! See, brothers and sisters! Hartl impugnes my honor! I'm impugned!" The Goblin named Gnokl screeched dramatically and thrust his hands at the others. "I only bring the choicest of news! From the best of sources!"
"Fine, fine. Stop yelling, Gnokl." A slightly thicker-set Goblin growled from the other end of the table. "Speak your piece."
Felix watched as Gnokl shot a victorious look at the one he'd called Hartl, who wrinkled her nose. "Thank you, Eukr. I heard that the Festival of Spheres is going to be held as normal! No changes!"
"What of the monsters?" Asked Lotr, a gap-toothed Goblin with a smattering of dark freckles on her pale green face. "The fog is gone and the monsters are worse than ever. Not to mention the murders."
"Murders? Just some nut about town. And what are monsters compared to the might of the Heirophant's own Inquisition? With the redcloaks defending the city, who would dare attack? Who could even succeed?" Gnokl dismissed Lotr's fears with a laugh. "Our time to profit is here, my family!"
"What profit is there in a Festival where none can attend?" Hartl sneered. "The Inquisition have the city locked down. No new arrivals! Who will buy?"
Gnokl's reply was drowned out by a sudden cheering from nearby, and Felix flinched, nearly tipping his ale over in surprise. A group of young people had wandered into the inn at some point and had sat down at a table next to him. They were cheering as one of their own tried and failed to chug down a extra large tankard of ale. Amidst the insults and jeers, Felix lost the thread of the Goblins' conversation. Now they were speaking about shipments or something, which was far less interesting.
"Hey! You here to join the Guild, too?" One of the group caught Felix's attention, looking at him with a smile. Deema Renn, according to his Voracious Eye, a Human with brown skin and light, amber colored eyes. She was wearing a suit of leather armor that looked barely broken in, and rested her hand casually on the sword at her waist. A staff of some sort hung over her left shoulder. She was maybe seventeen or eighteen, same as the rest and at a glance Felix noted that none of them were over level ten.
"Maybe. Haven't decided yet," Felix smiled at Deema and nodded at the others.
"Haven't decided? Why come here and not know?" A big boisterous teen with a wispy neckbeard and thick arms tilted toward them on his stool. He was also wearing armor, though it had elements of chain mail to it, including big old pauldrons on his shoulders. "Haarwatch doesn't have room for people not willing to help."
"Kelvin! Don't be an ass." Deema frowned at her friend before smiling back at Felix. "Sorry about him. He doesn't get out of his cage much."
"Hey!"
"Haha!" Another of their group crowed, his narrow face all sharp angles. "He's a beast all right! Can't take him anywhere!"
"Nice to meet you," Felix smiled politely and nodded at them and Deema before turning to his drink and pointedly staring into the distance. He hoped they would get the hint and leave him alone...but then someone pulled a stool out at his table and sat down.
Jesus. "Listen, I don't mean to be rude but--" He looked up and into the eyes of the Half-Elf proprietor herself. "Oh, sorry. I thought you were--"
"Some villagers too excited for their own good?" The woman grinned and flashed a glance at the group, which had somehow gotten embroiled in a drinking game with several elderly Dwarves. Felix even spotted Wulfand among them, miserable as ever. "It happens. Kids come into town looking to join the Guild. Test themselves against the Foglands. Then they cause trouble for the locals or themselves and everyone's the worse for it. Best if they're...managed, a bit."
Felix smiled. "Better managed by you than someone less reputable."
She smiled right back, eyes crinkling at the corners. "I think I like you, lad. And not just because you pay in gold."
Felix's smile soured just slightly, though he fought to keep it steady. "Glad to hear it. I wanted to ask you a few questions actually."
"Figured as much. Introductions first, yeah?" She held out a dainty hand. "I'm Jacinda Tellis, and this is my place: The Drum and Tankard, though everyone calls it the Drum Tank. Pleased to meet ya."
Felix gripped her hand firmly. "I'm Felix. Just wandering through."
"Well Felix the Wanderer, what can I help ya with?" She smiled brightly and the flash of silver at her ears and neck caught the sunlight. Felix finished the last of his ale and smiled back.
"What do you know about pants?"