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"Bebberyn, I wish for you to meet this man, a traveller by the name of Awyrgan."
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The man Bebberyn noticed the weathered man in the corner for the first time. Awyrgan touched his forehead in greeting towards the surprised looking man.
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"Perhaps we have met before?"
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"Perhaps. A traveller's road is long and faces are many," he responded apollogetically.
He knows my face but not my name. I have ridden next to him before. No matter; I am Awyrgan to all who know me now. The man from the South conversed for some time with Umbria and then bowed and left the Inn. Umbria remained standing by the window in silence.
A bringer of ill news no doubt. Awyrgan suddenly remembered he had not slept in several days and drawing his cloak about him fell into a light sleep; resting but still taking in the surroundings and events going on around him. He never truely slept, but it kept him alive.