[Ransom]

Barak’s eyebrows shot up. The innkeeper was certainly stronger than she looked. He stored away this information in one of the dark, dusty recesses of his mind as he slammed the door open. This would take quite a bit of effort to smooth over. The rap on the head seemed to have cause a momentary peace in the fight, a peace long enough for the Gondorian to empty a vial of brown liquid down Mara’s throat. She would sleep for a few hours, hopefully long enough to keep her out of trouble. He gently slung her over her shoulder and, ignoring the looks of the other patrons, dragged her to their room. Still, he did pause besides Estelarion long enough to whisper, “My apologies for your friend, master elf. If you’d like, I’ll explain further in the common room after I take care of her.”

***
After pouring another strange vial down Mara’s throat, Barak descended down the stairs and made his way to the counter. It looked like most of the tables and chairs knocked over during the brawl had been righted, and the hobbits were slowly going back to their festivities. His face was that of one mortally embarrassed as he made his way to the bartender, though his emotions were more than a little turbulent. Carefully watching her arms in case of an unexpected attack, he pulled a fairly large pouch out of his cloak and slid them across the counter to the innkeeper.

“My apologies for the altercations earlier, lady. My friend has certain medical…problems this time of year. I should have watched more closely. She will not cause any more problems for you or your staff. There is about three-month’s wages of gold in that bag. If there was any more damage, I would be glad to pay more.”

He paused for a moment before allowing himself to indulge in a sigh. “In truth, my friend is quite sick and quite problematic. Would you happen to know if there is an apothecary in this town?”

[ March 05, 2003: Message edited by: Ransom ]