“Another ale, mayhap,” called one of the regulars (regs) as he slurped off the remainders of his ale and slid the tankard down the way for one of the Ragged Maiden’s serving girls, Moollarlary or Gremmbderline — couldn’t tell from this distance — to pick up.

“Comin’ right up, Jumi,” answered Roggorormmin as he filled another and slammed it on down. Busy afternoon but nothing too mad in particular. Rogorormmmin was filling in today for innkeep as Blom had taken sick. Bad hip, he said, coupled with yesterday’s rain had made his disposition a mite unfavorable. Blom bein’ a stalwart sorta fella as it already went, he kept best to himself on days when he was rather in excess of his surly attitudes.

“8.88 dracoins, if it please ya to hand em over,” Roggogorimm said.

“Eh??”

“I said 8.88 dracoins if —“

“I heard what spilled outta the hole in yer face, laddie,” Jumi interrupted with the force of a crazed Burgatterblax. “Last I checked refills costed nothin’ for me. Me! Jumi hisself!” The talk in the common room died down as everyone perceived a ruckus about to blast forth. No Blom workin’ today to keep such things from transpirin’ and the louder patrons liked to take advantage of the looser disciplines.

“Now I ain’t Blom and I don’t aim to claim I do things his way,” Rogogrmemirm replied evenly, “but on account of our fine innkeep out with the shakes and Glen missin’ since the past Catcher’s Moon, I been put in charge of what I seem to think is the same ol’ Ragged Maiden. Now we gon’ have to settle this with our wallets or with our fists, master Rubigen?”

“JUMI RUBIGEN!!!” A ridiculously angry voice propelled itself from the front door of the inn and went straight to the hearts of all men. One man in particular, Jumi Rubigen, shrunk into himself. “KNEW I’D FIND YOU HERE SUCKIN’ DOWN YER HOURS!!”

A tall, country-lookin’ sorta lass marched across the common room (stopping the live music from the folk-band in the corner… more on the folk-band later maybe when they play a part in this tale).

“Aww go easy on ‘im, Moni,” a fella beseeched from behind the safety of his own tankard. “All of us a little stretched in these times, is all.”

“Let’s go, Jumi Rubigen.” She ignored the anonymous man and snatched up the hapless Jumi by the ears.

Without a word, Jumi and Moni left the Ragged Maiden.

“Contentious sorta marriage they got there,” remarked Nud the Bud. Everyone liked Nud. He was everyone’s bud. Played it safe and only spoke aloud the thoughts everyone else was having.

“Hey so they do,” answered Jee Banferd. “But we all got our contentions these days, Nud. Or need I remind you of the situation Glen found hisself in what caused his disappearance?”

“Now that ain’t nothin’ but a rumor and a rumor is all it is!!” replied Nud a trifle more forceful than mayhap he intended. Nobody liked to talk about Glen. Rather, nobody liked to think about what Glen’s disappearance suggested. “Wars never came to Gilba Gilba and wars never will!”

“All right, settle yer fires, Nud ol’ Bud,” soothed Jee. He tossed a pack of dracoins over the counter to Rogrogormim. “Lemme pick up yer next ale and we’ll head on down to Valma’s Way. Rain’s turned her lake into a beauty, what with the Mountains behind it all quiet-like for once.”