As they approached the common room Humphrey could smell the aroma of wood smoke, old grease and spilled ale, but aside from the crackle of a fire, the room seemed fairly quiet. He stopped just short of entering the room and surveyed his surroundings. A number of empty tables and benches filled the room, basically aligned and facing a large fire burning in a fireplace against one wall. Two fairly well dressed men--merchants, most like--sat at one table by a window, speaking quietly over their mugs of ale. In one corner of the large room, another man who looked to be a farmer, appeared to be sleeping off his ale with his head resting on the table in front of him. The only other person in the room was an older fellow with an apron tied over a well-rounded belly, and who standing behind a wooden plank set atop several barrels. He was leaning on the plank bar, staring silently at Humphrey. When the old man caught his eye, he nodded slightly, but made no other show of greeting or welcome.

The knight stepped into the room and motioned for Isabelle to follow him. He then indicated a bench near the fire. "Sit and try to dry off," he told her, quietly. "I shall see to some food and our lodging." Isabelle nodded, took Humphrey's bag and gratefully approached the warm blaze, then sat down and extended her wet boots toward the fire.

Humphrey crossed the room and the two men near the window glanced up at him, but did not seem interested in his presence, as they both returned to their conversation after only a cursory look in his direction. As he approached the older man behind the bar, Humphrey was able to get a better look at him. He had a wide fan of white hair over his large ears and around the back of his head, but the top was bald and shiny. Bushy white eyebrows nearly hid his eyes, but well matched the thick white mustache he sported, and while his belly may have grown big and soft over the years, his shoulders and arms were still thick and muscular. Standing nearly as tall as Humphrey himself, this man's posture and piercing gaze told the dark knight that he was dealing with an ex-soldier.

"Greetings, sir," Humphrey said, as he stepped up to the bar. "Would you be the owner?"

"Aye, me lord," the old man replied, quietly, his gaze never leaving Humphrey's face. "I would be indeed. John Barker, me lord--how may I serve ye?"

"Might you have two rooms for the night?"

"Aye, and sure we do, me lord. Not much travel on a night such as this, ye know," he said, then nodded toward a flight of stairs against one wall. "Top of the stairs to the right, me lord. All the way down to the end of the hall will be yer rooms."

"Fine, Master Barker. I will also require meals for three," Humphrey told him, while reaching for a second pouch, tied into a pocket of his cape.

"Three, me lord?" the old man asked, his bushy eyebrows arching as he looked over to the fire and Isabelle.

"Our servant will be joining us, as soon as he tends to our horses," Humphrey said, then placed three silver crowns on the wooden plank in front of Barker. "This will hopefully cover our room and board, as well as that of our mounts."

"Oh, aye," Barker said, his eyebrows arching once again when he saw the coins. "This be more than enough, to be sure, me lord," he added, and quickly snatched up the coins, before his guest could change his mind.