Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24685738-20170605191359/@comment-24685738-20170606192104

The doors of the inn opened, and the tallest man that Fordola had ever seen walked in, shoulders bent and head low so as to not garner attention. Of course, at over seven feet tall, attention was to be expected. Conversation faltered, the bard stopped singing, and someone accidentally dropped a glass, shattering it on the floor.

The Knight turned bright red, obviously embarrassed, and he went and sat down at a table near Fordola.

A middle-aged Nord noblewoman, next to Iden, wrinkled her nose. "You're the Bastard of Battlehorn, aren't you?" She adjusted the tiara in her silver hair, appearing more matronly than intimidating, although one could never tell with Jarls.

It appeared that Iden had sat down next to her.

The crowds were congregating around the Black Horse Inn. Luckily, it was a large hostel and bar, nearly the size of the Tiber Septim Hotel, but it was still struggling to accommodate all the peasants. And, of course, the distracted and drunk noblemen that were also there.