Eat up!

Is the food the greatest thing you've ever tasted? Not literally speaking. Though with the company you keep, it might as well always be. You carve into your meals, and conversation slows nearly to a halt for a time as people fill their bellies. It's much needed. The dwarf doesn't return, which isn't surprising, though the other two are still present, just at another table across the room.

Partly into your meal, the squeakin makes his way over. Two straps keep his harp case bound to his back, despite it being larger than his body. When he speaks, his voice is so quiet you barely even notice somebody is there at first, especially given how noisy your party can be. "Uhm. Excuse me," he says.

You look down. "Oh. Hey there. Sad to see there's no more music tonight, but you do deserve a rest after all that."

"I'm used to bullies," he says. "It's all right. But I wanted to thank you. I wouldn't have died or anything like that I'm sure, but that would have really hurt."

"Thankfully in the end, it looks like he tipped you."

The mouse smiles. "Seems that way."

Sitting closest, Eva stands with a chicken drumstick in her clutches. She grins wide--a little tipsy--and curtsies with one hand. "Don't let the haters get to you."

He stares upward. Being diminutive in size grants a different perspective. And while Eva is short in her own right, so is her skirt, and given her lack of a certain garment beneath, the squeakin is being given quite the dynamic shot. He swallows nervously and then attempts to speak quietly so others don't hear. "Ma'am. You seem to be uhm... Well, I can see your--Sorry. I don't want to embarrass you."

"My--?" Eva looks down, and then quickly bring a hand between her legs. "R-Right! Oh gods. Sorry about that! Wait, should I be apologizing, or should I be angrily telling you to look away? I don't know!"

"Well if it helps, I'm not really interested... I hope I didn't make things awkward."

She sits down, flustered, "N-Nope. It's fine."

A woman passes through the doorway. Plenty already have, but your attention is caught. She's garbed the same as before, so she likely either just finished her duties, or she's on break, but entering Journey's End is the elven ranger Eaera Fal'anis. She notices you as quickly as you did her.

"I had a feeling you would be here," she calls out with a wave of her hand.

You nod your head. "Ms. Fal'anis. Any word from the adventurers?"

"Indeed. They have arrived in Tanver's Crossing and are being checked for any critical injuries. But regarding your party, I do not believe I ever got your names. So far I know you only as elven cleric, sunheart warrior, catfolk rogue, and then human-with-the-hat, and bunnyfolk who really had to pee. And of course, the leader of the group. Hero King Kyle Warren."

"Did you do your research between then and now, or did you already know this much before?" you ask. "When you simply called me Demon King."

Eva frowns. "Wait. Why am I not bunnyfolk mage?"

"I will not answer, Mr. Warren. Though I admit I do not know a lot more, from what I do know, I am no longer surprised it was you who conquered the dungeon. I do not think you will remain anonymous for long. People talk, especially adventurers. They are already calling you a hero here as well."

Behind her suddenly stands the man in the ponytail, and behind him approaches the woman. He crosses his arms and looks the ranger over a little too thoroughly. "Ms. Fal'anis! Long time no see. Weary from a day of wiping out monsters? Yeah. Me too. I know how that feels."

You catch her eyes roll before she turns to face him. "Oh, it is you. I would not even say I am taking a break, as in a moment, I plan to head back out again. I only came to check in on Mr. Warren and his allies."

His brow lowers. "What? Why? He's just some outsider."

"Oh dear. I will allow the future to answer your question for me. Goodbye for now, Mr. Warren. Enjoy your evening."

As she walks back out through the opened doors without dignifying the man with even another glance, he becomes red in the face. "I try to be nice, and she just storms off. Maybe I should be meaner, huh? Then girls like her would be all over me. But it's too bad I'm not like that."

Eva looks to you with daggers from her eyes. "Kyle," she says. "I'm experiencing physical pain from this."

You nod. "Let's finish up our food, and then we can--"

"Yo! Is that him?!" shouts a voice from the doorway.

"And the others!" another follows up.

Suddenly, four different individuals have approached your table, and you recognize them straight away as some captured in the Prison Princess' lair.

A robed catfolk man slaps his hand meagerly on your table. "Listen! Oh uhm... Oops. Sorry. That was louder than I meant. I was just gonna say... we can't let these guys pay another coin for their food and drink! It would be an insult to our pride."

"That's right!" shouts a chainmail-garbed dwarven woman. Her arm is wrapped in bandages. "You best have room for dessert. Three cheers for the best damned adventurer I've met this side of the Peaks!"

The group of fans may be small, but their voices are loud. They erupt into more than the aforementioned three cheers, and despite the fact that you were just considering the end of the festivities, it seems things have only just begun. Not only do they join your table, but some others from inside the tavern come over curiously, and they're told the tale in various ways of how you managed to clear the dungeon none of the patrons even knew about. Almost none of it is true, as the prisoners would have no idea what you did before or after the one room they saw you fight, but there's no use in trying to convince them they're wrong.

Meanwhile, the amoured man and the leather-clothed elf retreat back in utter defeat.