It was late at night and the Inn was quiet. Will, mostly if you didn't count the drunk snoring. Almost everyone was asleep. Almost. Sir Alban Denton was the only one who was fully awake. Lady Haana was asleep along the coachmen. He was the only one awake since he could it hard to sleep in a different bed in a different country. He had double checked, no, triple checked the room to make sure there wasn't anyone in his room or in Lady Hanna's room. They were going to have a big day tomorrow and the Lady had to look her... best for the King. Looking up at the dark ceiling, Sir Alban got up and moved around his room slowly. Lighting a small flame on the candle in his room, the knight got dressed. He decided the best way for him to sleep was for him to say awake. Plus, he could just sleep in the couch. Walking down the hall, he shook his head. Lady Hanna was the one meeting the King and HE was the nervous one. Maybe it was because while Lady Hanna was a lovely girl, it was up to him to convince the King she was the one he should marry. Good Lord he thought to himself has he rubbed his face.

The Inn may have been quiet but that didn't mean he was the only one up. The Inn keeper was up and washing mugs behind the bar counter. The man glanced up at Sir Alban then went back to cleaning. The knight had doubts about how clean the mugs were at the inn but he wasn't going to say anything. Taking a seat at an empty table, He rubbed his face once more. The Inn keeper looked up once again then walked out from behind the counter with a mug full of ale. He set it in front of Alban and walked away without saying a word. Now, being a curious man he is, the knight leaned towards the mug to take a look at it. Ale... Ale was the stuff that gave men hair on their chests if it was brewed right. Picking up the mug and bring it to his lips, Alban took one sip out of curiosity. After swallowing, he smiled. Good ol' ale... He was worried that the Island of Thiasa had nothing but wine. While the ale reminded him of home, he had to be careful of not drinking too much. The last thing he wanted was to be hung-over in front of the king. Taking another sip, Sir Alban became lost in his thoughts about how he was going to convince the King to marry Lady Hanna. It wasn't until the jingle of the bell above the door knocked him back to reality. Keeping his head low, Alban glanced up to see who had entered the Inn and decided if this person was trouble or not.

It was late, it was dark, and even on the heels of summer he was freezing his balls off. He had been riding lightly as of late, to spare Freedom, who had an iffy hock, but this was ridiculous. Twelve hours riding and no sign of an inn. He was just about to stop in the middle of the road, even though he could see no trees about--not in this flat plain-y region. He had passed so many damned barley fields! And of course that always left a sour taste in his mouth. That stuff didn't grow itself, and it was even, he heard tell, more temperamental than the wheat they cultivated in Scalia. He knew all to well the backbreaking labor of a farming serf.

It was in ill temper, then, that he led Freedom into the barn abutting the inn and handed her over to the sleepy stableboy together with a handful of pennies. This looks like a good-enough establishment, and paying someone off always ensured better care for his treasured mount. The stableboy's effusive thanks were met only with a curt nod; he was tired, and all he wanted was a drink.

He made his way to the tavern, shoving open the door with one shoulder, and was unsurprised to see it mostly empty. There was one man, sitting at a table with a tankard, and Conn almost whistled through his teeth at the sight of him. Damn, and this man was quality! Definitely worth brushing up against. He ran a hand through his messy dark-blond hair, made darker with the dirt of travel, and called out for a cup of mulled wine before he took a seat opposite the gentleman.

"You don't mind, sir?" He glanced up as though too weary to have cared for his manners, though in fact the expression was calculated. "I've been traveling alone all day. I could use the company." Without waiting for an answer, he held out his hand to be shaken up and down, as was the custom of the day in Thiasa. "The name's Brogan Ashby." Of course it wasn't, but it behooved him to leave behind a string of false names.

Sir Alban wanted to go unnoticed if anyone had walked through the door. But that wasn't going to happen. He was a big guy dressed far too nice to just be any normal person. At the angle his head was at, he couldn't a get a very good look at him. It wasn't long before the man had called out for some ale. Being born Curious, Alban looked up at the new comer. He gave the man a blank look before realizing he wanted to sit at the table with him. "Take a seat" wasn't out of the man's mouth before the traveler had taken a seat. The knight looked at the hand then back up at the man. Taking the man’s hand and shaking it, he said “I’m Sir Alban Denton. Pleasure to meet you Brogan Ashby". For a moment, he wasn't sure it was smart for him to say 'Sir' in front of his name. He wasn't embarrassed by it but some people feel a little uncomfortable when he would say 'Sir Alban Denton' rather then 'Alban Denton'. Alban looked at the Innkeeper as he gave the man his ale then went off to wash the mugs. Rubbing a hand over his face, Alban wondered if he would ask Brogan why he was traveling all day. "Master Brogan, may I ask why you were traveling all day?" Sir Alban asked innocently. The knight had a curious look on his face. This Brogan Ashby character was one of the few people of Thiasa he's spoken to.

"What is it you do here on Thasa Master Brogan?" Sir Alban asked since he wanted to know more about this man. Sure, he was small and weary looking but that didn't mean he couldn't be a murder. It just made the knight feel better if he knew more about Brogan. The funny thing was that it never came to the knights’ mind that 'Brogan Ashby' might not be this mans real name. Taking a bigger sip of ale as he waited for the man to respond, Sir Alban took a quick look around. The inn was nice in a rustic kind of way. It reminded him of an inn near his parent’s farm that he and his brother went to. They had their own home but they spied on the people going in and out of the inn. There was always interesting people going in and coming out of the inn. Normally, the people coming out of the inn were rather drunk which made them even more interesting. Another thought hit him and he gave Brogan another curious look. "You didn't by chance walk to this inn, did you Master Brogan?" asked Alban. It was a silly thing to ask since most people, at least, owned one horse but some people didn't. Depending on where the man was going, the knight was sure Lady Hanna wouldn't mind taking a short detour to drop this man off. It also delayed meeting the King for a little longer. May God... Why am I this nervous? he asked himself as he took another drink from his mug. Alban wished he could sleep like Lady Hanna but she was a young girl who got tired out easily. So her falling asleep once her head met the pillow was to be expected.

"Pleasure to meet you, Sir Alban," Conn said, smoothing out his normally rough accent for the gentleman. His eyes flicked over him, calculating the worth of every scrap he had on. It was at least one gold, and that was without the purse. These nobility! Raised in such luxury they didn't even notice it surrounded them, like an airy cushion keeping them up from the floor!

At the man's question, he scrambled for an occupation that would suit, and settled quickly on one he often used when speaking to gentry. A hired guardsman was an occupation they could understand. After all, someone needed to protect the traveling quality against marauding bandits such as--well, such as himself.

"I'm a hired guardsman and no more, I'm afraid," he said with a little chuckle. He paused to accept his cup of mulled wine from the barmaid. He usually would have winked at her or given her a pinch, but not in front of his current companion. Instead he wrapped his hands around his mug and huddled in on himself for warmth in the brisk chill that still permeated after his long ride. "At the moment I'm between jobs, but never you fear, I'm no mercenary. Besides, Thiasa's a peaceful country apart from the barbarians. Are you not from around here? Scalian, then." He shook his head. "Ah, it's a pity it is. Much more opportunity here. And yes, I do have a horse, mare called freedom. But I don't make a habit of bringing my horse with me into taverns, Sir Alban, do you?"

He raised one eyebrow at his interlocutor, unable to spare himself the one joke. The man might be a noble but he had to have a sense of humor, aye?

"So if I may, on what business are you here in Thiasa, Sir Alban?"