"Respect what you do not know, for not knowing is a mighty thing." -Morudhian Folk Saying The pale flames at the fireplace dance as fading white ghosts, their light and heat barely needed or noticeable in this temperate summer evening. The atmosphere is dry and empty, as there are very few patrons at the inn; however, their chatter is enough to give the place the feel of a crowded hall. These days, it seems everyone is talking about some thing or another in Meadowvale... A blond-haired, clean-shaven man affably swaps good-natured jokes, tales and gossip with a few other patrons, very clear in being the town's minstrel. The owner of the inn, a middle-aged woman who has retained her great looks, walks around to dispense drinks, laughing at the jokes and adding her voice to a couple of song choruses here and there. Outside, an airship packs up, getting ready to leave. Their passengers now well-off, they wave farewell - and good luck. They, for one, will not stick around here any longer than usual. Night or no, the great House Lyrandar airship begins to rise, the ring of fire that was the bound elemental flaring up - the half-elven crew quickly leaving the area, out of Moru Country as fast as possible. As for our heroes, well... let's let them show themselves - how long they have been here, what they have been doing, and how they got here. Did you come on the now-leaving airship? Did they come by another route - already here, in the tavern where our story will begin? Have they been here forever? Ramona turns for a moment, looking back at the airship which brought her here. It would have been her last chance to turn back, but... she simply could not. Even if she could not help cure the land of the strange curse that has made the very dirt below her bare feet a lifeless gray color, she could at least try to apply it to her arcane knowledge. Hefting her heavy backpack, she at least was comfortable in the knowledge that her traditional clothes were in-place in this warm climate. She was comfortable enough to wear what she did, eve if it got her no end of odd looks. Might have been her race, though. Her tail waves like a pendulum back and forth as she moves forward, whiskers and ears twitching as she follows the sound and lights of the inn. Wouldn't be a bad first place to stop, she'll need a room. Struggling with her pack a bit, she balances it on a shoulder and pushes open the door, poking her head in for a moment. She might have been the only litorian in the room, but no one treated her as such. Not as much as a funny glance in her direction. With a smile, the tan-furred being moves over, sitting next to the fire with a happy smile. "Anythin' I can git you, sugah?" The owner of the bar speaks to Ramona, observing her with an eyebrow raised. "...An' mebbe someone tah be lookin' at that curse yer undah. Or didja want tah look that way?" It was more polite and kind than Ramona was used to, and she shakes her head, brushing the hair from her eyes, which were painted to look like the markings on a sphinx. "I vill 'ave a drink, please. A seemple ale." Taking out the money, she pays the owner, taking a bit drink before shaking her head, "I vas born like dis. Dah's human. Mum's a sphnix." She lied about that - her race was little known in the first place, and she felt this lie made her more interesting... as well as believable, considering her appearance. "No foolin'? Huh. Well, guess there ain' no better place for you than Meadowvale, then. You jus' go'wan an tell me what you need, ai'ght?" Ramona nods, "Vell.. I could oo'ze a room." She nods, smiling her kitty-cat, fanged smile. "I plan on saying 'ere for a vhile, for my ree-surch..." She pats her heavy backpack. "I've got a thee-sis to write." "Ahhh, you're one o' dem wizards. Must be from Aundair, I'kin tell by yer accent. I'll getcha a room set up for you no prob'bem. S'only three coppah a night, extra fer the food. Not bad, 'siderin' we're the only inn in town." The minstrel behind her grins, "It's highway robbery and you know it, Leah!" He was met with a playful 'thwack' in the back of the head, setting the tavernfolk to laughter. Ramona herself laughed, nodding, "I think it is a fair deal. Glad-lee." Counting out the money, he handed it to the owner - Leah, before returning back to listening to the bard's tales, enjoying her ale and considering what the country's "norms" are.