The Taproot was just like Nymara expected, rustic but serviceable… like all of Relkath’s Foot appeared to be. Since the sun was just beginning to set, the tavern was only sparsely populated with patrons, all of whom met her with inquisitive glances, but held clear distain for Courynn. Settling into a table by the far wall, they waited a considerable time for the half-elven tavern-maid, who’d been loitering by the bar with the patrons there, to saunter over, greeting them irritably with a curt; “What’ll you have?” “Ale, a mead for the lady… and food,” Courynn responded flatly, expecting no better treatment. Outsiders were more common here then the town’s other inn, the Green Man on the northern side of town across the river, but human’s weren’t warmly welcomed in either and he knew if it wasn’t for Nymara he’d be simply snubbed. “There’s hunters’ stew,” the surly half-elf stated impatiently, turning on her heels and strolling away as soon as he nodded affirmatively. “Well you’re popular here,” Nymara teased as she surveyed the room finding the other patrons either completely indifferent or borderline hostile. “I’m human,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I’m not popular anywhere here.” Sitting quietly until the tavern-maid returned with their order to put a pint in front of Courynn, a large metal cup before her, two quite sizable bowls of a thick chunky brick-red gruel opposite each and a plate of fresh baked crusty bread between them, Nymara put on a clearly feigned smile and congenially cooed as she stomped off; “Thank you so very much.” Then, looking to Courynn she inquired; “What exactly is ‘hunters’ stew’?” “Whatever the hunters brought down today,” he chuckled lightly, as he tore off a chuck and bread and held it as a second utensil to his spoon. “Boar, dear, rabbit or fowl… all tossed in a pot with vegetables and spices. It’s probably not up to Sildeyuir standards but it’s hearty and filling.” Sampling the concoction she found he was right. The spicy mixture was rich, filling and surprisingly tasty, especially after days of nothing but elven bread to sustain them, and consumed it with relish, not realizing just how hungry she was. With the sun now set, the tavern began to fill up, and while most of the other patrons cast curious glances her way, they uniformly disregarded him until a familiar face appeared. Talice was met with murmurs of welcome and appreciation as she entered, but they fell silent when she waded her way to their table, sliding into an empty chair at Courynn’s motion of invitation. “It’s not fair how you’ve been treated,” the half-elven druidess recognized thoughtfully. “I’m hailed as a hero… but you’re ignored, when you did as much… if not more… to save those people.” “It’s the doing that maters,” he stated with conviction, but it wasn’t clear who he was trying to convince… her or himself.