At the eerie sound of the taunts from outside, my ears perk up, and I place my hand on my stiletto and look to the door. A man with a Crakehall banner peaks his head outside, and falls backwards, bleeding onto the wooden floor. I slowly draw my weapon, and place it on my lap under the table, and raise my drink to my lips without taking a sip, wanting to keep my wits about me, and wait for ensuring commotion. I hear the low drum of horse hooves outside the window, and assume we are surrounded. I don’t know this Remus fellow, so why should I run? I’m of no use to our captors.

My Jasparian companions scurry upstairs, but not wanting to find myself trapped should matters head to the second floor, I remain at the table near the door. They find nothing useful, and come back to join me at the table. Exasperated, I shout outside and ask if the man they’re looking for has any identifying feature, eager to get on with the evening. They say Remus has blonde hair, blue eyes and perhaps a beard, but no one matches this description. Eager Dolins offers to invite them inside, but they decline, asking that Remus join them out in the night. This perplexes me, and I wonder why they insist on waiting when they could come and do the deed themselves, letting the rest of the inn’s patrons carry on.

In frustration I being searching the rooms myself, but find only a cat downstairs. With the rest of House Jasper in tow, I start searching the rooms upstairs, and it isn’t long until we find a man that matches our captors’ description, blonde haired, blue eyed, and coughing wildly. The Maester convinces the man to let him in, and examines him, but pulls us back into the hall confirming he had the same thought as me-that this is the man they are looking for.