[SS] Cold Wool

"Roderick.  Roderick Evans."  He would offer his hand to shake as they ran.  "Hope you can come by our pub again, the service will be much better, I'm sure.  Just don't end up like that drunk lad last night, he really let himself go."  With that, he would wave and take another route, though for a moment, he seemed to almost drop whatever smile he had the moment his face was completely turned...

Certainly the townspeople were seemingly friendly, but of course, the fact that names were known was...peculiar.  And such events did not end any time soon, many of the citizens would wave.  Some said nothing, but some did call out Erin's name specifically.  What was equally peculiar was what happened to Albrekka, as well as the man at the pub.  They were nowhere to be seen on the streets.

"...and so what event are you looking forward to the most here?"  Down one of the streets, one could overhear someone asking another a question.  It seemed to be a reporter, considering his microphone and his apparent lackey carrying a rather heavy camcorder.  "Well, it most certainly has to be the food.  The Hughes sisters, they make an amazing cawl."  The older lady the man was interviewing seemed to be rather talkative.  "You have most certainly have to try it.  And don't let Roderick fool you otherwise, he's a great cook and all but let me tell you, those sisters can put together a mean cawl."

"Well, thank you for your opi-" "And don't get me started on Charles.  Oh, Charles, he thinks he can cook and is probably going to bring that spaghetti his mother makes, but she is going to bring her special recipe anyway so we're going to be SWIMMING in the stuff, let me tell you.  I, on the other hand."  "Yes?"  "Well, I get to eat."  This seemed like the perfect time for everyone to feel the weight of stupidity on their shoulders...  

Regardless, it seemed that she was not the only outsider coming to the town, many reporters or...well, a reporter, anyway, had already come.  It seemed like he wasn't going to be able to get away any time soon, despite his repeated attempts with "Thank you for your time" which fell on deaf ears.

Encountering Roderick was an experience that left Erin unable to react outwardly other than furrowing her brow as she watched the man jog away from her. Roderick's parting words were clearly intended to be amicable and even sympathetic, however, there was a strange tone shift when the drunkard was mentioned. She could not let such a comment go unnoticed and forgotten, and so the cryptic words found their way into her notebook before she continued her increasingly uncomfortable journey.

Seeing someone else bear the townspeople's bizarre collective obsession with visitors from out of town was both a relief and a concern for our young detective. The sight of a person being figuratively surrounded by people and things he was unable to comprehend tugged at her heartstrings with such force that she came to a stop at the mere sight and sound of it.

The crowd wasn't even allowing the man a chance to speak or finish his thoughts. They appeared to be friendly, but their aggression when it came to dealing with this man was unnerving after experiencing all of the other strangeness the village had to offer. Erin watched them carefully and awaited an opportunity which she could utilize to rescue him.

The dialogue between the old lady and the reporter did not last much longer, as...

"Oh, Gertrude, you're telling this boy you aren't bringing anything to the banquet?"  Someone from one of the nearby homes had stepped out and heard what the old lady, apparently named Gertrude, was saying.

"Well, I just can't decide on which dish to bring..."  She would turn to the older gentleman who had called her out.

"You say that every year and you always bring a green bean casserole.  Just bring the green bean casserole!"  The reporter took this moment to quickly thank the woman for her time and stepped away.

"Look here Ben, maybe I want to do something different this year you know!  I..."  and they just went back and forth like this.

The young reporter would look up to the sky, rubbing his forehead and sighing.  "Alright, I think we have enough footage on what people are looking forward to."  The cameraman would nod, saying a light "thank god" and lower his camcorder.  Looking at his watch, the reporter would nod to himself.  "I think we have some time to look around and find nice shots of the locals or other sights.  Would be good for filler shots of the place.  Probably should pick some places out of town...".  With that, they would move to walk down one of the nearby streets.

"Oh, you have a good one Will!  You too Carl!"  The two men would look back at the woman they were interviewing, who had just called out to them.  "...how do these people know our names anyway?"  "Beats me."  They would both give curious glances to the old lady and themselves before pressing onward in Erin's direction.

She watched this curiously whilst struggling to prevent herself from laughing even as the pair drew closer to her location. There was no way she could approach them now without bringing up their names, as they so helpfully provided aloud. This would not do her any favours when it came to trust, so she quickly devised a plan to approach them and strike up a conversation without appearing to be too suspicious.

When the duo were within a not-awkward conversation distance (or so she believed), she cleared her throat and decided to begin the conversation on her own.

"I too thought it was strange for them to know so much about me when I only arrived early this morning. But in your case, saying your names out loud like that isn't helping your case. Now even I know your names without having had to lift a finger. I'm Erin, Erin Lightheart by the way. So now we're even."

The two men would look to the girl, then to themselves, and back.  It certainly wasn't the most normal introduction regardless of her attempt.

"Thanks, I suppose."  The reporter would say.  "I'm Willard and this is my coworker Carl."  The cameraman would awkwardly wave, considering the equipment he was carrying.  "I guess from what you're saying, you aren't from town?"  With that, he would nudge Carl in the shoulder, looking at him from the corner of his eye.

"Hey, I thought we were..."  Carl would try to ask what Willard was up to before Erin could reply, but...Willard would just cut him off.  "Aside from us, you're the first visitors out of town we've run into.  Do you mind an interview?"  Oh, so that was his idea.  "I'd like to get an idea on some reasons for visitors wanting to come to this year's festival."  The man would smile, crossing his arms.  "I think I have an idea on the whole name thing too, come to think of it.  Fair trade?  I'd like to not have to ask h-her for one so it would help me out."  He would sort of jumble the pronoun a bit, for some reason.

Carl would look to Willard rather curiously.  "Huh?  You said you didn't know like, two seconds ago."  With that, Willard would look to Carl from the corner of his eye.  "Right, and I have an idea now."

Erin was rooted to the earth with a blank expression as she overheard their proposal. What would an interview accomplish considering she knew next to nothing about the town and didn't even want to be there in the first place? Should she be truthful and reveal to them the very boring and disheartening tale of why she had come to this forsaken place? On the other hand, gaining more allies from outside town was likely a good idea considering how bizarre the locals were.

"Okay, I have some time for an interview. I can't guarantee my answers will be particularly interesting or exciting, though. Are you fine with that condition?"

Her stomach growled with hunger as she awaited their answer, and so she momentarily distracted herself from the town's oddity by imagining all the non-pub food available for her to consume once this was over.

Willard would nod. "Yes, of course. Carl, you-" It was then that the stomach growling was rather clear. "Well, we'll eat as we talk about other matters. I haven't seen any other visitors...strangely, so it won't be an issue."

With some rattling from Carl, he was finished. "Will, I'm all set." Willard would nod to him, getting his microphone out and ready. With a flick of Carl's hand..

"Not only are many of the citizens here excited for the upcoming festival, many visitors from out-of-town are coming to enjoy the festivities." Williard would talk to the camera, then turn to Erin. "Miss, what are you looking forward to the most this year?" With that he would hold the microphone up to Erin for her to speak.

Being put on the spot like this so suddenly transformed her stomach's growls into something else entirely. With the microphone shoved awkwardly close to her face, her voice was nowhere to be found, either. Her left hand hesitantly reached out for the microphone to place it in a more proper position before she cleared her throat and put on a fake smile to mask her obvious discomfort.

"What am I looking forward to most this year? Well, that's....t-that's...uh."

Her face turned a spectacular shade of crimson as she looked away from the camera momentarily in a feeble attempt to hide her embarrassment. Before the sudden pause could be considered officially too awkward however, she bravely faced the lens, blushing and all, and resumed speaking.

"What i'm looking forward to most this year is to take part in the sheep judging competition as requested of me and to then leave these wonderful people in peace like everyone wants!"

Her rapid fire speech was awkward in another way, but at least she was able to face her fears.

"What am I looking forward to most this year? Well, that's....t-that's...uh.  What i'm looking forward to most this year is to take part in the sheep judging competition as requested of me and to then leave these wonderful people in peace like everyone wants!"

"A..ah!  Yes, of course."  His voice broke a bit hearing that.  Willard would turn to the camera with a smile on his face.  "It seems all kinds of people are coming to the festivities this year!"  With that, he would motion out of the camcorder's sight for Carl to cut the recording.

"Boy, you weren't kidding..." Willard said, dropping his smile.  He was obviously not very impressed.

"That was god awful."  Carl would mutter under his breath; he was less subtle.

"Hey now.  Lets not have any of that."  He would hold his hand out for a brief moment, reinforcing what he said.  "I think we can make it work out in post.  Lets get something to eat.  I know a pub nearby."  Don't tell me... He would point with his thumb in the direction of where Roderick's pub was.  "To be honest, its probably the only restaurant in town, so its not like we have that many options..."  One wonders how any of the tourists could survive on pub food for the entire duration of the festival.  "At least we have the feast during the festival to look forward to."  Just then, what seemed to be a gust of wind could be heard.  "That's for us you fucking imbecile!"

"The heck was that?"  Carl would look around, then to both Erin and Willard.  "Just the wind, forget about it."  With that, Willard and Carl would begin walking towards Roderick's pub.  "Coming along?  My treat.  Would be nice to talk to someone outside of this town anyway."  Willard would call back to Erin.  

"And I'd like to not carry this stupid thing around for a while..."  Carl would awkwardly put down the camcorder and hold it in one hand down to his side.  Though it seemed somewhat heavy and Carl was certainly well built, so much carrying would wear out anybody.

She couldn't bring herself to lie in this situation, even if it was for the sake of the media. Her frank summation of her situation and feelings was met with some odd looks from the two, but there was no shame to be felt in the end. Now that she was no longer in the spotlight, it felt as though a great weight were lifted from her shoulders and she could breathe normally again. Until the mention of Roderick's pub, that was.

"Wait...you mean there's no other places to eat here? I have to go to that...wre--wonderful establishment in order to even eat?"

Erin immediately went pale at the suggestion. Her previous hunger gave way to anxiety and even despair, as the 'food' that surely awaited her there was bound to make a strict diet appear rather pleasing by comparison. However, she couldn't exactly turn down an offer like theirs, and so she found herself being dragged along toward the hellish pub by the mighty forces of social etiquette. Her kicking and screaming was quite magnificent, but would also attract too much attention, so she resorted to taking it out internally.

"Wait...you mean there's no other places to eat here? I have to go to that...wre--wonderful establishment in order to even eat?"

"Hm?"  Carl would look back for a moment, stopping to let Erin catch up.  "Yeah, yeah...I know the feelin'."  Willard, also stopping, would turn back to the both of them, motioning for them to catch up to him.

The trip to the pub was uneventful.  Though there was maybe one or two villagers on the way who greeted the three of them, most of them had already gone to their daily business, the sun slowly creeping to its highest point in the sky.  Eventually, Roderick's pub was in sight.

"Ah, there it is.  I wonder if the food is any good..." Willard would mention offhanded.  Carl would slowly look at Willard with a look that seemed to be a mixture of both astonishment and envy.  "Well...guess you'll find out, won't you?"  With a confused look, Willard would look to Carl and to Erin.  "Uh, y...yes, I guess I will!"  With that, he would volunteer to open the door first, inviting both Carl and Erin to come in after him.

"Hm?"  Roderick was there, cleaning a plate from behind the counter, the pub completely empty.  From the look of it, Roderick worked at the inn from dusk till dawn.  He would turn to his new customers, spotting Erin among them.  "Ah, Erin, you've come back eh?  Thanks for giving this old man a second chance.  And you brought some more friends too?"  For a moment, Roderick would look the two men over.  "Ah, you're the two boys Llewella mentioned.  And I recognize you Carl, thought you wouldn't come back either."  Roderick would nod to himself.

"Carl, you've been here before?"  Willard would let the door close, looking to Carl for an answer.  "Yeah.  Yeah..."  It seemed Carl wasn't exactly trilled, but he did his best to not sound completely dejected; it was still obvious though.

"Well, there's a good window seat right over there, really beautiful out today.  I'll get to you three once you find a seat."  Roderick would say, putting the plate down that he was cleaning, fumbling under the counter for...something, possibly the menus.

"Hm, I guess that sounds fine.  Over there alright?"  Willard would motion to one of the tables near the window.  It certainly was sunny outside, and for anyone who preferred the look of old timey streets and sidewalks one would certainly call it beautiful.

To say Erin appeared demoralized was an understatement. In fact, she was barely able to place her polite responses on autopilot as she followed the men into the pub in a moody trance. If this universe were more colourful, there was sure to be a dark aura emanating from the girl throughout the whole ordeal.

Once seated, she took a deep breath and snapped out of her comical fugue enough to take in the situation some more. She went over the words they had spoken to her while her mind removed itself from the premises, and there was one that stood out.

"Who is this Llewella? And why have you two come here, exactly?"

She figured it best to keep the focus of the upcoming conversations entirely on them rather than on her.

The two men followed suit, sitting across from her, Carl sitting his camcorder on the ground next to him.

"Who is this Llewella? And why have you two come here, exactly?"

The two men would look to each other almost instinctively; they even surprised each other a bit, jumping back a bit.

"Well, I'm sure its obvious.  We're recording footage for the upcoming festival.  Our station out of London wants some footage to..."  with that, Willard's attitude became a little downcast.  "...fill some dead air, just in case.  But..!"  He would catch himself, trying to brighten himself up.  "It should be alright, the festival sounds like it'll be nice.  And I don't go out all too often."

"Its kind of a lousy job, really."  Carl, however, was blunt as usual.  With that, Willard would jab him a bit with his elbow, Carl wincing for a moment from the sudden impact.  "None of that, please.  You promised."  With that, Carl would sigh, resting his arm on the table and holding his head up with his hand.  It seemed he didn't have much else to say.

"Anyway, Llewella is-"  "Our little village's best, and only, reporter."  Roderick had snuck up on the three of them, placing menus down for them to look at.  The menus were...not the most well kept, but certainly readable.  "Right."  Willard would respond, a little surprised by his sudden appearance.  "Carl and I met with her yesterday.  Reporters talking to reporters, after all..."  Carl would look up to Roderick, who was still standing there.  "Oh, well...let me know when you're ready."  With that, Roderick would return to behind the counter.

"...not that hard to have that title when you're the only one..." Carl would just mention off-handedly.  Willard would again elbow him.   "Will you quit that?!"

"You started it.  Anyway, we met her yesterday.  Eccentric lady, her room was basically a stationary museum.  When we met her she called me by name, saying something about being resourceful.  I just figured our station let her know but...well maybe..."

Carl would stop leaning on the table, picking up the menu and would look over it.  "...huh, so that's what it is."  Carl would mumble to himself as Willard spoke. Willard, thinking Carl was talking to him, would look to him, only to realize Carl was just looking at the menu and wasn't paying attention.  "...oh, right, I guess we should find out what we want."  Willard would look at the menu as well, seeing if there was anything nice to eat.  It was then that Willard realized what Carl meant and he frowned.  The menu was...literally a list of "usuals" and a list of "specials", and the list was very short.

Erin couldn't help but stifle a laugh at watching those two interact. It was clear from their story and reactions that they weren't exactly here because they wished to be. She knew how it felt to be assigned to the least glamorous locales possible; when you're not quite trusted or old enough to handle more exciting tasks, all the unwanted jobs fell upon you by default.

"It's okay, don't worry. I'm not here by choice myself, so you can relax. But even so...that nothing's actually interesting or going on around here is both a hell and heaven, if that makes sense. At the very least I can offer you some good footage of the sheep judging competition later on. I may try to crack a bad joke or something..."

Without question she ordered the same thing she had during her last visit, but with water instead of ale. Pick the enemy you know rather than trusting the unknown. Roderick's sudden amicability would be tested by daring to ask for a non-alcoholic beverage; a little game she devised to keep herself entertained.

"So, while he's preparing our stuff and out of earshot, be honest: Is there really absolutely nothing going on around here? Everyone already seems to know our names without an introduction."

The two men would look to each other for a moment when Erin's expression changed to one trying hold back laughing.

"It's okay, don't worry. I'm not here by choice myself, so you can relax. But even so...that nothing's actually interesting or going on around here is both a hell and heaven, if that makes sense. At the very least I can offer you some good footage of the sheep judging competition later on. I may try to crack a bad joke or something..."

"Well, that's not it.  Willard just likes keeping up airs."  Willard would give Carl a pretty mean look, looking at where he had elbowed Carl several times, as if giving him an ultimatum.  Carl would sigh, crossing his arms.  "Don't pay me enough..."

"Anyway, that's certainly appreciated.  Having an insider to talk to when things begin would be a benefit..."  He would rub his chin, thinking.  "So, are you three ready?"  Willard's concentration was easily broken; Carl had called Roderick over to begin ordering.  "Yeah, I'll take what I had last time.  Just...not so much seasoning, is that alright?"  Carl would look to Roderick to get a feel for his request.  Roderick's expression was similar to Erin's before, save that it was more anger than laughter, yet... "Yes, yes of course!"  He swallowed it, nodding to Carl and writing his order down on a small notepad he brought with him.  It seemed Carl had the same idea as Erin.

"Hmm...ham sandwich sounds fine.  A little too early to drink for me, too, so water is fine"  Willard would give his order.  "But the ale is...yes, of course."  Roderick took everything to swallow his pride.  "I'll be back then."  With that, he would walk into the back room, presumably where the kitchen was.

"So, while he's preparing our stuff and out of earshot, be honest: Is there really absolutely nothing going on around here? Everyone already seems to know our names without an introduction."

"Well, seems like a rather quaint little place to me..." Willard would say, leaning back in his chair, his unease slowly lifting from him after Roderick left  to make their food.  "They say nothing really happens here, kind of easy to believe that.  The whole name thing though...sure, its curious."  Willard would pause in thought.  "So what, Llewella made some public announcement when we were sleeping, is that what you're saying?"  Carl would chime in, seemingly trying to get Willard to spit it out.  "Something like that..."  Willard would stare up at the ceiling, his arms crossed behind his neck.  "That's stupid, why didn't we hear about it?"  With that, Willard would bring his chair back on all fours, putting his hands on the table, as if to say something profound.

"No idea."

"You're kidding.  Honestly this place gives me the creeps.  If this place was crime free we'd be hearing something about groups trying to use the town to lay low or something, yeah?"  Carl would say something pretty sensible, but... "This isn't some TV show, Carl.  There's no evidence of it.  I think they're just trying to make visitors comfortable by being friendly, and one way of being friendly is knowing your name.  They just screwed it up.  Hanlon's razor, y'know."  Carl would look to Willard for a moment.  "What does a razor have to do with people being creepy?"  Willard would sigh to that.  "Basically, don't think something bad is going on if you can attribute the problem to a screwup."  "Oh."

"Anyway, you seem to think differently though." Willard would look to Erin.  "Do you know something?  I mean...that would make an interesting article."  He would return to rubbing his chin, thinking.

"Well, this barkeep was a total dick yesterday, that's totally suspic-" Carl would try to give some advice, if not interrupted by Willard trying to smash his foot by stomping on it, but Carl moved his foot, making Willard awkwardly stomp the floor of the pub.  Carl would snicker a little to himself, having caught on to Willard's attempt to punish him for his comments.

"No, I don't know anything conclusive; it's just that in my line of work the number of coincidences can often be tied proportionally to the chance of something being more than it appears to be."

She glanced lazily around the pub while pretending to yawn and stretch in her seat. Her real goal of course was to see if anyone in particular was watching them, or if she could spot any cameras. Her sight was filled with the undeniable scene of the same patrons who filled the same seats during her previous visit no longer being there. The emptiness was eerie, to say the least.

"...As I was saying. There's something not proper about all of this. I don't know what this is yet, but something is here, and it's chilly."

She then inexplicably began smiling wide, as a means of indicating that Roderick was about to return to being within earshot.

"No, I don't know anything conclusive; it's just that in my line of work the number of coincidences can often be tied proportionally to the chance of something being more than it appears to be."

"O-oh, well then..." Willard would give a rather awkward smile and look away.  He had thought perhaps this girl had some sort of inside information to a big scoop but in reality she had nothing, so he almost let the idea get to his head completely.

"...As I was saying. There's something not proper about all of this. I don't know what this is yet, but something is here, and it's chilly."

At that moment, the doors to the pub opened, the afternoon air pouring into the pub, one man holding the door for another as they entered the almost empty pub, save of course Erin and the others.  The two men looked around the pub for a moment, noticing the three, a slight frown appearing on their faces.  Regardless, they would move to sit on the opposite side of the pub, not waiting for Roderick to come back out from the back room, talking amongst each other.

Minutes passed, Willard and Carl at this point trying to relax a bit amongst themselves.  "The food sure is..." at that moment, Roderick stepped out from the back with a big pan, three plates and three glasses on top.  Though it seemed fairly heavy, he was doing a good job balancing everything as he walked over to the three, seemingly oblivious of the two men who had stepped in before he came out.  "Sorry for the wait."  With that, Roderick would hand the three of them their plates and drinks.  Everything seemed up to standard, although Erin's meal to her probably looked more presentable than last time.  "Hope you enjoy."  Roderick would slide the pan under his arm and make a slight bow before attempting to walk away, turning to notice the two men in the back.  "...hmm."  Roderick's eyes would narrow; he certainly didn't look pleased, walking towards the two men who had at this point been moving papers back and forth amongst one another; seemed they were using the pub as a meeting place more than a place to eat.

"Thanks..." Carl would add, looking back at his plate, which looked like what Albrekka ordered the night before.  "Huh, looks better than last time."  With that, he would start eating, Willard following suit.  They had not much to add, eating whatever was in front of them.  The two men and Roderick, though, were seemingly talking about something, Roderick motioning towards the door with his hand, the two men seemingly trying to calm Roderick down, speaking in hushed voices.

This spectacle was impossible not to notice, and so Erin ate in silence as she did her best to observe the strange incident unfolding right in front of them. With the exchange of papers, and the proprietor's grim and antagonistic reaction, it was pretty clear something was going on. Even if they were going to conduct business in the Pub, it wasn't as though they weren't going to eat and drink at the same time, so what had gotten Roderick so flustered? While the man was distracted by the two mysterious visitors, Erin took the opportunity to quietly ask.

"What's going on over there? Do you know who those two are,  perchance?"

Being reporters who had experienced more of the townfolk than she had, she hoped that they would be able to provide an answer. If not, then she'd be stuck finding out the old fashioned way. However, she was fine with such a distraction to keep her busy and entertained given the lack of other interesting activities the village had to offer.

"What's going on over there? Do you know who those two are,  perchance?"

Both Willard and Carl would look over their shoulders when she said it, Carl shrugging his shoulders.  "No idea."  Willard would chime in as well.  Though Willard was certainly a reporter, they also only recently came to the town; reporters tend to not know every person in a town, after all.

The spectacle did indeed continue for a while.  One of the men would hold his hands out in an attempt to quell Roderick's wrath.  Eventually, Roderick would walk away, picking up two of the three menus he had given the three of them, looking over to Erin's table with a worried look, handing it to the two men, walking into the back room.  For now, it seemed the rampage had ceased.

"...guess he doesn't like loiterers?"  Willard would to Erin and Carl in some attempt to gain some sort of agreement.  Carl would only offer a shrug of his shoulders, returning to his meal, finishing it up.  Willard had long finished his, being more of a quicker eater.

"So, after this we'll go back to our original plan, sound good?"  Willard would look to Carl.  "Would be good to get some scenic shots."  Carl would nod, his mouth full. If left be, eventually the tension inside the pub would dissipate, the two men ordering food and returning to their work, shuffling paper about. It did seem at face value that Roderick certainly did not like people loitering in his place of business...

She wished to check up on those two without drawing attention to herself. With Roderick once again outside of earshot, this might be her only opportunity, but how could she actually approach them and not be found suspicious after the thrashing Roderick gave them? She pondered this for a moment, even ignoring what her breakfast guests had to say, when she spied the nearby bathrooms.

"Excuse me, i'll be right back."

She rose from her seat and walked along a route to the bathroom that would allow her to walk directly by the table of those two strange men and perhaps listen in on their conversation. Naturally, when she was within earshot she would pretend to kneel down to fiddle with her laces for a moment before resuming her journey. Would this effort be rewarded...?

The voices of the two men were certainly inaudible because of the distance and that they spoke rather lightly, shuffling papers between one another.

"Mm."  Carl would finish off his meal, leaning back in his chair.  It seemed that the both of them were going to leave soon, Willard motioning to Carl to speak with him, though the focus on the two men's conversation would make it hard to listen to both.

"...so it seems."  The seemingly younger of the two crossed his arms, looking at some piece of paper on the table; Erin had finally gotten close enough to get an idea of what they were saying.  "Well, once I sell, looks like I can set up shop somewhere out of this place.  Glasgow would be a start." The older man would nod to himself, pointing to some other piece of paper in the sea of papers, perhaps in some way to prove his point. "Really want to get out of here?  Don't blame you."  "Fuck this p-eh?"  The two would notice Erin tying her shoes, quieting down for a moment; for a moment they probably thought Roderick had returned.  After a second or two, the younger man would resume their talk.  "Really going to drink this early?"  "Eh, he likes selling the stuff, it'll keep him off my back."  "That's the excuse?"  "Oh come off it!"  The older man almost lost it for a moment it seemed, quickly quieting back down.

That was about as much Erin could get before reaching the bathroom.  It seemed they were simply yelled at for loitering as Carl and Willard suggested.  This business arrangement seemed to be why they met in the dead pub at this time of day, was almost like they expected it.

The effort was fruitful indeed, but the puzzle pieces it provided were still blurry and unclear. After a moment of pondering in isolation, she made sure to return to her table at a casual pace, still trapped inside her own head. Could Roderick hold ill-will toward business deals being conducted in his pub, a place meant for merriment and relaxation? If that were the case, then those men must not be locals, as they would have been aware of such an unspoken rule long ago.

"Food's definitely better than it was previously. Maybe I was just tired the first time..."

She made small talk, but it was less than a conscious effort, as her brain was otherwise preoccupied with more pressing matters. That initial reaction to those men doing some sort of business deal, everyone in town somehow knowing the names of all newcomers, the bizarre reaction she and Albrekka had received upon first stepping foot in this very pub...did it all add up to something? She shook her head without realizing it. Not everyone was suspicious, not every strange thing was a conspiracy. Perhaps she really needed this vacation and alone time more than she realized?

"Oh, are you leaving already? Thank you for the meal. My apologies for not being more helpful."

As Erin stepped out of the bathroom, Roderick could be seen approaching the two men's table, their table a little more tidied up.

"I'm surprised you even have that much money out of the bank here; people really have that much money?"  As Erin stepped out, the two continued to talk.  "Oh, just have to be...smart about it."  "Here you go."  Roderick would serve them and as Erin kept walking, their dialogue became more and more inaudible, thought footsteps implied that the exchange did not last long.

"Ah, you're back."  Willard and Carl would say to her, standing to the side of the table.  "Yeah, we have some shots we need to get before evening sets in; shots wouldn't make sense if the timing isn't right."  Carl would nod in agreement.  "Was a nice break though.  Nice meeting you lass."  Carl would head out first, leaving Willard.  "...I didn't mean I'd pay for him too."  Willard would sigh, seemed Carl left more than Willard behind.  With that, Willard would go up to the counter, paying for the three of them.

"Catch you later, I'm sure we'll run into each other again."  Willard would wave, leaving Erin behind in the pub.  What now?  The sun was still high in the sky, the day far from over.

Erin waved to the departing gentlemen wearily, her mind elsewhere. Once she was sure she had overstayed her welcome and felt increasingly uncomfortable being in Roderick's pub alone, she departed with great haste. Once she was within distance of the hotel, she stepped in to get changed to her daytime clothes and headed back out again.

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the peaceful activities of the townspeople were definitely a welcome change of pace from the vagarious streets of London. She resisted the urge to just go and roll around in the grass by keeping her mind on the business deal she had overheard earlier, but this was not an easy task. In fact, she was already entranced by visions of having a wonderful adventure in the heart of the village.

And so her pace quickened rapidly in an effort to go and find these adventures and run into them head on! What sort of activities and sights awaited her?

With the sun beaming down on her, mixed with the cool air, and the clear sky above, it certainly felt like a fun adventure was to be had.

The streets certainly sprawled throughout the town with many intersections, though no cars could be seen.  Eventually, in the distance, banners could be seen.  "Festival".  How descriptive, though as she kept moving, it certainly looked like the main hub for events the town was going to have.

The hub was certainly large, enough to fit several of the known events Erin had heard of and more, the area surrounded by several of the towns' buildings, one of which was the local church, others simply some of the towns' businesses and homes.  The area wasn't deserted though, as many of the townspeople were already at work putting together some of the "spectacles" to be had, some being what you would see at local fair such as strongman games straight out of the 30s and other very mundane carnival games.  One spectacle did catch her eye; it was a makeshift pen, makeshift being the key word, with a banner asking for people to register.  Nearby were two men who were simply sitting around playing cards.  It seemed they were waiting for people to show up, anyway.  Was this the setup for the  sheep contest?  And why did one of them have a shotgun under his arm?  Is that legal?