The sound was so bizarre to him that Logan turned to where the voice came from with an expression of utter perplexity on his face; and he knew it must have been the same for Stalk, because he did much the same.

Twisting around, Logan lowered his gaze to the floor to see a tiny figure standing just behind him, so short that the crown of his head was only barely higher than the paladin's bar stool. Said crown was covered in a shock of dry, mangy blonde hair, with weeds and twigs tangled within the thick, bedraggled tufts that stuck out as though the bearer had been struck by lightning. From either side of the figure's head sprouted large stick-out ears like those of a monkey, and a beard in a chin curtain style puffed out from underneath the wide, grinning mouth, though it wasn't well-cut by any stretch of the imagination – not only was it as filthy as the hair on his head, but it was lopsided, and a few stray yellow hairs could still be seen on the upper lip.

The rest of this tiny man was just as bizarre. He carried a simple wooden stick in his right hand, and had a shield strapped to his left arm that was nothing more than a few wooden boards tied haphazardly together with animal hide. Also, he didn't wear silk, leather, wool or even sackcloth - of all things, he was clad in leaves!

Leaves of all colours, from bright emerald ones you might see in a jungle to withered ones of orange and brown taken right out of mid-autumn, all strung together with what looked like knotted strands of grass. Combined, they formed a sleeveless and shapeless garment that hung down to the knees and rustled as he stood rubbing his hands in amusement. Lastly, two legs as skinny as a bird's stuck out from underneath the entire ensemble and ended with bare feet whose tops were each covered in a carpet of more yellow hair.

Logan figured him for a halfling, but he was without a doubt, the most unusual halfling the Galehaut had ever seen.

"Um... hello," he said politely in greeting, to which the halfling twisted his head up, craning his neck to look Logan in the face. His own eyes were as richly green as the leaves on his body, glinting with just a hint of what might have been either brilliance or just plain madness, peering out from between a few more loose strands of blonde that dangled down like vines.

"Hello there!" he declared, grinning from ear to ear.

Logan was at a complete loss for words at the sight of the unusual little man, and to his surprise, it was Ren who struck up conversation with the halfling, seeming a bit less perturbed than himself.

'For a shy guy, he's better at this than me' Logan thought.

"Hey there, little guy..." Ren said softly as he turned around. "Are you alright?"
The halfling pouted and folded his arms. "Yeah, but I thought these guys were going to fight or argue or something!" he said, speaking more like a stroppy child than a bearded wild man... or wild halfling, in this case.

Ren gave an uncertain look before replying. "Well, I'm glad they didn't..." he told the halfling, giving the two more feisty individuals a quick glance before forcing a smile and saying "... but I think you just caught them off guard, you know? Cat got your tongue and all that..."

The halfling's expression suddenly softened, leaving him vacantly staring into space as he said "Cats... I like cats."
Ren's smile grew more genuine as he heard that. "I like cats too- yowzah!"

The young elf then went from calm to stumbling backwards in shock when all of a sudden, the halfling dropped his stick and shield, got down on all fours and, right in front of everyone, started meowing and yowling to no-one in particular. He remained there for a while, oblivious to Gaston and a quite a few of the other tavern-goers guffawing as they watched.

Speechless, Logan turned to Ren and saw that the wizard was just as dumbstruck as he was. If anything, that made him even more uncomfortable, and when Elsa came back to see this, only to smile a little, the paladin gave her a look before asking "Is this one a regular?"

Elsa met his gaze and shook his head "Oh no, sir knight! This one came in with the elven noblewoman," she explained. "The two of them have been staying in my back room, which I reserve for any nobility who deign to grace my humble establishment... especially if they wish for some privacy." She then gestured to a door that was right behind the bar, made conspicuous by the decorative golden hinges and the rectangular peephole covered by a sliding metal plate.

Hearing this made Logan's disbelief deepen, along with dread that said noblewoman was going to be a stuck-up ponce who kept the halfling as some kind of twisted pet... or worse.

With the rest of the inn continuing to watch the halfling's cat impersonation, Logan was the only one who noticed what happened next. Not even Elsa saw or heard when the door to the isolated back room swung open to reveal part of a room illuminated by short, stunted candles that had wax pooling at their bases and foaming out of the trays they sat within. A red velvet rug laid across the sanded wooden floor seemed to glow in the orange light, and the rim of a circular wooden table sported an empty porcelain bowl, a chased goblet of silver that glittered from the reflected candleflames, and a glass perfume bottle half-full of a rose-pink liquid.

Curiosity piqued in Logan's mind, and then, as something stepped out, that curiosity suddenly flourished and burst into a rush of amazement and wonder.

Through the doorway came the most gorgeous creature that Logan had ever seen in his life. Her hair was like honey poured from a pitcher, the wavy golden locks cleanly parted on either side of her long, elegant face by the points of her tapered ears. Every inch of her skin was fair and flawless, while her shining eyes were bright turquoise and her full lips the same light pink as the blossoms on a cherry tree. Her features were fine and delicate, her eyes large and almond-shaped, her figure graceful and willowy and womanly beneath a form-fitting dress of lilac trimmed in white, with hanging sleeves and a garland of pink roses cinched about her narrow waist. A pendant bearing a large golden love-heart hung from about her slender neck, the scent of rose oil, lavender and all the other flowers she wore graced the air about her as she came closer, as if announcing her arrival alongside the clacking of heeled shoes on the wooden floor.

Her beauty was so beyond anything he'd imagined, that for a moment, Logan didn't think she could be real. Only when the other patrons reacted to her passing, mostly with either lecherous gazes or a wide-eyed gawping not dissimilar to his own, did he realize he wasn't hallucinating and immediately shook himself out of his stupor.

A true knight did not gawp at any woman, let alone a lady of noble bearing... for that was what she clearly was, beyond any shred of doubt.

The elf-maid moved with a poise so incredible it was almost frightening, every step as graceful as the wind through the trees, and as she reached the halfling, she put her hands on her knees and bent down to bring her face closer to his.

"Finnan?" she asked in a voice as soft as a kiss. "What are you trying to do?"
The halfling looked up to her, though he remained on all fours. "I'm a cat," he replied simply, like a child at play talking to its mother. As he spoke, he lifted his right leg and scratched at his neck with his bare feet.
The elf woman responded by smiling sweetly. "We talked about this, don't you remember?" she asked, placing her hand on her knees as she leant down to get closer to the halfling. "You can pretend to be an animal when we're alone, but not in public..." she explained calmly. "If we're going to help you, you're going to need to learn to interact with people."

The elf's words seemed to move the little halfling, who pushed himself to his feet while his lower lip stuck out in a grumpy, pouting expression. He then folded his arms and slumped his shoulders, sulking while everyone looked on, though he paid them no mind.

From beside Logan, Elsa called out to the elven lady and asked, "Is everything alright, dearie?" before immediately flushing and clearing her throat. "I mean... m'lady?" she corrected as she bowed her head low.

Her Ladyship responded to this mistake with nothing but a gracious smile. Pacing over to the bar, she met Elsa's gaze and said "It's no trouble, Madame Elsa. I just hope Finnan didn't cause too much trouble..."
"Oh, absolutely not!" Elsa replied. "And you needn't call me such, m'lady. It's just Elsa."
"All folk are deserving of respect, Madame. You most of all, given that you offered your best room to myself and Finnan. For that, such courtesies no less than your rightful due."

Her words were well-spoken, her voice sweet and soft as the blooms about her waist, and her genteel, compassionate manner intrigued Logan. But that feeling was soon washed away by a tide of nerves as her dazzling face turned his way, her long hair whispering across the silk of her gown. As he stood silent, her eyes met his, and her lips parted to speak.

"And who might you be, sir?" she asked. "I beg your pardon, but I don't recall seeing you here before..."

Logan quivered like a naked man in midwinter, his tongue flapping in his mouth like a stranded fish as he floundered for an answer. His mind was blank as could be, and his internal kicking of himself made things all the worse.

'I should know what to say...' he was screaming inside his skull. 'I should know what to say!'

"Forgive me, my lady..." Ren said "... but who might you be?"

When the wood elf cut in, Logan felt both relief and anger – not at Ren, but at himself. Still, the noble lady smiled at Ren and said "There is nothing to forgive..." before dipping down and lifting her skirt slightly as she curtseyed to the two of them and introduced herself. "Arabella Moonflower, at your service."

'Moonflower...'

That name rang a bell somewhere in Logan's head, but that didn't help him now. Finally finding his tongue, Logan bowed his head low, speaking only as he rose back up "Sir Logan Galehaut, my lady... at your service."

Arabella gave him a warm smile before turning to Ren and speaking to him in a language that Logan didn't understand; a flowing, elegant tongue as smooth as silk. Ren seemed shocked for a moment before also bowing his head and replying, though all that Logan could make out from it was Ren giving his name. Nonetheless, Arabella inclined her head before, thankfully, returning to speaking in the common tongue.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both..." she said kindly. One of her ears seemed to twitch slightly, and she then sidestepped gracefully to see Finnan walk over to her side, still visibly sulking. Arabella then went on to say, "This is my own dear companion, Finnan Greatsurge," as she extended a hand in his direction.

Looking at Finnan, Logan was still unsure of how to speak to the little guy, but he continued to err on the side of courtesy. "It's, um... nice to meet you, Finnan," he said. "You certainly seem an... interesting sort."
"That's putting it mildly," Stalk quipped, still standing beside Logan as he took another swig of his drink. As she spoke, Arabella's head flicked across and down to face him, for the elf was far taller than Stalk was; Logan would have put her at five-foot-ten in her high heels.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were with Sir Logan and Master Ren as well," she said, a statement that made alarm rise in Logan's chest.
"No!" he blurted out, almost shouting before he quickly composed himself. "No, my lady... this one's not with us."
Stalk gave him a look then, his orange eyes narrowing and the base of his beak contorting before he said "It's true. I'm not."

His tone of voice silently said 'And a good thing too' as he kept his eyes on Logan.

What the kenku seemed to surprise Arabella, as her eyes widened when she heard that. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to assume."
Stalk replied "It's fine. A lot of people assume far worse things about me..." he said, his tone tinged with spite as he gave Logan another quick glance – one that made him clench his jaw in frustration.

Arabella continued onward, asking Stalk for his name, and when he gave it, she dipped down again and said, "It's nice to meet you, Stalk." She then had to quickly look down and say "Finnan..." as she saw the little halfling reaching to poke Stalk's tail feathers. Her tone was too gentle to be any kind of warning, but still, the halfling stopped.

Looking down at Finnan himself as this happened, Logan's memory jolted as he remembered something Arabella had said earlier, and so he asked her "Pardon the question, my lady, but I overheard you say something to Finnan about him needing help. Is something going on?"

As he said that, Stalk gave a chuckle, as if saying 'Oh, he definitely needs help!'

Arabella turned to Logan as she heard his deep voice, replying with "Well, there is, Sir..." as she brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "... but I wouldn't wish to bother you with it."
Logan replied "It's not a bother at all. Helping others is what I'm sworn to do," he told her. "I'm a paladin, you see..."
"A paladin?" Arabella asked, her eyes noticeably brightening. "Oh, that's wonderful!"
The way she said that, coupled with the shy smile she gave him, that made Logan feel distracted for just a moment before she continued to speak and he refocused his mind.

"I think our predicament is something that I think you'd be far more qualified to take care of than me, Sir Logan," Arabella replied. "You see, I'm a-"

Like the sound of an oncoming avalanche, the slow, booming thud of heavy footsteps on stairs echoed throughout the common room, and in that instant, Arabella fell silent while the hubbub of the entire inn instantly stopped dead. Only the sounds of shouting and laughter from those who had just left could be heard outside the inn, muffled by the walls. Logan turned his head towards the far right of the common room, where an indoor staircase spiralled up to the third floor... with a figure slowly descending it.

The wooden steps were creaking and straining under the newcomer's weight, bending and even splintering in places whenever one of the massive feet, both the size and shape of shovels, took a step forward. But that wasn't the most unusual thing – that was reserved for the slow mechanical whirring and clanking that accompanied each step.

"What in the name of the..." Logan muttered aloud as the mystery figure stepped out into the open. He might have been the largest man the young paladin had ever seen; over eight feet tall, broad and built like a fortress gate... but Logan wasn't sure he was a man, nor any living creature at all. Metal scales coated him from neck to knee, but underneath the armour, his arms and legs were made of thick pistons, gears and other pieces of machinery Logan was completely unfamiliar with. A bronze battleaxe hung from the figure's hip, within reach of fingers that were made of segmented metal digits, its sharpened head serrated with teeth like those of a gear cog. His feet were great flat panels of solid steel, and from between a turquoise hood over his head and a dull grey grill that covered his nose and mouth peered two very different eyes – one that was human, bloodshot with a watery green iris, and another that was just an unblinking circle of glowing red light.

A deafening silence reigned over the inn's entire clientele as the figure planted himself in the middle of the room, with figures either cringing back or reaching for their weapons as the single red eye surveyed them like a searchlight. The massive figure did nothing in response, only twisting about and walking over to the bar where Logan, Ren, Arabella, Stalk and Finnan all were.

He came to a halt in front of the five of them, looking down on them with his living eye full of spite and contempt before a single word came from the grill over his face.

"Move."

The voice was flat and grainy, each word stilted and complete bereft of inflection, static crackling and popping at the air as each sound was made. Arabella and Ren immediately got out of the way, with Ren hopping down from his stool and taking his water with him.

Logan, however, stayed where he was, and Stalk did much the same, not moving an inch from his stool. The paladin immediately felt alarm as he saw the huge figure, so much so that he was tempted to reach for his sword. However, before he could do that or even speak to the looming figure, Finnan walked right up to the giant and beat him to it.

~~~

"Wow, you're big!"

Technus tilted his head down, his telescopic red eye clicking as it refocused on a new target. A wretched and pitiful halfling, covered in leaves and skinny as the twigs protruding from his person, was obstructing his path.

An insignificant obstacle, but something Technus would rather not step on. The twigs and bones might damage his mechanisms.

"Move, creature. I will not ask again."

Still, the halfling looked at him dopily, cocking his head while his mouth hung open.

"Oi, mate." another voice piped up. "What's your problem? Leave him alone..."

Technus lifted his gaze again to see another being of flesh – a kenku, its feathered frame half-hidden amidst dark cloth, as if it was hiding the weakness of its organic form.

"I speak as needed, meat." Technus retorted. "I intend to pay the innkeeper for my accommodation, and I cannot do this while you are in the way."

Sadly, that wasn't the end of it. A human, black-haired and golden-eyed, clad in half-plate armour, refused to step aside. Instead, he stepped boldly to Technus, full of defiance as the two of them stood foot-to-foot.

This one was interesting - he might have even been impressive if his body were the same metal as his armour.

"Be that as it may..." the human began "You cannot – "
"It is as it is." Technus interrupted. "You and the short one will step away, or I shall force you."

Pride and anger burned in the human's golden eyes, but no other part of him moved.

~~~

Logan's temper was fraying, his face dark and his innards ablaze with fury. "You must be the cleric Elsa mentioned..." he said in a barely measured tone. "... but even if you are a man of faith, that gives you no right to mistreat others. Or harm them."

It was true that Logan hadn't seen this man, or whatever it was that he presumed was the cleric that Elsa said was upstairs, hurt anyone directly. But the fact that the entire inn went silent certainly made him suspicious. If this figure was bullying those who came through, extorting them for something or worse, the young paladin would teach him otherwise. By the blade if need be.

The massive figure paused, his biological eye flicking over to Elsa for a good few seconds as she stood behind the counter while his glowing red eye remained on Logan. "Affirmative," he eventually replied. "I am Brother Technus, Tech-Cleric of the Order of the Turning Cog."

Logan nodded. "Sir Logan Galehaut. Paladin of Bahamut."

The biological eye blinked as Technus replied, "Your god is not mine, creature. I do not recognize any authority you have."

Logan's right hand was hanging down by his hip, inching inwards towards his belt – hoping to reach for his sword if he had the time, or his dagger if he didn't. In the edges of his field of view, he saw the figure's bronze axe gleam, along with the shimmer of sweat on the brows of a few nearby.

"Brother Technus!" Elsa's voice suddenly chimed up.

Stiffly, the massive figure's head rotated to the right and then down as the innkeeper eased her way past her onlooking customers to stand beneath him. As she came within reaching distance of him, before she could say a word, Technus said "I am departing. I shall pay my dues presently."

"Already?" she asked, looking a little surprised. "You've not even been her a full day, dearie! The room is yours until noon tomorrow – surely you'd like to at least sleep while it's dark outside and eat something come morn?"

Technus' face-covering grill hissed at her cordial suggestion – whether it was a sigh or a scoff, Logan couldn't tell. Even as he stood face-to-face with this 'Tech-Cleric', he had heard no sounds or noticed any movements that suggested he was even breathing...

"I have no need for such sloth or sustenance, for the machine never rests, nor do Tech-Clerics," Technus said, his statical voice full of pride as he stood tall and extended his abdominal pistols to puff up his chest. "I came here to pray to Erathis, the goddess of my order, for it would not be fitting to exalt the glories of the Lawbearer amidst the organic filth of the natural world." Twisting around, the augmented enormity once again scanned the clientele of the inn as they looked at him, whispers and attempts to consume alcohol discreetly freezing as the onlookers noticed him looking. "You would do well to remember this – the Lady of Civilization gave you the laws that order you, the tools that you use and the roof over your head this very instant! Give yourself to her ways, to her innovations, and your thanks shall be repaid in a better life in this world and the next!"

Logan heard Stalk scoff, but before he could say anything to either the kenku or Technus...

There was a high, shrill laughing. For a moment he feared that someone might be laughing at him for not knocking this figure down a peg, or at Technus for his sermon. But the muffling of the sound against solid stone walls told him that it was coming from outside.

He almost sighed in relief then... until he heard shouts and screams mixed in with the laughter, along with the panicked whinnying of horses.

Logan sidestepped away from Technus at last, looking toward the door. The laughter continued, though it was more of a maniacal cackling now. There was no joke, and yet someone was howling with wild, ecstatic hilarity. And as it grew louder, seeming to split into several voices echoing over each other, a few more of the clientele turned towards the door as well. Technus did, and in the tail of his eye, Logan saw Ren and Arabella step forward together, and Stalk slowly set down his beer.

"What was that?" Arabella asked softly.

"I don't know..." Logan replied. The light peering in from between the boards of a shutter was blocked in places as a figure seemed to walk by, the creaking and tapping of objects on wood echoing all around the building from outdoors.

"Bah! I'll see to whatever blighters are out there myself, if you're all too chicken!" Gaston the mercenary declared boldly, slamming down his drink and belching before he stormed off from the table. Even as Elsa protested, the bearded brute and his companion marched for the door, each pulling a handaxe from their belts. Most of the armed bodyguards went to join them, each one grinning brazenly and some even laughing in their own right at the fear of those who stayed behind.

Leading the way, Gaston reached to open the door... only for it to suddenly explode in a burst of splinters and gleeful howling, which soon mixed with screams and cries of agony when a wave of claws, teeth and sharpened blades tore into everything nearby, armour and flesh shredded like so much paper until gore was all that remained.