Tycondrius settled his bill with a staff member of the Broken Drum inn and tavern. It pained him to see so much coin lightening his wallet... but the beds were comfortable and the rooms were clean. It was well worth the additional coin to not sleep in squalor.
He did not add an additional tip. If the Broken Drum wanted more of his coin, they'd have to wait for Sol Invictus to stay another evening.
Isidor wore his hood low, revealing only a nose and wide, unsmiling lips on a beardless chin. A leather sack nearly half his size was slung over the stout fellow's shoulder.
"What's in the sack, Brother-Isidor?" Tycon asked. He was fairly certain of the answer, but still... he held hope that he'd be pleasantly surprised.
"It'ssssss... filled withhhh... sssssouvenirs..." Isidor explained.
Tycon took a deep breath, "Isidor, really? How are you going to carry all that?"
