Amala still kept a bemused eye on the happenings with the smelly Roman, even as she hung pine up from every nook and cranny and tossed anything that would emit a pleasant smell into the central hearth.

The Red Boar may have been home to more than a few rowdy fights, heavy drinking, but nothing prepared it for the smell of the Roman.

She only briefly looked up from her feeble attempts of purification (How could anyone smell THAT bad and not be dead?) when the door bounced off the wall and an familiar figure walked in.

For an all too brief period she thought her worries about smelly Romans would be over. Instead, she saw shrugged shoulders and heard the ever present call for more drink.

"Hmmmph," Now she shrugs her shoulders, "well, I think I'm going to need more pine. Hmmmmm....wonder if there still is some amber about?".