Milo shook his head as if to dismiss the implied compliment, answering, "Eo knows, someone has to," then quickly adding with a wink, "… and, Mister Volo, is there any truth to the rumor that your next publication will be a guide to Cormyr? Not that I would concern myself with such things."

"Right on top of things, as usual, Milo," Volo answered, "not that the Dragon's Jaws Inn has anything to worry about. Everyone knows it's the best-run establishment in all Cormyr, with no small thanks to you and its gregarious proprietor."

"From your lips to Eo's ears."

"Speaking of which, is the proprietor in?"

"Oh, no, Mister Volo," Milo answered, with just a hint of sarcastic disapproval. "It's way too early for Himself to arrive. Not that we couldn't use an extra set of hands with all the pilgrims coming through, and the War Wizards gathering. Of course, not that he would lend us those hands to begin with… but I am sure that he will be in soon and that he will be overjoyed that you have agreed to accept our hospitality. Now, enough of this blocking the doorway with chitchat and mutual admiration. I am sure that you and, uh…"

"His name is Passepout, son of Catinflas and Addled."

"That's Catinflas and Idle, the famous thespians," Passepout corrected, then, realizing his alleged station, added, "Master."

"Quite," conceded Volo, as if the distinction were unnecessary.

"Uh, yes," hastened Milo, not wishing to come between a master and his servant. "I am sure that you must be hungry from your long journey. Do you wish separate accommodations in the stable for your stout companion? I am sure that we can arrange a place for him in the stables, though judging from his build I fear the safety of the horses given the evidence of his appetite."

"No, no. Passepout stays with me," Volo answered.

"Wonderful," Passepout whispered under his breath, spying a roast that appeared to be being taken to the table that was to be their destination.