"That will be helpful then. As for payment..." Loki answered, trailing off at the end. "It is a complicated matter. You see, I and my companions are neither from this nation, nor the other one. In fact, we do not hail from this world at all. Through circumstances I have yet to grasp, we have ended up on this world, while we ought be elsewhere. So, please. Could you not aid us wayward souls and perhaps donate the map? It is the only thing we ask of you..." he added, sounding pleading, but not desperate.
[hr]
Some distance away from the inn, stood a fairly tall man, wearing mismatched clothing and a makeshift jester hat, made of various pieces of cloth. The locals seemed to give the man a wide berth, while some gave him a disaproving look.
"I tells ya! That lake is cursed! Cursed! You're all just going about your business, pretending things are aaaall dandy, but it's only a matter of time! Ya hear!" he shouted off the top of his lungs, splashing about in the rain.