Coming to his feet Quentin looks at the map studying it for a few moments. Then he gets up and takes out a spyglass and a compass from a pocket on the interior of his jacket. He takes a few readings, orienting himself before he turns and sights in the direction he believes the map leads to. "Excellent, we should get there before evening." He informs the two. "So, with that in mind shall we head back into town and get some lunch and some supplies before we depart?"

The evening?! Well, he sure hoped they weren't going to walk to wherever they were going. But he said no such thing. Instead, he tried to look happy - it looked more like a grimace - nodded and said: "Sure."

Claire tried not to laugh at the man's expression when it looked like he was about to poop himself or something. She barely managed to swallow a giggle. In fact, she forced a neutral expression upon her face and gave an affirmative to Quentin in the form of a nod. Good, a break was much needed. She was hungry.

It doesn't take them long to find a little eatery on the edge of town where they could get some fried fish and chips. "We will likely be camping tonight." He explains to his young charges. "I suspect there will be some spelunking in our future and we will benefit from getting an early start if we are cave diving."

Gareth followed Quentin quietly, eating his meal in a silence that would have been undisturbed if it hadn't been for Quentin's next conjectures. If Gareth had grimaced before, he looked positively sullen now. He hated camping, and he certainly wasn't keen on getting lost in a cave. Sure, he was a reporter, but he had taken the job to bully people and feel a sense of power, not to have adventures. "Are you sure that's a good idea, sir," he said, trying to sound neutral. "It's freezing at night."

She had never been camping before and said, "Camping?" And then she rubbed her chin gently. "Alright." Camping would be interesting, she thought as she bit into her food.

"It is only necessary if we wish to recover the treasure with practicality and safety in mind Mister Scott. You may find yourself surprised at how grateful you can be for a ready-made campsite when you emerge from a cave." Quentin's opinion of Gareth Scott had started with some positivity but the more the man's character revealed itself, the less appealing Quentin found the greasy little man. Still, there was some satisfaction to be had in knowing he could force Gareth onto a proper adventure. Since it had become quite clear that the reporter had not actually thought things would progress this far.

Gareth's lips turned into a thin line, but he seemed to swallow something. Probably the last pieces of his shattered pride, coming to think about it. "Yes sir," he said.

She kept out of the conversation at hand, for the most part, eating her meal in silence while not looking up at either gentleman. She was starting to tire a little and was thinking how glad she was that they paused for a meal. She tried not to yawn, but failed and let one go behind her hand. Claire didn't even bother listening as Quentin set the man to rights.

Quentin was unaware he'd dealt yet another blow to Gareth's pride. If he had been, he might have pointed out the younger man would not be taking such blows if he just stopped trying to weasel his way out of actual work.

"Well, I will assume neither of you has your own provisions for camping," Quentin says moving the subject along. "But bring what you have that you don't mind getting dirty and meet me at the inn in say, two hours."