You turn your attentions back to your meals and small talk. After awhile, Bart stops calling out for ales. He is slumped down in his chair, chin resting on his chest. He doesn't appear to be sleeping, but from the looks of him, it probably isn't to far in coming.
Irene heads to his table and clears up his empties. She inquires to his condition, to which she gets a gruff, incoherent reply. Bart rises unsteadily to his feet, knocking his chair over, and shambles toward the exit.
As he reaches the door, three members of the King's Guard make there way inside. They hardly give the one-eyed drunk a glance as Bart wobbles outside. The door closes shut behind him.
The guards make their way to a nearby table and take seats. Irene is quick to make her way to their table and take their orders.
A few minutes later, the guards are eating and drinking. Snippets of their talk can be heard by the party:
Talk of Orcs stealing livestock and waylaying travelers to the North.
Talk of the growing hostilities between the Goblins and Kobolds.
Talk of Goblin war parties spotted in the area.
With everything you have seen and heard so far since arriving, it seems that Morgansfort is indeed a place of death and danger.