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Salazar Slytherin pops into Diagon Alley from just outside his Father's worn and broken castle. His Madaeze would be expecting a gift.
Salazar looks around at the various vendors until one in particular catches his eye. It is a rather rustic and middle eastern looking set-up, a tented stall with a door. On the door is the oddest design Salazar had ever seen.

He opens the door and enters. Looking around, he notes that this place looks similiar to an inn, so he tries to back out before he could be seen.

[ooc: Amendment: The Founders will each have a single new post for the other patrons to bug them in, okay? Please don't reply to this, say thank ya.]

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The odd tent catches Rowena's attention. Surely the merchants within would have scrolls from their land, spells she had yet to learn.

She opens the door and steps inside - only to find herself in what appears to be a public house.

A portal spell of sorts? Strange.

Godric is not one to turn away from a strange door, though his hand is on the hilt of his sword as he steps through.

It looks like a public house--though none of the kind he's ever been in before. People in strange dress, bright bottles lining the walls.

His hand does not relax on the hilt, though he pushes back the brim of his hat to get a better look.

The symbol on the door of the tent is what catches Hega's attention. It's the first time she's seen this particular tent and that is, in the end, what entices her to enter. There must be some fascinating objects inside, or at least some interesting people to speak with.

She pushes some loose strands of hair out of her face and readjusts the packages in her arms before she enters the tent- and walks straight into the back of an unidentified person, dropping all of her parcels in the process.

Salazar is still looking around in slight amazement (although he does hide it), so he doesn't notice the others coming in after him until he's on his knees with some wretched woman's packages scattered around him.

He grunts, closes his eyes and brings himself back to his feet.

"Woman-" He glares down his nose at Helga, "Why were you not looking ahead of you? Your packages have narrowly missed giving me a serious head wound." He advances to her, rising up taller, his upper body leaning toward her menacingly, his eyebrow arched almost to a point.

Rowena had started to help the other woman pick up her things as the gentleman got back to his feet.

"From the number of parcels, the lady's height, and other considerations, t'would have been hard for her to have seen you. Also, considering that we are standing in the entrance of a rather busy establishment, such an interaction was bound to occur sooner than later."

Godric picks up parcels as well and says as he hands them over, "Shall I guess, then, that the three of you are unknown to this place as well? It's far larger than the tent where I came through the door."

Helga takes a faltering step backwards, her cheeks turning a rosey red. "I can only apologise profusely for any injury I may have caused you Sir."

She takes her parcels from Godric and Rowena. "Thank you. And you are correct in your assumption Sir. I at least have not been here before."

Salazar steps off a little and shakes his head, appraising the other two. He shrugs Helga off, not looking at her.

"Never do it again." He runs a hand over his locket.

"I entered through a tent as well. Perhaps you were in Diagon Alley?"

"As did I. Though whoever set up said tent should post a sign for their portal, else others would make the same misjudgement."

"I think," Godric says dryly, "that not having the sign was intentional."

His hand has relaxed on his sword somewhat, but he is still watching the other patrons of the pub closely.

"Why would they not wish to inform us of our location?" she asks with a frown.

"It's rather rude to send a person somewhere without informing them first."

Salazar backs off a few steps more, perturbed that he wasn't being included in their conversation. He inspects his finely manicured nails.

"Probably some non-magical being toying with the idea that he is a great wizard. Or perhaps a child trying a new spell."

"Perhaps. Though how either of those would manage to set such a spell without being caught is hard to believe."

She looks around the room again. "Should we move to a table, or return to the market? The longer we stand here, the more likely we would be caught in another collision."

"We are at an inn, there is food," Godric gestures to a table, "perhaps we should sit and eat.

"And perhaps try to figure out what sort of spell brought us here. The others don't seem particularly disturbed."

"Perhaps the others are used to being transported without prior warning..."

She nods, but doesn't go to the table.

"Might I know who I am to be dining with first?"

Salazar is leaning against a chair at the table Godric is motioning too, but he also does not sit at it.

"Yes. Let's have some courtesy and introduce ourselves. Perhaps you all have heard of the long lineage of Slytherin? I am the last of the Sons of Slytherin." He may not have much to his name, but he does have that.

"Indeed?" At his nod, she continues. "In which case I have heard of you from my brother, Fearn Ravenclaw. Though I would imagine he would say little to anyone of his sister Rowena."

At this Godric bows. "He has, and all impressive.

"If you are the Son of Slytherin called Salazar then I know your reputation as well.

"I'm Godric Gryffindor." He looks expectantly at the blonde woman for her name.

She blinks several times, her cheeks growing red again, and she almost drops her parcels once more.

"But of course I've heard of you. All three of you. You are spoken of very highly by those who know you.

I'm... I'm Helga Hufflepuff. It's an honour to meet you."

Salazar nods approvingly at Godric Gryffindor.

"Yes. I am called Salazar. I of course have heard of your fine house. Pure bloods all. Very fine."

He acknowledges Rowena with a slight incline of his head. "Yes. Your brother. He's taken a liking to some of the young people that congregate in my castle, hasn't he?"

"Most likely, though I could not say for certain. His interests and mine... are decidedly different."

Godric pulls out chairs for the ladies and waits for them to sit. "Young people congregating?" he asks Salazar. "That's good. These are dangerous times."

Helga sits, and gives Godric a smile of thanks.

"Indeed. As I'm sure you've heard, Wendelin Wimple has been just been tried for the third time in as many months."

Salazar sits and folds his arms in front of his chest, frowing. "Wendelin is foolish. She should not be encouraging that type of behavior."

He looks around cautiously.

"I let them use my castle for their pathetic little meetings because I wish for my family to survive past their forties, unlike my uncles. Out in the open, away from the spells I've cast, they are in great danger from those who would drive them into permanent hiding."

"That such things are happening, and with greater frequency, does give rise to fear and panic." Stated plainly as she takes the seat, a nod of thanks to Gryffindor.

"But isolation can not be the answer. If anything, it would make matters worse - lack of communication, knowledge unshared, lost - we would wind up destroying our heritage as surely as any trial ever would."