From the place where the two women have appeared on the beach, a one-sided discussion can be heard. "...so you see, it is better for you to remain aboard ship for now. This is just another man-place, where they go to eat and drink. There might be hunters there, who would like nothing better than to catch you. Here you will be safe. I promise to bring you back some fresh vegetables to snack on."
A second voice says, gently interrupting, "We need to go, master, the ladies are waiting."
"You are right, Sergei," replies the first voice, "let me just grab my staff here." There's a thumping noise and a grunt, "Oops, sorry about that, Kozka. Are you all right?" A rattle of wood on wood, followed by a crash. "Darn! Sorry about that, guys. Let me help you pick that up..."
The second voice comes back, interrupting in a patient tone, "We really need to go, master Bartholomeus. I'm sure they can sort that out when we are on our way. Come now, I'm sure they can fix that while we are gone."
"All right then, if you say so..."
A moment later, two man appear from the same place as the women. They both appear to be in their mid-thirties and fairly tall, but the similarities end there. The one leading the way is red-headed and blue-eyed, dressed in woolen pants and long tunic, with a large carry-on leather satchel. He carries a short sturdy staff bound with iron. He is followed by a dark-haired and bearded man wearing leather armor and a sword at his belt, as well as a dagger. As the red-headed man turns to speak to his companion, the movement brings the bottom of his staff in the path his feet were taking, tangling them and making him collapse in a heap in the sand. The staff goes flying to one side, bouncing off harmlessly on one of the rocks. As he tries to pick himself off, his satchel becomes up-ended and spills most of its content on the sand. The second man collects the staff be remains at a same distance while the first one collects his scattered belongings.
Eventually, though, everything is picked up and stowed back into the bag. "Here, master," says Sergei, handing him his staff back. "Let's walk slowly, this sand looks treacherous and I wouldn't want to twist and ankle."
They catch up with the women as they enter the inn, entering a few moments after they do.