You walk into the Salty Sprite and the wooden swing doors creak slightly as you pass. The hardwood floors are beaten and soft underboot frmo many many people walking on them. The dark wood bar runs the length of the one wall. A portly woman in her 50s stands alert at the helm, while a small underfed boy rushing behind her gathering items under the bar.
The feasthall is completely empty, except for three men. Two armored swordsmen standing guard near a seated third. The man in the chair is wearing purple and gray finerys. Crushed velvet and cotton tunic with tight shortpants with gray hose. Glass-polished black shoes with gold buckles finish off his Noble marked clothes. He sips from his small glass with one hand, and a fig in the other. The man's long blonde hair falls around his face as he looks at you. as you pass his position and approach the bar, he seems to evaluate you each as you speak to the portly woman behind the bar.
Ulrich:
Demon:
Edgar:
Drex:
Cuon:
Marcus appears inside the door and looks to the seated man. With a slight pause, Marcus turns to you all and clears his throat.
"Lets go outside." The seated man eats another date as his other hand holds up the glass. The mousy boy hurries over to him and pours him more liquor.