Abrahms
One Thousand Club
Stepping back into the cold rain is all the more uncomfortable coming from the warmth of the barracks. Following the instructions Hilia gave, and looking for the sign she spoke of, the group manages to find The Proud Canary. The sign indeed is hard to miss -- even in the dark and damp, somehow the yellow still shines brightly, catching the eye as it swings gently from the occasional breeze.
Two wide windows cover the front wall, facing the street, with a large door attempting to keep the warmth in. Through the windows, it seems fairly calm inside -- at this point in the night, most people are passed out, be it at a tavern or snug in their beds. Entering inside, there's a bar-top along the side wall, currently with one person manning it by themselves -- looks to be a human male of middle age, though none of you are too familiar with human age-ranges to be too sure.
Looking across the few tables, you spot a few that seem to still be wearing similar armor to what the guards had on -- some are quietly talking at tables, a few playing a few hands of cards, and one or two seem to have fallen asleep at their tables, hands wrapped around their mugs. The human tending the bar sits on a stool behind the counter, flipping through what looks like a ledger perhaps, glancing up every so often in case someone wants his attention.
As you enter, a few patrons look towards the door, but either don't care or are too tired to see very far, they all turn back to their respective tasks. The bartender looks up a little longer, waiting to see what will happen with such a strange mix of patrons suddenly entering. He closes the ledger and puts it below the bar before speaking, "Aye ... I'd seen a lot I thought, but this is a new one for me. What can I do for you all this damp and dreary night, eh?" He seems to be trying to keep an eye on all of you at the same time as he talks.
Two wide windows cover the front wall, facing the street, with a large door attempting to keep the warmth in. Through the windows, it seems fairly calm inside -- at this point in the night, most people are passed out, be it at a tavern or snug in their beds. Entering inside, there's a bar-top along the side wall, currently with one person manning it by themselves -- looks to be a human male of middle age, though none of you are too familiar with human age-ranges to be too sure.
Looking across the few tables, you spot a few that seem to still be wearing similar armor to what the guards had on -- some are quietly talking at tables, a few playing a few hands of cards, and one or two seem to have fallen asleep at their tables, hands wrapped around their mugs. The human tending the bar sits on a stool behind the counter, flipping through what looks like a ledger perhaps, glancing up every so often in case someone wants his attention.
As you enter, a few patrons look towards the door, but either don't care or are too tired to see very far, they all turn back to their respective tasks. The bartender looks up a little longer, waiting to see what will happen with such a strange mix of patrons suddenly entering. He closes the ledger and puts it below the bar before speaking, "Aye ... I'd seen a lot I thought, but this is a new one for me. What can I do for you all this damp and dreary night, eh?" He seems to be trying to keep an eye on all of you at the same time as he talks.