"Hey! You're not allowed in here!" A big man with huge rough hands stops you. He's tall to the point where his graying hair brushes the top of the doorframe, which he subconciously ducks beneath. His face is scarred quite severely, causing you to suspect he was at one time part of the military. A well used pipe wisping smoke is clenched between his back teeth and he talks around it easily. "You're new in town, aren't you?" The man says, softening a little. He leans against the doorframe, fist on hip, a crooked smile pulling at his scarred face. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, kid. But, well, you never know. The name's Draven; I'm the owner of this here establishment." He studies you curiously. "Have you gone to see the Missus yet?" He indicates one of the far tables where the woman you saw upon entering is scribbling furiously in the book open before her. A faint blue glow edges her features, but you can't get a very good look at her face from here. |
| You say: "Yes, I have." "No, I haven't." |