The rain came heavily throughout the day, and seemed as if it would carry well on into the night. That was the typical night as of late... the coin of many men, and women as of late had fallen into the coffer's of the "Witch's Tit", and it's owner Bathis Munen. The middle aged, portly man ran a calloused hand through his thinning hair, as he looked out across his tavern from behind the bar. He was certainly doing well for himself on account of the rain.
"Coin in the coffers, from a drink well offered." Bathis chuckled, and came from behind the bar, leaving the lads to tend to the patrons at the counter. Seeing his waitresses gliding through the crowds, Bathis coudl almost hear the coins falling into his purse like the rain colliding with the tavern's roof. 'Gonna be a fine night, it is.' He mused silently, as he continued through the crowd. It was then he spotted a group of adventurers.
His business senses began to tingle, for if anyone had money to spend... it was these sort of folks these days. "Ho there, friends. Can I get one of the lasses to fetch you all a fine flagon of the best ale south of the Crystal Cliffs?" Bathis offered with a friendly smile as he almost perched himself on the corner of the table.
The four men turned to the Dwarf, and nodded. The leader dressed in a fine suit of chain, then leaned forward towards Bathis "And might you be so friendly as to tell us news of the realm in this part? There's terrible talk of unrest in the East... that some prophecy is being stirred that speaks of calamity coming anew."
Waving his hand dismissively, Bathis shook his head "Words of nonsense, or superstition from those poor sods who've renounced the Cohn. They're empty words at best. Words to be filled with fine food, drink, and the moans of a spirited whore!" he chuckled once more, and nudged the man with a fist, before turning to call a waitress.