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. [size=+2]Michio[/size] Silently, a cloaked figure in the corner, watched the conversation in silence. The man's eye pierced through the haze of drunken fools, and whore's warming the hearts, and purses of those who'd they ply their trade to. The smell, and sound of it all made him nauseous. Taking another drink from his small clay cup, the man turned to his companion, "This land is filled with nothing but fools hungry for simplicity, alcohol, or the exhale of wenches, and whores. I think your information was wrong Fumino." He then set his cup down, and folded his arms, with his sword hand, rested comfortably against the hilt of his katana. "Who where would even know their own King, much less the Daisho... Once morning comes, we will head farther west. We'll try another one of these.... 'taverns'" he almost spat the word out ", and ask about the crimson wanderer there." Standing to his feet, Michio began towards the bar, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning he saw one of the adventurers had stood. "Heard you talking over there in the corner with your friend, and I must say friend... I don't quite like the words or tone you've been using." Hood blocking his face from sight save for the smile that crossed his lips, Michio simply responded with "Then forgive me. That is what you're taught isn't it? From the Cohn?" "What makes you think I follow the Cohn? Perhaps I'm just a dedicated citizen of Kavoch, who doesn't like home grown folk insulting their country." Folding his arms once more, Michio simply shook his head. "I can tell you follow the Cohn, by the slight bend you've got in your knees... the constantly kneeling before your master. One day you'll kneel at the altar, to find yourself unable to rise.... and this isn't my country." Michio finished, raising his head enough to stare at the man with his eye. At that moment, the entire tavern had quieted, with all their eyes focused on the situation... most had a hand on their blades, and those that didn't, were contemplating just how good a weapon a plate, or mug was.