@Pastel ☠ Psychosis The border town of Mirdauk rested within the forest between the kingdom of Fellholt and Zotopian Empire. It was one of a few towns that rested with a checkpoint only a few miles away. The town however was allied with Fellholt as well as its occupants. Dusk had fallen over the tall evergreens giving the small town and wooden buildings a very homey feeling to all that passed through. Weary travelers, priest on a pilgrimage, maybe even a supply convoy or two. There was a place designated to store Fellholt's checkpoint supply as well. Of course, it was guarded. The focus was upon the lovely tavern with patrons from all walks of life. Some natives, others visiting yet all relished in alcohol and mead with the occasional company of a woman. The lighting was dim in the area supported by a fireplace going on the East wall. The door slowly opened, and the viewed sight was enough to make a number of men give pause to whom walked in. Crest walked into the tavern not looking no one in the eye as he moved silently across the floor. The silence seemed to grow louder with each and every step he took as more and more eyes burned into his robes. They were deep blue and covered his whole body with a white trim to match. Some tried to catch a glance of his face under the hood, yet they were only met with darkness. Magic was outlawed any and everywhere yet that didn't stop a select few from practicing it or Crest who was a Master of Arts. Some even said he was above even that. He sat down at the bar stool, cloak flowing freely behind him. A symbol of a Crecent moon and a tilted blue rose was held to the center probably holding significant importance. For a moment, he was quiet. Taking in the whispers of those behind him. Some things he dared to not even repeat. "One tankard of your strongest ale." He finally spoke up in a mostly distance voice, keeping his gaze low.