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Snippet #2586791

located in The Black Ale Tavern, a part of The First Empire, one of the many universes on RPG.

The Black Ale Tavern

A filthy place full of filthy business. Funny, how no one buys anything yet they don't close down...

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Mavik paused, watching the man on the bar. Pale lashes, long and thick as a girl's veiled his eyes for a moment. Then he turned and left the stifling, fetid heat of the common room. At least he was no longer cold, he thought, as sweat began to slick his skin under the heavy cloak. He paced the length of the hall in no hurry, to the door that stood ajar for him.

He had much to offer the White-Bloods. His quiet reputation as a secret keeper. To some, his reputation as a collector of secrets. Agon would never rise again, but it lived on in those who remembered it. Like Mavik. He flexed his hands, the joints still stiff from the cold, and stepped through the door.

The room beyond had little light, small and close, the windows shuttered. He shook back his cloak from his shoulders to show he was unarmed. Which was not strictly true.