Rapscallion enters Inn....

[Rapscallion]

Walks up to the bar, sits. Says "I've have a pint of your strongest ale." to bartender.

[Dracofrost]

The bartender looks up and shakes her head.
"If you're already having trouble speaking, our strongest is probably a bit much for you. Here, have a beer list, I'll be back with you in a minute."
She slides him a folded papyrus, old and worn but still readable, written in several different common trade languages, listing all of the various beers and other light alcoholic beverages the house serves.
A glance at it reveals that the place serves just about everything imaginable, from Egnibair fire ale, genuine Aunoth Spirits, Yotungan Kefir, Eismun Stout, to things you've never even heard of...
Before he can look up, she's off across the bar refilling other's glasses.

The bar itself is dark, and business is slow right now, mostly consisting of old regulars, and dark mysterious strangers sitting in corners, muttering and smoking foul weeds. The scents of alcohol, sweat, and smoke permeate the place, a familiar miasma of decay. One hooded man in the corner seems to be staring straight at the newcomer at the bar.

After a moment the bartender returned, smiled and spoke.
"If you can pronounce the name clearly, you can have whatever ya like. So, what'll it be?"

[Rapscallion]

Rapscallion turns slowly to the bartender and says, "Some Eismun Stout will be fine, a small one though. I don't want to get more drunk than I already am.... also, who is that hooded figure in the dark corner over there??"

[Dracofrost]

She slides him one of the smaller mugs, filled with a dark, dark brown and strong smelling ale, and looks over at the stranger.

"I don't know his name... he's an odd one. Just started showing up a few months back, never talks to anyone, always sits alone in a corner, always drinks the same expensive whiskey, nurses one glass all night long, then leaves." she said, shrugging and walking off to attend to other customers.

Meanwhile, the stranger continued to stare, one eye gleaming red in the shadows of his hood. It must have been a reflection from the fire. Yes, yes, that was it. People's eyes don't just glow red on their own, right? That would be creepy.

[Rapscallion]

Rapscallion politely raises his mug to the hooded figure as if in a silent toast. He finishes off the drink in an instant. He looks to his right to see who is there next to him.

[Dracofrost]

The stranger didn't seem to react at all, merely continuing to stare as before. It's eerie...

To Rapscallion's right, he sees a haggard looking bum sitting there at the bar, dressed in little more than rags and smelling like he hasn't changed them in a few weeks. He nurses a dirty mug full of some unknown ale. The haggard man sighs, shakes his head, and says to no on in particular "Times are tough..."

[Rapscallion]

Rapscallion turns to the haggard and says, "That's what the ale is for, old man. But please; speak your mind."