A man approached the inn, on foot. He was tall, and his dark green cloak was pulled tightly around him, with the hood up against the rain. He walked as someone used to stealth, a friend of the shadows, but he did not attempt to evade notice now.
He opened the door, and pushed back the hood of his cloak. His hair and eyes were dark. He looked about the room, at the faces that, having looked up at his entrance, now returned their attention to whatever had held it before. He walked to an empty table and sat down.
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