[Saurreg]

The Silvan swung open the oaken door of the tavern and stepped in the soothing embrace of warm dry air. The establishment was crowded with members of various races and came in different shapes and sizes. All were engaged in merry banther and feasting. The aroma of fresh confectionery, scent of strong steaming beverages and musky odor of tobacco smoke lingered invitingly in the air. Ascasir Culcollo smiled wiry to himself and made his way towards the bar through occupied tables and chairs.

Ascasir sat himself on a bar stool, removed the hood of his dark grey travellers cloak and called out aloud,

"Innkeeper! I say innkeeper! Would you be so kind as to provide this wayfarer some simple sustenance so that he might be able to break his fast?"