As you Samael enters the tavern, the large canvas map immediately catches his eye. The balding bartender furrows his brow. 

“A meal or a drink?”

In the tavern, there’s a group of five passing a grimy coin around. At the bar, a chain mail clad nun sits with an ale in hand. 

(The Frankie Group, and Maeve.)

"how much can a silver piece and 4 coppers grant me? it is all i have."

The bartender snorts. 

“Some leftovers and a cup of ale. That’s all. If you need money, you may consider talking to some of those folks over there. They be looking for treasure out there.”

"thank you, good tender." he pays, and will make his way to the group spoken of by the time he finishes his somewhat-meal, if they have not left already.

Just finishing up, Horatio smiles as the newcomer approaches. "Ah, another for our little venture, I presume? My, but word gets around quickly in this quaint space. Tell me, if you will, a little about yourself, if you would like to be considered, that is."

"I am samael, I have come here with naught but my name, my clothes, and the scars that bind me. do you require assistance?"

Amused, Horatio continues. "Well samael, as you will shortly discover, this town is abuzz with all sorts of intriguing rumors, meant to ensnare and entangle waybound adventurers in labyrinthine plots with promises of great reward. We are no different. A man has gone missing - a man whose most recent citings insinuated that he had found a rather large cache of old coin in the form of an abandoned dragon's lair. We seek to find this lair, claim it for our own, and split the proceeds evenly, hopefully to become filthy rich in the process. Care to join?"

"I will." samael unflinchingly declares. "the fires of the flights are a better fate to suffer than the fires below that sought my life." a glow, small but visible, is seen in his eyes. "thus i swear to use all my skills and arts to ensure the success."

A shadowy figure rides into town, they’re 6’0 in frame and shrouded in dark studded leather armour, a black cloak and black clothes, they’re horse matches they’re attire and the only thing that show a real difference is they’re ocean blue eyes and the two scars that cross their face making an X (which is how you can tell they are a werewolf) they slip into be tavern, saying nothing and keeping quiet as they look around the tavern, before they head towards the bar counter. “I’ll have some meat stew and a glass of spiced wine.” They say sombrely as they lay a gold coin on the table, being a renowned monster hunter for clan lycan and being known by only one name WARKILLER; they’re paid quiet well for the monsters they slay for towns and how many innocents they save, sitting down at the bar counter and waits patiently to be served, keeping the mystery of who they are under that hood. 

The stocky barkeep stifles a laugh. He pours a glass of wine for Gunhilda and hands her a bowl of stew.

”You look like you would be fun at parties.”

The barkeep give Gunhilda nine silver in change, as the meal only costed one silver.

Sliding the money from the counter into her coin sack, she throws the bartender a light smirk under her hood “Depends what type of parties, if you’re familiar with mine then I’m tons of fun.” She said lowly but charismatically “I heard this town is filled with the things that go bump in the night, don’t suppose you know where I’ll find a party like that?”

At this point, a trio enters the tavern, lead by a human that sticks out like a sore thumb among the crowd. Properly groomed black hair slicked back, light leather armor with decorative finishing, a cloak no traveler would pay that much for. The two swords at his hip don't look like they are just there for show though, neither do the callouses on his palms. Despite carrying no coat of arms, it's plain to see that he probably does not belong in a bar like this.

As a note, a plainly dressed human woman trails behind him and a bright eyed, younger elf is carrying... a lot of luggage. (That's Isabella and Efritta. Saville probably slipped off to get a feel of the town.)

The human sniffs the air with a mild sense of curiosity. After hesitating for a moment, he approaches the bartender, trying and somewhat failing to not look pompous. "Er, good evening sir. I'll have some ale." He places a gold coin on the counter. His eyes look to the plainly dressed woman, as if saying 'is this right?'

“Are you part of a travelling circus?” Gunhilda asks simply under her breath as he takes a spoonful of stew and eats it under her hood, she won’t remove it as she has to many enemies and she’s easily recognised, when she’s a bit more rested she’ll remove it because even she wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of her 

The human looks over and makes a face. "No, and before you ask I am not hiring any jesters at the moment either so I'm afraid you're out of luck for employment."

That joke is water off a duck’s back, people like this gentleman is why she wears the hood, they’d probably tremble at the sights of a blood hunter, let alone that whose a werewolf and is a renowned monster hunter, they wouldn’t be the first though they hated and feared her, sure she’d rid them of their terrible beast and sure they’ll pay her but she was a lycanthrope and that’s still a monster in their eyes. “Then you’re an aristocrat, who do you serve a pearly queen or a pearly king?”

"Oh, not a jester then. Just a rude disgrace to whomever you represent? Learn some manners, woman. I am a knight errant, so as of right now, neither."

“Well you know what they say, respect is earned not given.” She counters, before pulling herself up from her bowl of stew and tilts her head “But perhaps you can change my mind and you can earn it from me, what ideals do you hold?” She adds, she holds respect for knights as they serve the light and fend off beasts, so are very useful in a pinch, but her personality is very rough around the edges till you get to know her and she reveals more about herself as the journey continues.

The bartender raises his eyebrow as he accepts Fallion's coin. However, this time he doesn't give back any change. The barkeep pours an ale for the knight as he speaks.

"Are you a Dumazer? Never thought to see one leave their manor."

He helps Efritta carry the luggage up to Fallion's room. 

He rubs the bridge of his nose and waves the bartender away. "If that's how it seems then take it as such. It is unimportant."

He then responds to the rude woman who seems to have a bone to pick with him. "As for you, woman. Respect is deserved by all people regardless of station. If you live your life disrespecting those above your station and spouting empty platitudes, then you've lived a petty life. And why should I speak of ideals to someone with absolutely no manners or the basic decency to respect a stranger?"

He takes his ale and tries it. Finding nothing too wrong with it other than the slightly watered down taste, he takes a big gulp. How did he end up in this situation sober, he questions himself.

As this is going on, Isabella taps Fallion on the shoulder. She says, "Fallion, we just got here. Why don't we just sit down and relax?"