The tavern was filled with a thick air of stale beer, and although it was the middle of the day, the interior was almost completely dark, with the few windows the building had small and covered in yellow-brown grime.
Inside were slightly over a dozen locals, most already inebriated despite the early hour. A few of them cast glances at Arran as he entered the tavern, but they soon turned their attention back to the drinks in front of them.
Arran looked around the room, then walked up to the tavern keeper. "I'll take a mug of ale and a bottle of brandy," he said, putting down a small silver coin on the counter.
"You a traveler?" the man asked, giving Arran a curious look.
Arran responded with a nod. "I'm looking for someone named Crassus."
The tavern keeper put down a mug of ale and a dirty-looking bottle, then gave Arran an inquisitive look. "Who's asking?"
"Someone with little patience for nosy strangers," Arran replied bluntly.
