The wooden stairs creaked as someone ascended the steps. Two NPC guards in sweat-drenched uniforms walked into the cafe.
"Captain Harley! You must be exhausted from today," greeted the owner of the cafe. He was an African man in his forties who greeted the elder of the two guards as soon as they walked in. "Come sit down and have a drink."
"Solo, did anything happen here last night?" asked Captain Harley in a tired voice. The Caucasian man who was referred to as Captain Harley seemed to be around 50 years old, a corporal near retirement age.
"Thanks to y'all guard soldiers, everything is fine here. As a token of my appreciation, let me get you a drink, on the house. Captain Harley, this is one of the best from my cellar…"
"Harley?"
