POV A poor scapegoat:
Two men sat behind a small table in a dark room filled with smoke from cigars. The heavy smell of alcohol and tobacco tickled their noses. Garbage was lying all over the floor, and the moaning of women and the laughter of drunkards constantly resounded through the room.
"Who the heck wanted to meet in such a place?" The first player with a bald head and a pirate patch over his left eye couldn't help but feel disgusted.
His friend, a blonde player with a scarred face and sharpened pointy teeth, quietly responded, "A scum..."
Without warning, everyone turned silent, and a heavy and dangerous aura made breathing hard.
Two figures hidden under plain, traveling cloaks, their faces obscured by shadows, slowly walked straight to the duo, no one daring to stand in their way as the drunkards cleared the path for them.
One was comically short, and the second was tall and bulky, his steps making loud thuds and the old wooden floor creaking under his boots.
