entering the Inn

(IC)
 A young man, in bright blue and brown leathers with a blue trimmed burnt orange cloak on his shoulders walks into the inn, it is his first time here. He is of middle height, with and lean and hungry look about him, lean, yet not thin and his muscles are of the sinewy type, for he is wiry and strong for a youth of his size and age. His skin is hardened from work outside, and lightly tanned from the same reason. Both his clothes and equipment appear, perhaps a bit worse from the wear and tear of the road, but they are very well cared for. A bow and a quiver of arrows is on his back, the bow lightly gleams a bit from the light cover of oil over it and the unstrung string which protect if from the weather; the sword at his side, is long, and seems like a standard weapon of the sort, yet it to shows care in it’s keeping. He has a smile on his young handsome face as he looks about the inn’s main room, and to those close to him, they hear him humming and half singing a somewhat pleasant, enjoyable tune which sounds familiar, but they cannot seem to place. A few heads turn to look over this young new “intruder” who comes amidst they the older residents of this place. To them he appears to offer no danger or trouble, so they just as quickly turn back to their conversations or drinks.
   His eyes find the bar and the innkeeper/bartender; he moves towards it, with an almost easy grace that shows the Half-Elven blood that course through his veins. With a smile he asks if they have any Mulled Mead . . .

[miltonyorkcastle]

*Cole stumbles out of his room, still buckling on his studded leather.  He scans the crowd and rubs the sleep out of his eyes.  When his eyes roam over to Yastin, he notices someone he doesn't recognize.  A grin immediately appears on his face, and he pulls out a worn deck of Creature cards.  He saunters over to the young fellow, shuffling the deck in his left hand, and offers his right hand to shake.

"'Ello, mate!  Care fer a li'l game o' cards?"

Turning around, he notices him fingering the deck, a slight frown comes upon the young man's face; "sorry my friend, I don't play the game, if'n you were talkin' about a normal game of cards, I might be persuaded to join ya . . . . but that game, sorry, nut no."  

[miltonyorkcastle]

"*Squints and purses his lips* Ahh well, mate.  *suddenly grins and winks* Yer loss.  Perhaps, then, ye hev sumthin' else fer an ole' merc te do?  What say ye?  Ye need an escort, mebbe?  Perhaps a little information?  Fer a little gold, see, I'll do anything short o' killin' me own mother...  who's already dead *smirks*"

[miltonyorkcastle]

*Cole's grin shows slightly yellowed teeth, while his face is a series of crags and hills overgrown with rusty colored grass.  You're surprised, with the number of scars that careen across his face, that he isn't missing any teeth.  His hair is hacked off at the neck, but is otherwise uncut, flinging itself into his face until he whips his head back to laugh.  His eyes are the color of coal, with a piercing quality that betrays an intelligence not otherwise assumed.  You feel them sizing you up even as you decline his offer to play cards*

[freemen2]

*Lokri overhears their conversation and manages to walk without falling on his beard to them* Naw lad *belches* dat be e goot fighten lad dat be *tries to remember what he was saying* Oh aye dat be e got fighten lad te be haven 't yer side but joost be maken suure he donna be waren spectacles 'n combat *raises mug to down the ale in it, realises it's empty and curses*  Who stole me ale! *grumbles all the way to the bartender, stumbling along*