Alsy gives up on asking every passer by. She feels like she is iritating some and outright bugging others.
Walking the docks she comes upon an establishment. old and dilapidated, But well lived in and seemingly upkept to the minimum one could be asked.
The sign atop the door gives the buissness name
“The sinking feeling tavern”
A “no vacancy” sign hangs underneath, dangling by a single hook. It appears to not have been touched in a long time.
Feeling thirsty alsy figures its worth a try.
She opens the crooked and creeky door. The doorknob polished smooth from years of callused hands.
As soon as she passes the doors threshold alsy is taken aback by the brazen stench of pipe tobacco and hobbling herb. The air a dark haze of smoke and dim lighting.
Upon entering the room alsy is glared at by a few patrons hunched over there drinks. Clearly agrivated by the bright light of the doorway. “Close the door ya git. Your letting the smoke out!” One patron yells.
Alsy complies as the bartender peeks up from his book for a moment to see what the comotion was. Just as quickly dipping back down to his pages.
Alsy slowly approached the bar feeling the glares of the taverns regulars. Clearly not used to seeing young women in here.
Once at the bar alsy places the wanted poster off to the side. Wanting something to drink before she starts asking questions.
She digs out a few silver as the barkeep raises a finger, as if to say “one moment” he visibly speeds up his reading until he ends the page. Slamming the book shut as if to say “what?”
“Welcome to the sinkin feeling lass. The drink of the day is diluted swill from last years stock. I’m waiting on a new batch, and I ain’t got no fancy wines” he said with an ease only years of repetence could allow.
Alsy placed 2 silver on the counter and tapped her index and middle finger twice to indicate she wanted a glass