There's an electric ripping noise from beyond the door, as though someone had taken a lightning bold in their hands and was tearing it in half. An eerie white light filtered in through the cracks in the door frame before abruptly cutting off as the door, seemingly on its own, began to open inward. Slowly, an ominous black figure floated in. Eyes the size of saucer plates, glowing bright yellow, scanned the room before falling upon the tavern keeper. It moved through the room, the hem of its robe barely scraping the floor. Two skinny skeletal arms, each tipped with a trio of claws, reached toward the man.

Between them was gripped a pinecone, which it laid on the bar and slid toward the man. "「THE OFFERING, TAVERN MASTER HANS, AS AGREED UPON IN THE ANCIENT SCROLLS OF HOSPITALITY」" It said in a scratchy, electric voice. As though it were talking through a bullhorn that was on its last legs. "「FORGIVE THE QUANTITY. THERE WERE MEN WITH RENDING IMPLEMENTS」"

"「NOW」," He said, "「THE USUAL IF YOU PLEASE」"