Markus Finch stepped through the doorway of the hole in the wall his lanky form casting a shadow across the tavern.

His black and white frayed suit was stained from having been worn for such a long time. Finch had traded most all his belongings for a small home, food and water. Thus the jewelry he once wore and his other clothes all now belonged to other people.

Finch took a seat at the bar a few stools down from a young man.

"Just give me whatever your serving for breakfast." Finch said to the bartender as he placed a Golden coin on the table.