Attius was quietly sitting at the bar eating his stew and listening in on the conversations happening around.  From the 'courier' that entered with her delivery. Probably a spy of some sort or maybe a mercenary, with the way she was eyeballing everyone and  looked ready to fight at a moments notice. One of the others that entered was a odd sort of noble with a familiar nothing of interest regarding him. 

He ignored the fight that broke out since it wasn't worth his attention. Though it did reveal that their was a royal guard here. Perhaps he should talk to him later about the cults activity? Something to think about at least. For now he would enjoy his stew and ale. Wasn't that bad actually, most of the time finding decent food far from one of the capitals was difficult. Atticus suddenly felt colder and smelt wine. All he had wanted to do was enjoy his damn meal and plan his next. But no, some damn familiar decided to throw wine all over him. Turning around faced the group that had the familiar with them. 

Standing up he from his chair, Atticus approached the group, anger shown clearly on his face. Slamming his fist into the table, spilling one of drinks. "Control your damn familiar, [i]Mage[/i]. Your lucky I'm one of the nicer hunters others in my order wouldn't accept this slight." He said with contempt in his voice.