Flint emerged from the back rooms, exchanging a small nod with the waitress as she passed by. He had arrived the night before, and given its low price and it was the place he heard he was to come, he had rented a key. The bed hadn’t been so comfortable, but it was a roof over his head.

His normal action would usually be to sweep his eyes around the room, but before anything else, his eyes went to a man with pale skin and paler hair. A High Aldonian, it would seem. And to see him here was more than surprising. Then it went to the other two oddities, at the far table. Unusual for an inn, for a table to be empty, but it made it an apt choice for a barricade. Maybe that’s why the girl and the old man were sitting there. 

Skirting around the other patrons, he moved towards the table - but not obviously. Instead, he went for the window nearby. Turning his back to the wall and leaning against it, his back was now guarded. He lifted his leg so that his boot created a triangle out of the wall and the floor, in the event he needed to deliver a swift kick. He crossed his arms. Then he began  scanning the small crowd for anything out of the ordinary, though he didn’t pick up on anything just yet.