Faeril looked around the quarrem, with his lip instinctively curling. This was a hive where the rats of the city scurried about and hoped they wouldn’t be noticed by the guards. They wouldn’t receive any trouble from the law here. That long arm would only come down here occasionally to shake the nests or if the rats bit someone above their station. Still, this was what they would have to work with if they wanted to get the alcohol required to soothe the innkeep. Faeril kept his hood up and his back to the wall of the room that Raddek had entered. They didn’t want to attract the attention of anyone shilling broken wares or false powers. 

“Hello my friends…..”

Faeril’s eyes beseeched the heavens as the fortune teller immediately started begging for coppers. Gods above, it was like he could smell that they had some money on them. The fortune teller was right to speak to them of course. There was at least one of them who wouldn’t be able to resist such wriggling worm on a shiny hook. 

As if on cue, Lorcan opened his mouth. Faeril sighed as he watched the giant man walked over to the fortune teller, spouting off some nonsense about how the fortune teller was probably fake. Which was obvious to everyone with a pair of eyes. A real fortune teller wouldn’t be trapped in this hovel. It was as if the giant couldn't help himself. There was some desperate need for him to run his mouth and prove how smart and intelligent he was too the rest of the world at large. At every available opportunity. Still, it wouldn’t do them any good if the giant fool was shivved in front of them. 

Faeril pulled his crossbow into his hands, and kept a careful eye out. Blood here would summon more rats.

[hider=Roll] Perception: 6 + 1 for 7 [/hider]