Shiki sat at the bar. Head down, nursing a pint. He reeked of stale beer, having been sat at the bar for most of the day. Putting coins on the counter every time his glass ran empty. 
He let out a slight burp as he finished his latest pint. He slid the empty glass closer to the barman. He slid a couple coins over as well. Motioning with his hand for another. Shiki McNamara’s hair and robes were disheveled. Giving him the appearance of just another drunk. To the untrained observer, he looked like a bum who had given up on life. However, if you really knew what you were looking for, you might be able to notice, maybe Shiki wasn’t as drunk as he let on. If you were exceptionally sharp you might even notice he eyes carefully surveying everyone as the entered, and his careful listening of each conversation. You might even catch a glimpse of throwing knife hidden within the folds of his robes.