Rain is equality. Water falls from the sky lightly and obscures vision or quick, too hard to passively allow into one's eye. Hoods raised and heads lowered. Some looked toward the feet more, but all turned their gazes downward. Truer here than in the southern lands where hands accompanied lords to cover them at the chance of tumultuous weather. Shi'mon liked the village for this truth. Guards waved him passed without a second glance, either too confident or simply trusting. He fell in amongst others seeking shelter from the rain. Several made their way toward a sturdy building made of barrel-like lumber. Blackened iron lined the door, glistening as Shi'mon followed the others and approached. A few ahead of him swung open the doors and proclaimed, "Your strongest drink, barkeep! Gods are with me tonight, look at them ladies..."

Lowering his hood along with the men, Shi'mon slipped behind them. He watched the rowdy lot approach the bar as a man apparently none too happy sat down several glasses. The bartender glanced back to a woman both younger and less aware of the men and snapped. "Drunkards your type, missy? I think not." Lips pursed, the man looked back to the bar and observed Shi'mon. Stepping aback, he grunted, "You with those lot?" Shi'mon paid the men a hard look. The loudest caught a curvy waitress and pulled her onto his lap. 
 
Did his impression in Merryspring mean much? Shi'mon sighed, "... Yes." 

The bartender nodded and silently poured the drink. When the glass slid forward, he looked at Shi'mon strangely. Swallowing the building shame in his gut, the elf passed by the boisterous lot then paused. He stood beside one, close enough to seem related, but not so much they stared. Their quickly emptying tankards only helped. 

Among a group Shi'mon felt free to observe. Men and women collected in around tables and at the bar mostly in groups. Individuals neared others, like he had, but seemingly for intimacy rather than safety. He brought his glass to his lips and sipped his drink before spotting the herald of this journey. Shi'mon tightened his lips and audibly exhaled. The men gawked at him, one still cupping a waitress's breast. Instinctively, the elf raised his cup summoned a hearty grunt. Three more followed, tankards held high with a cheer. Feigning a smile, Shi'mon observed the Watcher. [I]Watching the Watcher. Cute.[/I] The man haggard man, accustomed to adventure according to his garb, spoke with a couple others. A young man with some object the Watcher continuously glanced and two shorter, armoured men -- dwarves? Enjoy the rain-- surrounded him. Shi'mon remained a while longer until the waitress started to moan and the seedy collected about. 

The elf approached the table with his head lowered. A heart slam, like falling flesh called out. Shi'mon placed a hand on the hilt of his short-sword at his hip and turned. Calm settled over him when he spotted the dwarf at the bar. By the looks of the deer, a hunter, and by the looks of the bartender, a welcomed trade. After a second glance he decided the dwarf must be a skilled hunter and his opinion of the inn raised markedly. 

Finally, Shi'mon walked up toward the table behind the young man. The younger placed a hand on a bundle and looked backward, perhaps weary. The taller of the dwarves sized him up. Apparently pleasant company, Shi'mon decided, and apparently a job better kept secret. 

"An... interesting locale. Is my company still welcomed, sir?" Shi'mon asked, brow arched as he gestured to an empty chair.