While people may be watching them, the two newcomers left at the door just watched the satyr with a raised eyebrow. Their heads following his path through the tavern, faces expressionless and impossible to read. It was only once he had sheepishly settled that they finally continued with their own entrance.
Skin smooth and pale, eyes deep and intense, Dorian, the shorter of the two, garbed in an immaculate fine suit strode quickly towards the wide staircase with steady strides, only giving the faintest smile of acknowledgement to those he passed.
Clayton, the larger of the pair, was a lot more aloof and casual in his entry. The floorboards groaned under his heavy steps as he strolled slowly to the bar. His eyes flittered around the room, falling more often than not onto the female occupants. Unlike his brother, Clay’s clothes were tattered and simple. Tattoo’s and scars littered his sun kissed skin and a fair beard hung from his chin. Some might say he held a rugged charm.
As Dorian ascended the stairs and disappeared, Clay found an empty jug and filled it from an unmarked barrel. The liquid was a dark golden colour and had little froth or bubbles. Seeing it fill its container the large mans eyes grew wide with excitement. Unable to resist any longer he took a large long drink from the jug before filling it back up and replacing what he had drank.
A sated smile took his face as he gasp for a breath.
Collecting two mugs in one hand he made his way to the Satyr where he sat and poured the drinks. Saying nothing as he stared at the creature, pushing a mug of ale towards him.@reverentsatyr