half an hour later...
In a tavern hall somewhere in the outer ring of the capital. The place was alive with noise, laughter, drunken chatter, and the clinking of mugs echoed against the walls.
The wooden tavern structure was darkened by years of smoke and spilled ale. The air was thick with the scent of cheap alcohol and roasted meat, creating an environment both lively and suffocating.
A cloaked figure stood in front of the main counter. His presence blended oddly into the chaos around him.
"This is the payment for the booze," the man said before passing a single bronze coin to the man across the counter. The tavern owner looked intently at the coin for a few seconds before picking it up.
The cloaked man left the tavern after paying without looking back. blending into the crowd.
Meanwhile, the tavern owner engaged with new customers for a few minutes before another man came up beside him and started helping him.
