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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Narrator" data-source="post: 701076" data-attributes="member: 10027">The Old ManA little bell goes off near the door and Mr. Bluffer rises from his duties to go answer it, ordering the wenches back into the kitchen telling them that their curiosity be damned.Upon opening the door, a wee little man, all bent and timid and barely approaching five feet in height, looks up with big, weepy eyes, his old face drawn and haggard, and asks the barman something.The barman thinks for a moment and scratches his unshaven, greying whiskers as he does, indenting his pudgy hands into his pudgy face with the effort, before he clicks and replies. He points you three out and then points upstairs and opens the door for the poor man.The old man nods and smiles and, holding his worn leather hat by the brim with both hands and up high, as if almost as a shield against the world, he walks quietly past you, and slowly upstairs, one step at a time and using the bannister for aid.DM: Clete, you hear a faint knocking on the door to your room.</blockquote>