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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Richard Rawen" data-source="post: 4865936" data-attributes="member: 28817">Without fanfare a human man enters the Inn dressed in work-leathers much stained with soot and spark burns.  He carries a peace-bonded bastard-sword by it's scabard in his off hand.The tall human is through the door and announcing himself at the appointed location before many have time to notice."Richard Rawen, Fighter and journeyman-Smith," he steps down into the common area before adding, "wouldn't mind a bit of diversion, some daring do, a way to keep my sword arm in practice?" He smiles with his inquiry, looking around with a hopeful search for someone in need of a blade...Then he's seated and accepting a tall, cold Stout and hard-roll sandwhich not so long after that.He would marvel at the efficiency of Joe and his staff, but he's been around long enough to just give a smiling nod to the mysterious barkeep and dig in.</blockquote>