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Message: <blockquote data-quote="MummyKitty" data-source="post: 2812876" data-attributes="member: 36179">As the group takes a table and continues their banter, the door to the Golden Lion swings open and a man enters.  He's dressed in the typical non-descript, shabby clothes that a thousand Sanctans wear, and has a scarf wrapped over most of his face.  He quickly looks about with half-closed eyes and motions to the woman keeping the bar and points at the kitchen.  She looks at the man, then at the kitchen, a bit quizzically.  As if in answer to the man's gestures the cook comes out of the kitchen.  The man points at the cook, then at himself then at the other door behind the bar."Grenelde," says the cook.  "Watch the place for a moment."  He goes to the door, pulls out a key and opens it, and both men go inside.A few minutes later, they come out of the door, the man with the scarf walking quickly to leave the tavern.  The cook's face is hard to read in the dim light.  Grenelde moves toward him to say something but he shakes his head a little and murmers something that's hard to hear from your table, but this seems to satisfy her curiousity and she goes back to polishing the bar with her dirty rag.  The cook returns to his duties in the kitchen, but you can see him looking out through a small window in the swinging door.Almost immediately after the man with the scarf leaves, a small group of three men enters the bar.  Two of the men are supporting another man who appears to be unconsious and unable to walk by himself.  All three appear to be ordinary, run-of-the-mill sell-swords, wearing their weapons in the open with the slight jingle of metal betraying the armor they wear under their cloaks.  One of the caravan drivers at the other table looks up at the commotion and one of the men says to the unconsious man, "C'mon Ibus.  Upsidaisie.  Cap'n got a room for you to sleep it off."  The unconsious man's head rolls around and he moans slightly.  As the men carry their burden up the stairs you notice that all three have blackish-green mud spattered on their clothes and boots (in fact, you can smell them from your table after they pass).  And, the unconsious man looked like he had a red stain on his shirt.  It was hard to tell for sure, it could have been wine... but it just as easily could have been blood.The men drag their fellow up the stairs and you can hear them thumping around for a bit, then, silence.  The caravan drivers at the other table go back to their conversation, for them, these two events seem like typical late night activities in Sanctuary...</blockquote>

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