<span style="color: teal">Jarvan did not feel like the end of the competition between he and Kell was fair. He could feel the man's stamina wearing out, but would have preferred no interruption to the contest. When Kell got up and left, Jarvan stood. He gathered his belongings, then brought the winnings to the bar.<br/><br/>"Get everyone a drink with this, and with the remainder, buy some food for the hungry ones on the streets. Just because we are in dark times does not mean we should stop being a light for others."<br/><br/>After this, Jarvan stepped outside and pulled out a pipe. There was one thing he clearly remembered from his time with the gypsies, and it was to enjoy life's simple pleasures, one of which was a good pipe on occasion. The particular blend he placed within came from the North, where the climate gave everything a stronger, aromatic sense to it. Leaning against the wall, he used a twig off the ground and the lantern hanging near him to light his pipe. He was able to enjoy this for a few minutes, until he saw the woman from before, the one Kell had glanced at. Jarvan noticed she was with a group of men now, carrying a coffin to the apothecary. Giving up on having a quiet evening, Jarvan pulled out a small cork in order to stuff his pipe and not lose the brew. He didn't like being overly stealthy, but followed the group to the apothecary's, keeping a distance as heard both the undead at the gates, and then the group of men leaving the woman and coffin. Jarvan thought it might be wise to contribute some of the herbs he had gathered over the past few years, and so knocked on the door after finding it latched. He stood there, then thought he heard something unusual from within and was prepared to break in the door if nobody came to answer soon.</span>