<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/a/ad/Dorakoch.png/383px-Dorakoch.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Dora Koch<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>None<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 11th, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Afternoon<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Der Wafflehaus<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Open<br/><hr/><br/>Her face fell a little bit when he said he didn’t have any white man money, and then she tilted her head, considering.  Mama wasn’t about to part with free vittles for no one, though she occasionally let a cup of tea or coffee slide… for a regular.<br/><br/>“We can get you something to drink,” she promised, smiling easily.  She waved him in, putting him at a table not so close to Clyde.  Clyde smelled enough that she doubted Walker would have minded even if he wasn’t uncivil.<br/><br/>The rest of the patrons noted him with the same interest he regarded them.  Red men were unusual anywhere in Gomorra, but Gomorra had men of every color.  Some seemed more uncomfortable than others, but many just regarded him curiously, noting his white-mans clothes and taking him for a convert to some religion or another.<br/><br/>Dora leaned against the high back of the booth opposite him, taking the weight off one foot for a moment.  “Coffee, tea?  We got some funny water that them boys at the Collegium cooked up, but it makes folks all crazy.”  She wrinkled her nose.  “And it smells funny.”