[Jeramiahh]<br/><br/>There are a great number of individuals that go inside of the Foghorn, ranging from vagabonds to soldiers of Osirion going in to drink.  None of them in particular catch his eye.  When he enters at last, though, the room is loud and stinks with the smell of too much alcohol and too little to do.  Even some sailors have spilled over to this tavern, lamenting the problems that the war has caused.  Along the way to the bar Charles is able to lift a half-dozen copper off of a drunk stumbling toward the door.  It is only moments after his order that a mug of ale is plunked down in front of him.  On one side is a burly half-orc mercenary staring glumly at his mug, and on the other is a human sailor who seems to be intently trying to drown himself.