<strong>"Ah, of course, my dear. Take a seat. I daresay this may require more adventurers for my employ than the two of you alone. Do you have much experience in combat, Susan, Sara? I am afraid that my...pests...may take more effort to exterminate than rats or bugs or the like."</strong>Turnstone occasionally scans the tavern patrons in order to gauge any interest in his sign and to wave over any who may be seeking the gold he promised.<br/><br/>The bartender minds his own business, not prying on the guildmaster's conversation with his potential employees. Another man, completely bedraggled and soaked through with rain enters the tavern. He appears to be wearing quality clothing, but practical rather than extravagant. He removes his dripping coat and after spotting that all of the coat hooks are currently occupied, doesn't hesitate to drop the coat on the floor under them. He seems to be in his mid-forties and from his expression, he is having easily the worst day of his life. His matted, soaked hair is short and brown and he wears a mustache and goatee along with several days' growth on the rest of his face.<br/><br/><strong>"A pint of your strongest ale, my good man,"</strong>he mutters, taking a seat at the bar, folding his arms across it and laying his head on his arms.<br/><br/>With Laewynn's breasts revealed, the City Watchmen and many adventurers let out a few cheers, but one of the older watchmen approaches her briefly and in hushed tones tells her to be sure to keep the rest of her clothes on while she's in the public room of this tavern. The watchman is quite friendly about it, and as he's off-duty he apparently has no problem taking the opportunity to get a better view of her breasts, but there's no mistaking the confidence and tone of his voice for anything other than a friendly warning.