Galarial chewed in silence, watching the man and the bartender exchange words. His eyes slid across the room, catching the various patrons in differing stages of release and relaxation.

When the door burst open to three loud men, his eyes were naturally drawn to the ruckus. He took a sip of his wine as the three moved into the room, his eyes widening in anticipation of trouble when the hooded man bumped into one of them ... but nothing.

Wait, there it was ... an almost imperceptible hand movement, giving a small square of paper to one of the toughs, before the hooded man continued on into the night.

Strange, thought Galarial. I wonder what secrets those two are exchanging, during such times as these?

He could think of no reason to follow the hooded man right now, so he kept his eyes on the three new arrivals, wondering what would happen now.