The aged dwarf lets the door clatter shut behind him, stopping just inside. His eyes squint, darting between the darker corners and edges of the room, causing the wrinkles on his temple to deepen. Satisfied no one was lying in wait, he marches straight forward to the bar, paying no mind to anyone he may bump into on his way.
Pointing a gloved finger at the man with the apron, he raises his voice. “Oy! You're the keeper of this inn, aye? I will need—”
The harried inn keeper has his hands full with a tray of dishes. “Half a minute, master dwarf! Half a—”
A soft thud accompanied by a tell-tale ka-CHINK marks the dwarf dropping a leather coin pouch onto the counter. Setting down the tray, the man loosens the strings on the pouch and peers inside, his expression indicating it's filled with no mere copper pennies.
Sparing only a disdainful glare for one of the patrons who clumsily bumped into him, the lavishly clad dwarf returns his gaze to the keeper and continues slowly, leaving no room for mistake in his words. “I will need a room, a table, and an ale. The money is yours, with more to come should I stay longer than the night.”
The balding man nods fervently, his jowls rippling. After carefully tucking away the payment, he quickly begins shouting orders at his staff to see to his new guest's needs. With a practiced smile, he inquires, “Might I ask your name, if you'll be staying here long?”
“You can call me Logi. Now I'll be at that table over there, awaiting my ale.”
