The Boars Head Inn |
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| The Boars Head Inn
You duck in to a dim tavern that you know well. The pungent aroma of pipe tobacco fills
the air. There are always those shady Rangers, sitting at a back table smoking their pipe.
You wave to several patrons that you know, and wink at Violet who is serving ale to some locals. Cedrik the innkeep stands behind his counter, chatting with someone. You can't quite make out what he is saying, but it's something about
Thieving LoneStrider.
Dag Durnick sits, sulking in the corner with a pipe clamped firmly in his mouth.
The clock on the mantle reads 4:55 pm. |
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