The scent of the outside world. In the monastery everything was clean and fresh, even in the sweaty training sessions with the brothers there was nothing as rank as parts of this city. Never before had he spent more than a few hours outside the walls that protected his order. Now, three days into his journey, he has discovered that the world is indeed in need of the men of his order. This city was so clean and pure from a distance. But the further in a man went the worse it got. Such is life he thought to himself. The first thing seen is not always the truth. One of the patrolmen he had encountered had directed him down several alleys, with a warning to keep an eye out for pickpockets.
There it is. The Dancing Bird fit in well with its surroundings. Dark and rundown, not a place a man of good repute would usually be found. He pulled the cloak that covered his arms and armor closer to his body as he made his way through the crowds towards the doorway, conscious that the raucous singing inside was probably indicative of excessive drunkenness and everything that might come with it. His work was well cut out for him. A few meters from the door he notices a figure that seems out of place here. Sitting on the side of the street, but not begging like so many of the others. Not looking for a fight based on their position, but ready for one nonetheless. After a few more seconds consideration he continued walking past and towards the door of the inn.