After Elijah spent some time the market, eating on a loaf of fresh bread. He browsed the vendor's inventories for some time, not with any real intent on spending his hard earned coin on such pointless treasures. Food, water, and lodging were his only concern, and of course the occasional new set of clothes and cloaks. One man near by was speaking quite loudly, excitedly spouting words about falling stars. Eli had no interest of a falling star, probably just a drunk who witnessed a shooting star, he was about to move on but the man grasped his arm. "They fell from the sky, the heavens even! This I swear." he yelled, now moving on to another poor bastard who had to smell his foul breath upon their face. 

Now Elijah wasn't one to take the town crazy serious, nor did he care what may or may not have fallen from the sky, so he did the smart thing and headed to the nearest tavern. The Shady Bucket. A pub where the foulest of men go to prove they're among the ranks of big and bad. Coincidentally, they also sold the best ale around for half the price. It was a short walk away, now escaping the roar of the market, the streets grew dark and quite. The Shady Bucket was located in the middle of an alley, it's walkway lined with spilled brew, blood and vomit. It really was the lowest of the low but it offered freedom from the authorities, not even they dared come here. "I'll have the usual." said Elijah as he walked in and stood by the bar. 

"Ah, Eli, my friend. How did the tournament go?" said a portly man with a heavily stained bar apron and a balding head. "It went alright, third round was fun though." he finished with a smirk before grabbing the freshly poured pint from Davlomin and headed towards his favorite table.