Thread Closed
Shamad opened the doors and walked tiredly into the Drowning Wench. As he walked to the bar, he noticed people wrinkling their noses. He knew he smelled like smoke and blood. "Fuck you" he thought at everyone. "What can I get you?" asked the barman. "A shot of your strongest stuff. This has to be one of the worst nights I've ever had!" The barman nodded and handed over the drink. Shamad paid and took a seat near the edge of the bar. He was pretty sure he would be able to get some information on the Crimson Blades here. The Bismark was a long shot anyway. A group of the Crimson Blades reputation wouldn't be seen in a upscale establishment like the Bismark. He readied himself for a long wait.