Bab 750: Finding Max (2)

Alexander reached the notorious inn, a place that bore the stains of countless past encounters.

The inn was a hodgepodge of crooked beams and weathered wood, its facade scarred by time and neglect. Its dimly lit interior was filled with a motley crew of patrons that were there since the previous night, each one more rough looking than the last.

The air was thick with the scent of stale ale already this early, unwashed bodies, and a hint of danger.

Walking in, Alexander made his way to the counter. He slid onto a worn-out stool, its leather cover cracked and faded from years of use.

The bartender, a gruff man with a scar running down his face, grunted in acknowledgment of his order. A plate of greasy eggs and a mug of a cheap beverage were soon placed in front of him.