The Pub of Nine Swords
The veiled figure would step within the building, not meandering near the door for very long as he would instantly turn towards a section of tables, as though he'd been here before, without hesitation. His attire was rather arcane, a soft blue cloak and hood covered most of his face and chest, the armor underneath was a blend of cloth and hardened leather. Though he kept his face down towards the floor of the pub, the soft blue glowing hues of his eyes would be just barely visible, since the light inside the pub was a little dim. The air about the man spoke little more then an obvious affinity towards magic, the runic inscriptions on the leather armor, the ornate markings of a mater magi on his cloak and gloves, though these markings would be commonly overlooked by those who were ignorant of the order, these days it was an ever increasing number. The Magi quickly seated himself near the rear of the building, solitude an obvious intention of his position relative to the others within the pub, it was late as it is, most were drunk already, and the others minded their own as they would drown the mortal desires and emotions that so rampantly drove their lives.