Awrygan was awakened from unpleasent dreams by an arm lightly shaking his. He sat up with a start, and through a blurry haze managed to catch the somewhat jumbled phrases "...past closing time....room...stable...horse?"
He straightened up in his chair, pausing briefly before he spoke in a slow fashion. "I have no horse, however I would gladly take a room." He laughed softly, almost a cough. "You should be forwarned I am as poor as I look." It had been quite some time since he had shaved and his overall appearence was rather dishevelled apart from his piercing gaze.
He blinked, and rubbed a few pieces of sand out of his green eyes. Placing his pipe back inside its pouch he stood up stiffly. "You would be the new Innkeeper?" he enquired.
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"Dic, hospes, Spartae, nos te hic vidisse iacentes dum sanctis patriae legibus obsequimur."
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