Chilchuck glances from face to face as he enters the bustling tavern.

He pushes through gatherings of adventurers in the waxy warm lantern lights, finding an empty barstool at the counter. The room buzzes with chatter as the sun dips low on the horizon through the wood-framed windows.

Chilchuck's calloused thumb traces against weathered mahogany idly while he raises one hand to call the attention of a bartender.

"Just a pale ale, please," He requests coolly over the lively hum of the night.