They Met in a Tavern

Professor Kal walked a bit further, the gory scene he left behind was already out of view, concealed by two-story houses and the darkness of night. He passed by a few more soldiers out on patrol, but had used a spell to mask himself, not wanting to waste any more time messing around. His steps stopped directly in front of a worn, oaken door, two oil lamps on either side of the door cast dim, yellow light futilely into the dark street.

A sign simply engraved with two mugs of ale hung above the door, swinging back and forth, squeaking. Professor Kal reached out and grasped the heavily worn knob, the highly polished brass contrasted sharply with the green patina of the finger plate. It didn't turn, even after coaxing it with a few sweet words, and a good amount of jiggling, it still refused to allow him entry.