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- have to weave some tall-tale, just like you did with the Cobbler. If it worked for you with him, then you have to believe that you can make it work for you here too. Of course, you were able to speak to the old man alone - which you cannot count on here. Would the Cobbler have still sold you those men's boots and stockings if there had been witnesses? Probably not ... but all you are doing here is just renting a room for the night - nothing scandalous or untoward. You take a series of deep breaths in an attempt to steady yourself, but to be quite honest, you don't find them particularly fortifying. The prospect of walking through the common room, potentially revealing yourself to the men who made those prints is too harrowing.
You take one last, longing look at the bundle on your hand cart, right where you figure your knives are stowed, wishing that you were able to at least have something at the ready. For a second, you start to reconsider the whole thing, but you shake yourself out of it, and before you waste any more time with second thoughts, you straighten your back and head out of the vestibule and into the common dining room. As you had feared, your boots and your cart are raising quite the ruckus - squeaking and creaking, respectively - and while your first impression of the room, that it was mostly empty was right, unfortunately everyone in here is now staring at you. As much as you want to, you cannot allow yourself to advert your eyes and look at the floor - for fear that someone might think you were looking at the prints. So, trying your best to keep yourself from shivering, you force yourself to stare back. The first thing you notice is that the custom here looks notably rougher than it did at the Blue Boy. There does not seem to be a bard, or any sort of entertainment playing here, and there certainly isn't anyone that you would stake as a merchant, foreign or otherwise. If you had to guess, you would say that these men are all sailors of some stripe or another. None of them stand out in any particular way - though of the seven men you can see from here, four of them are sitting together. Two pairs.
One by one, the men start to look away, until everyone but one of the pair in the back have returned to their meals. Pattern's Perdition, are those the men? You cannot see any footprints with Strange-Staining at the moment, but they are sitting well outside of the Scarification Glyph's range. If they had just walked to their seats along the back wall, then ... it is possible. Neither of them has taken their eyes off of you, either. Fray it all, is that because you are staring at them like a struck veal-calf, or is it because they -
With a hearty thud, you smash your cart into an exceptionally inconsiderately placed table, and once again, everyone in the room is looking at you. Your cheeks blazing red, and feeling as if you are on the verge of tears, half out of fear and half out of embarrassment, you force yourself to look away.
