Fulgrim looked up at the suited gentleman. Was he a local noble? No, nobility wouldn't bother weary travelers. And that's what he was - a weary traveler, fresh off an atrocious ship voyage - a voyage that lasted many days, met two storms and, every other night the deck got so cold that there were literal ice spikes in his beard.
However there were men whose business thrived on the weary - the Innkeepers, Barkeeps, humble Merchants, last of which the man was most likely an reprezentant.
He looked upon the "Lovely City", the man mentioned. However, "Lovely" wasn't exactly the word Fulgrim would use. Dreadful, Awful, or even Disgraceful was more descriptive of what any veteran dwarf thought of human architecture. But the relevance of this city wasn't in the slightest connected to it's architecture, and the future of it might just be great - if he finds what he is looking for.
But now, none of that matters - what he needed at this hour was a bed in a room that didn't sway, a pint, or preferably a barrel worth of a Dwarven Ale and a Roof that didn't Creek. He looked up at the man.
"What brings me here is business, not some grand ideal you were hoping for. And unless you are in the trade of quality accommodation, it's not you I wish to conduct business with today, Dear sir!" - He answered, taking a side step to walk by the Man.
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