Perched on a chair, Nachtheim, looks around the inn, pulling on greasy strands of his hair. After a few moments, he rises for the countless time, his sweat and dirt stained robes touching the floor. The color of the robes faded long ago. He walks across the room towards the window, stepping between several groups of patrons without offering a word. He stares out the window, turns, surveys the room once again, and walks back with little regard for others in his path.
“How much more time will we waste before we leave?”