The inside of the old building was well maintained. The ground floor was a bar-cum-restaurant, though few people were there. A couple of people were playing board games at a side table. Their clothes told them they were not nobles, but still well off. As for customers, there were a few people, but none could be called one. One was sited before the keeper, enjoying his drink in the morning, while the keeper was cleaning the deck, whistling in no care.
"Yo, Balat," Ryat said to the keeper. "I brought a couple of kids."
The middle-aged keeper looked at them, and similarly, they looked at him. Balat was like Ryat, not good-looking enough, but stood out in the crowd. He was not bald like the shady merchant, had fine black hair mixed with a good number of whites.