Barrier Gate Station West Wing Pub, The Lone Drunkard

[Taragarth]

Through a hardly noticable backdoor a young Rheinish gentleman walks, no slithers, into the Pub. As he sits down, more perceptive figures around the bar notice this Rheinlander has seen much more than his years would suggest. He wears one of those ridiculously recognizable Rheinish gala uniforms, but it does not look like the outfit has been all that well maintained. Indeed, a specific little blotch of what looks like industrial-grade grease under the mock-golden broche on his chest betrays a certain junky feeling. The biggest surprise though is when he opens his mouth; it sounds like a Texan with a heavy german accent.

''Howdy partzners! Got zom Schnapps around here? Warte, scratzch that, I'll have a glass of that Gallic specialty zuerste."

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