They signaled the barkeep and ordered two drinks. He handed one to her, "Is he not sacred, even to the gods, the wandering man who comes in weariness?" He whispered, handing one to her
The barkeep studies you for a moment too long, then pours a drink and hands it to you.
Some people seemed to eye you with hostile glances.
No answer, just the creak of the rotting wooden door.