> The smoke enters the establishment before you do; like some incorporal feeler, shooting ahead into the door and immediately parting both ways as if to explore the little store before promptly fading away as you stopped to take another suck of the cigar.
> As it happened, you’d spent much of the evening wandering around town - though, of course, doing it in such a way that you seemed like you knew where you were going - looking for this exact place.
> Not because it was particularly reputable - though you were sure it had a reputation to speak of (it would be a crime for a business owned by such a high bloodline to go without reputation [in fact you’re certain that would literally be a crime]).
> No, you’d gone to such lengths to find it specifically because of the noble blood in charge. Indeed, you’d turned down the prospect of visiting several other, closer establishments, looking for the place with the purplest troll in charge. Because if you were going to spend so much time outside of the comfort of your holy castle on the planet Gracilia... you’d do it with someone you could trust to be as cultured as you required your company to be.
> You ducked your head slightly so as to avoid clacking your horns against the frame as you entered to the chime that accompanied your arrival.
@blutrolls
