A dark form stares through the broken window of The Bawdy Bugbear. Safetly in the shadows of the forest, he takes note of what is going on in the crowded bar. Shifting left and right, the dark form appears to be arguing with himself. Seeming to come to a conclusion, the figure takes makes a move toward the Bugbear. Stepping out of the forest, the moonlight briefly reveals his dark heritage. “We musn't reveal ourself...yet.” the dark elf whispered to himself as he lowered his hood. Each step he took was followed by barely audible sound...not unlike the sound of burning damp wood. Only the overly observant would notice his footsteps were slightly browning the ground. Reaching the tavern, Rymbus push in on the makeshift door. A loud crack followed by the door tubbling to the ground in a loud crash. Rymbus gritted his teeth, silently cursing for the attention the noise would certainly bring toward his arrival. Sweeping his hands, he hide the dark skin underneath the lavish red robes he wore. Waiting a few moments, the dark elf took a step inside. A feeling of nausea immediatly overtook him. Attempting to prevent being sick on the floor, he threw his hand on the edge of the bar to steady himself. In a matter of seconds the feeling passed and Rymbus looked up to find the bartender staring at his hand...and the scorch mark it left on the bar. Whisking the hand back into the robes, a cold stare snapped the bartender's head forward, pretending to miss everthing that just transpired. Confirming that no one else had apparently seen the incident, Rymbus' eyes began sweeping the room. It was clear he was looking for someone.