I pushed open the tavern door and stepped inside. The warmth hit me first, followed by the familiar smell of roasted meat, cheap ale, and smoke drifting beneath the wooden beams. The crowd had thinned since earlier. A few patrons quietly nursed their mugs while others slumped over their tables after drinking far too much.
At the back of the room, the merchant was exactly where he'd promised he'd be. His head rested on the table beside an empty mug, his shoulders slumped, looking thoroughly drunk.
I walked over to him. "Hey."
No response.
I poked his shoulder. Nothing. I cleared my throat. Still nothing.
With a sigh, I kicked one leg of his chair.
He jerked upright with a startled grunt. "Ugh, what? Who...? Oh." He blinked a few times before focusing on me. "It's you, kid."
Without saying anything, I tossed the leather pouch onto the table. It landed with a heavy clink.
