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The noise of the barrrom didn't keep Thallius from resting from the day's hard labor.
Devlin kept aware of the surrounding din, trying to pick up small bits of information being whispered or argued at various tables. Devlin's hearing was good. Distinct senses filtered the unimportant from the important. A hushed phrase from the table directly behind the halfling mentioned a hidden moor. There was more to the sentence, but a fight had started at the table to Devlin's left. He could hear no more.
ooc: It was twenty-five crowns for each. CW.
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