The name Gorov was one of power and the evil it caused unchecked. Power is ultimately neutral, but left without a counter balance and the scales will tip. An untold number of hardened souls cried out from every creak in the woodwork, begging for the monstrous hands of that city to reach out and choke out the seed of corruption that now walked through the door of The Drunken Mule.
And yet, even though this ruin was the likely end product of the Gorov’s misdeeds, Dolphus would not have entered without the knowledge of four complete strangers in the same fix as him. He hadn’t really looked at them at all outside of generally observing them approaching the building from behind him. Power had to be maintained, and so Dolphus entered the building first.
The smell was almost overpowering. The air acted almost like a solid object, the very motion of Dolphus walking in kicking up a clout beneath his feet. He was forced to lock his jaw and clutch his cane - he was finding it more of a comfort to lean on in recent days - to prevent him from breaking into a coughing fit.
Dolphus waited until the party appeared to have all entered the building before leaning the cane on his hip and retrieving the letter.
As he reached across his body to obtain it, Dolphus got a very good look at one of the patrons. Some level of pity and disgust darted through his mind; it was like the poor man had died in his drink, and the shopkeep was too petty to have him removed, lest he lose a visible patron. The layer of dust was especially peculiar, practically confirming his thoughts were it not for the mild movement of the guest, but Dolphus knew he would be infinitely better off if he asked less questions and kept what he noticed to himself.
Dexterously, Dolphus unfolded the letter, holding it content-side-upwards towards the barkeep between his middle and forefinger. The wax seal recalled the pile of letters by the door to his mind, and Dolphus had to freeze the joints of his arm to prematurely stop a shiver working up his spine.
Eyes uncaring. Exude confidence. Keep your back tall. This is how a Gorov controls the room.
“I wish to speak to the mariner.”