"Aye, but yer not a bartender." A small smirk hinted on his lips, resting his arm on the counter. James had come to the tavern, seeking whispers about hidden maps and their locations, possibly a cadaver or two.
"Finally, someone with a pair of working eyes. Anyway, seeing as how you’ve figured that out, what do you want here?" The killer shifted his weight on his feet, crossing one leg over the other ankle before standing up. "Not much to be gained from a closed tavern."
“Ah could ask you th’ same thing meself. It is closed after all.” Folding his arms across his chest, eying him from the corner of his eye.