The bar here was aptly named The South Bar with a squeaking, hung sign with fading paint. Though it was in the south side of the town, it faced north, and had low, dingy windows that looked like they needed a good cleaning. Inside was just as dingy, the place well worn with age.
The south bar wasn't really one of his staple places to stop, but Cullen was busy and had a lot of trails to hide. It was one way he kept alive, and kept what he did a secret. It was difficult even for him to keep track of one place to meet over another and times. But secrecy was crucial and he couldn't afford to be lazy.
He gave a tap against the bar.
"Another drink, Myrtle." And the bar wench filled his cup. The man sat with a heavy, tricorn hat that cast his face in shadows and hide the length of his hair. HIs face held a layer of gristling stubble that threatened into a beard and his eye color was indistinguishable in the lighting. In fact, most of his features were hard to discern in the poor light.
It was only then the man noticed another come in and peered over at him discretely from beneath his hat.
"And how about one for the weary traveler?"
"Aye," she nodded and Myrtle moved away from the other man towards Gabe and gave the young man a smirk.
"What's your poison, lad? We got Choicer's mead, Winapple beer and a few other choices." She spat aside into a spitoon behind the bar. "We also got watered whisky if ya lookin' for somethin' cheap."