Narrative: around you are six wooden tables, on each is a wax candle, below each are five wooden stools, one of them has a red buttoned cushion, likely for someone important. Before you is a counter, the bartender behind is quietly wiping down tin mugs, his face is wrinkled and old, a gruff man in a murky place. Wine, rum and Whisky are seen behind him on a thin shelf, a door leading into the kitchen is just beside the shelves.
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